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softguarnere · 10 months

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Hi! Do you have any headcannons of the boys taking care of you when you’re sick?

Hello there Anon! Thanks for your patience as I catch up on requests. I hope you like these 💕🕊️

Dick Winters: When he's sick, he fully expects himself to just push through like he normally would. Whoever notices that he's not feeling well practically has to force him to sit down and rest. But if you're sick? Completely different story - he's immediately asking questions, trying to figure out what's wrong; making you tea; taking your temperature; looking for a medic, if he thinks you need one. Would put his whole day on hold just to help you.

Ron Speirs: Second verse, same as the first. He would feel so helpless if there wasn't much that he could do. Unsure of how to express that, he would do whatever you asked: making you tea, reading to you, and his favorite, just holding you while you rest.

Lewis Nixon: He's powered through plenty of hangovers, but he can tell that whatever you're experiencing is worse - and that scares him. He probably calls Dick for help, because let's face it, his upbringing did not prepare him for this, and he feels out of his depth. Just know that his heart is in the right place and that he plans on being there for you every second until you feel better. He'll talk you through it all, which helps distract himself from the fear he feels. God forbid anything should happen to you on his watch.

Carwood Lipton: Like Winters and Speirs, he expects himself to push through his own sickness, but would bend over backwards to help you if you're unwell. As an "Acts of Service" type of man, this is truly his time to shine. Don't expect to do anything but rest up all day, because Lip has got everything under control.

Babe Heffron: His first instinct would be to ask Roe for help. Once he gets a few pointers, he's well on his way. He would be so sweet the whole time, giving you plenty of cuddles or plenty of space - whichever you prefer in the moment. Doesn't care about you getting him sick at all. He knows that he can make it through just fine, but he's going to make sure that you feel better before he even considers worrying about himself.

Eugene Roe: So efficient! (But, if he's being honest with himself, also a little scared, because he hates to see someone that he loves so much feeling so poorly.) Lucky for you, he knows all the remedies to get you feeling better in no time - and he's humble about how quickly he has you feeling better again.

Bill Guarnere: He would both try and do anything to make you feel better. You want one of his ma's home remedies? He's calling her right now for the recipe. You just want to be held and take a nap? He's your guy. It's honestly kind of startling to see how differently he can act, because he's so gentle and encouraging throughout the whole thing. Because in his mind, that's just what a good boyfriend does.

Joe Toye: Definitely the guy who drives you to the doctor the second you develop a temperature. There's no way that he's taking a chance with your health, because you never know when things might be very serious. Don't worry, he'll drive carefully - but still in the fast lane, really pressing the speed limit.

George Luz: George may have missed his calling to be a nurse, because his bedside manner is just so good. He knows exactly when to put the joking on pause and when you could use a little laugh to lighten your mood. Also he makes The Best™️ tomato soup and grilled cheese combo you could possibly imagine. That stuff could cure anything.

Don Malarkey: Okay listen, this man is insanely good at cuddling. You could spend all day pressed up against him and he wouldn't mind. He'd put on whatever show you currently like and would hold you through the whole thing, while also taking breaks between episodes to make sure that you're staying hydrated and taking your medicine.

Shifty Powers: He lives by the belief that fresh air, sunshine, and a good attitude can cure just about anything. He would definitely sit on the porch swing with you, gently rocking you back and forth in the late afternoon sunshine and talking to you about anything and everything to raise your spirits. Also a huge fan of giving out forehead kisses when you rest your head on his shoulder. Not to sound overdramatic, but those things might just have some sort of magic healing quality in them.

Joe Liebgott: This man hardly ever takes a day for himself. He's up early and working late, just because every hour feels like it needs to be filled with productivity. But the second you get sick? Everything is put on hold. Good thing he has so many sick-days saved up, because he'll use them all if he has to, just to stay by your side and take care of you. Don't even think about telling him that you're fine, because he's going to be right there, making sure you're okay.

David Webster: Similar to Nixon, he does not come from a background that equipped him for any of this. But he's trying his best! He'll whip up some of the most horrendous soup in history before he gives in and orders it for you - after all, he's trying to help you get better, not make you worse. His favorite way to comfort you would be reading to you, no doubt about it.

Skinny Sisk: He's a little bad at hiding his concern for you. Literal embodiment of the "🥺" emoji every time that he takes your temperature and sees that it hasn't lowered yet. He holds your hand a lot, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, which is so soothing. Turns out that he's really good at making the perfect tea, so prepare to drink the best peppermint tea of your life.

Skip Muck: Such a sweetheart, are you kidding me? Like Luz, he knows when to shelve the jokes and when you could use a good laugh. He would be so attentive, and calls his mom and sister for advice, just to make sure that he's doing everything right. The reassuring smiles he gives you every time that he comes into the room work better than any medicine ever could.

Bull Randleman: Basically becomes a doctor the second that he realizes that you don't feel well. I mean, this man just jumps into action and seems to know exactly what to do, it's amazing. With everything that he's doing to help you, he still finds time to be right by your side whenever you wake up from naps. Prepare to wake up to a smile that feels like the morning sun greeting you.

Floyd Talbert: It's . . . a little chaotic at first, but he's got the spirit. It's sweet, though, how hard he's trying, because it shows you that he cares. He's definitely having a bit of an internal panic since he's never done this before, but once he calms down, he'll take good care of you. Might go a little heavy on the seasoning in the chicken noodle soup, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

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brassknucklespeirs · 7 months

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Band of Brothers x soulmate au

screw it, i'm doing a soulmate au x band of brothers series. if there is anything specific y'all want...let me know but already have the metaphorical lightbulb flashing above my head (thank you @softguarnere for my swimming thoughts, everyone go read her Webster soulmate au it's *chefs kiss*)

#i'm maniacally cackling #be prepared #these won't all be fluff but most will #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #joe toye x reader #ronald speirs #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fluff #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs x reader #carwood lipton x reader #george luz x reader #dick winters x reader #lewis nixon x reader #shifty powers x reader #joe liebgott x reader #so on and so forth

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malarkgirlypop · 7 months

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Hello!

I am new to BoB, but boy do I love them. Just shit posting and fan-fiction... hehe. Kate, she/her, 23. Could do requests if wanted!

#band of brothers #authors #fanfic #reading #tropes #x reader #long reads #donald malarkey #nixon #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #george luz #carwood lipton #joe toye #bill guarnere #ron speirs

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chasingstardustandmoonbeams · 2 years

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Band of Brothers Masterlist

*note: based only on the show interpretations/actors not the real individuals*

Key: 🥰 = fluff

😢 = angst

Joe Liebgott x Reader

Chocolate Kisses 🥰

Cold As Ice 🥰

Time Enough 😢🥰

George Luz x Reader

A Quiet Life 🥰

Joe Toye x Reader

Diner Date 🥰

Patience 🥰

Ron Speirs x Reader

Maybe not so one-sided 😢🥰

And Just Like That 😢🥰

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Not About Deserve 😢🥰

No one I’d rather be with 🥰

Carwood Lipton x Reader

Early Mornings 🥰

The Long Road to You (George Luz x OC and Joe Toye x OC)

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #joe toye imagines #joe toye x reader #joe liebgott imagines #joe liebgott imagine #joe liebgott x reader #george luz imagines #george luz imagine #george luz x reader #bill guarnere imagines #bill guarnere imagine #bill guarnere x reader #ron speirs imagines #ron speirs imagine #ron speirs x reader #carwood lipton imagine #Carwood Lipton x reader

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 1 year

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Just Come Home - Ronald Speirs x OFC

When Valerie Harmon finds herself alone and stranded in France following the Nazi invasion, she is sure her future is lost. But when a chance encounter brings her closer to Easy Company and a certain Captain, her life begins to rebuild itself anew.

Just Come Home is now on AO3!

#just come home #band of brothers #band of brothers fic #band of brothers oc #ronald speirs x oc #ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs x ofc #ronald speira #carwood lipton #chuck grant #dick winters #lewis nixon #floyd talbert #george luz #hbo war #hbo war fic

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wexhappyxfew · 1 year

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Landslide | Chapter 92 | Where The Enemy Once Stood

"There is no teacher but the enemy. No one but the enemy will tell you what the enemy is going to do. No one but the enemy will ever teach you how to destroy and conquer. Only the enemy shows you where you are weak."

- Orson Scott Card, Ender's Game

Natia spent more time than she wanted in the Eagles' Nest.

Sometimes, she just wanted to climb up to the top of the mountain and inhale some of the fresh mountain air and feel her muscles burn from the work it took to get up the mountain. Sometimes, it was because it was far quieter than down the mountain in the main area of Berchtesgaden and more often these days, she longed for some quietness. Sometimes, it was just because she wanted to stare at the mountains. Just sit and stare and listen to the wind blow overtop the mountains and down into the valley, hitting the trees and rustling their fresh summer leaves.

Today was because she was bored. Not that there wasn't plenty to do, but today, she had finished all the assignments Captain Speirs needed to have written up, some of the enlisted were already downing some bottles of wine and champagne they'd scrounged, and things for the most part were settled in.

Years ago, this would have bothered her. Being in a place such as this where the enemy once stood all alone with herself - of course, some of the officers were here and there were people in other rooms, but the great large room that served as the residential sitting room it seemed, remained in her occupancy. And she was all alone. She didn't mind being alone as much anymore.

[read the rest on AO3 + Wattpad]

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ

hellloooo!!! long time no see! and i’m updating a consistent week later woooo!!! vv excited personally bc it’s been a bit since that’s happened lol! :) natia’s story continues to toss and term and trickle its way to its ending and this last big chunk of chapters are all just very satisfying to see posted bc it’s an ending idea i’ve had in my for at least a year now so, it’s very rewarding to see these get published! if you ever have any questions about the fic or natia, im always open, but in any case, thank you to everyone that reads, i really do appreciate it so much! and once again, happy reading! :)

taglist: @chaosklutz @juliannetoinette @huenoclue @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @tvserie-s-world @liebegott @wecomrades @thoughpoppiesblow @cetaitlaverite @rogue-sunday @legally-devorak @alejodi0nysus @mrsalwayswrite @supervalcsi @heffrcns @xthefourthx @whoahersheybars @kryzes @papersergeant-pencilsoldier @whovian45810 @sergeant-spoons @geniedocroe @holdingforgeneralhugs @martinsrestingbitchface @pipster4107 @mads-weasley @hinkel-im-home @heirsoflilith @icantdecideofthename

-> as always, let me know if would like to be added/removed from the taglist! :D

#band of brothers #bob fic #bob oc #band of brothers fic #band of brothers x oc #landslide #natia filipska #richard winters #lewis nixon #harry welsh #ronald speirs #carwood lipton #joe liebgott #george luz #natia is actually vv funny once u give her a bottle of champagne #chatty - and i quote from harry welsh himself

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rogue-durin-16 · 2 years

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ROGUE-DURIN-16 PROMPT LIST FOR REQUESTS

Disclaimer: you don't have to use these ones specifically, you can send your own prompts and scenarios too. Also, feel free to reblog if you're a writer.

GUIDELINES:

Write down the prompt numbers and/or letters (up to 3)

Write down the character(s) you want in the fic

Choose the fic genre

Specify the reader's pronouns

Optional:

Add a more information on the plot if you want

Specify who's saying which quote

DIALOGUE PROMPTS:

"Hey, you're bleeding!" "Oh my god— really? I didn't fucking notice!"

"Please get up."

"I like you." "Don't do that to yourself."

"Quick— kiss me!"

"Your lips are getting really close to mine."

"My family thinks we're dating."

"We have a problem." "No— you have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps getting in trouble."

"Please, don't let go of my hand. I'm scared."

"Dance with me?" "There's no music." "We'll hum."

"You look like you could use a hug." "Now, that's embarrassing."

"If I don't get coffee soon, someone's gonna die." "I'm 'someone', am I not?"

"How's the day going?" "Well, no one died." "Those are your standards?"

"Don't you dare walk away."

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation!" "And I'm trying to avoid it!"

"Now that I made it weird, I'm gonna leave."

"I don't like saying 'I told you so' but—" "the hell you don't, it's your favorite phrase."

"Are you sure I can't break his nose?" "Depends. Do you wanna get court-martialed?"

"Ten bucks says you don't make it to the door before passing out."

"I've lost the will to fight."

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything that night."

"Come here." "Why?" "Just come here." "No, you're gonna hit me."

"Shut up." "Make me."

"You know we're meant to be." "Yeah, six feet apart at all times."

"I'm gonna marry you someday."

Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?"

"It was just a joke." "It wasn't funny!"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Yes, I have feelings for you. Moving on..."

"Were you dropped on your head as a kid?" "As a matter of fact, yes."

"Rumor has it, I make you nervous."

"I can't get up." "I'll carry you."

"we should cuddle— platonically, of course."

"are you crying?" "... No." "Wow, that sounded so convincing."

"Look at me— you're gonna be okay."

"You have a heart of gold." "But that's not enough for you, is it?"

"Are you asleep yet?" "..." "I love you."

"I've actually practiced this." "Asking me out?" "Yes."

"I'm not easy to love." "Who told you that?"

"You're so adorable." "And you're ruining my reputation. Stop."

"We're just friends." "Oh, c'mon! the only ones who buy that are you, Y/n, and that poor idiot they're dating."

"I have a solution." "Thank goodness." "It involves fire." "Absolutely not."

"Don't you trust me?" "Uh, yeah, with my life, not with my hair!"

"If you ask me, I'd say we deserve a happy ending."

"Can you please keep stroking my hair?"

"We'll get through this. Together."

"You're like a sister/brother to me." "What a sweet way of breaking my heart."

"We could've died!" "Yeah but we didn't." "No thanks to you."

"I don't think I'll ever be ready to lose you."

"What if we kissed?"

"Maybe making out for a few minutes would help us figure things up."

"Oh, you're still alive." "Don't sound so disappointed, I might think you don't like me."

"How long have you been standing there?" "Longer than you'd like."

"I remember kissing you. Why do I remember kissing you?"

"Go to hell." "And leave you here all alone?"

"You feelin' alright?" "Peachy!" *passes out*

"I'm happy with them." "That's not fair!" "Why?" "'Cause I loved you first!"

"You're very pretty." "And you're very drunk."

SITUATION PROMPTS:

A. One falls asleep on the other's shoulder.

B. First kiss.

C. Last kiss.

D. Cooking together.

E. The reader gets hurt.

F. The character gets hurt.

G. They're stranded (alone or with more people).

H. A breaks down, B comforts them.

I. A fixes up B after B gets into a fight.

J. Drunkenly confessing their feelings.

K. Heated argument leads to a kiss/confession.

L. First date.

M. Fake date.

N. Trying to keep each other warm.

O. A is drunk and B takes care of them.

P. Dealing with a friend's death.

Q. A asks B for a dance.

R. Bumping into each other after a long time.

S. The character realizes they're falling in love with the reader (or viceversa)

T. Starcrossed lovers.

FIC GENRES:

Fluff

Angst

Angst-fluff

Hurt/comfort

Friends to lovers

Rivals to lovers

Lovers to friends

Unrequited love

Mutual pinning

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

Band Of Brothers: @sparkycorleone @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

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bobparkhurst · 1 year

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festive ficlets: dec 19

Prompts from @almost-a-class-act

Pairing: George Luz x Carwood Lipton (bonus appearance by Ron Speirs)

Prompt: Skating accident!

“I am not unalike a gazelle,” George calls out, approximately half a second before his skate cracks on a stone half-hidden in the frost and he’s going ass over tit across the frozen lake, careening ever closer to the bank. His fingers scrabble against the ice, but make no purchase in the slick, and so instead he closes his eyes, throws his arms over his face and neck and braces for the inevitable.

The last thing he hears before impact is Lip shouting his name.

“That man is going to give me a heart attack sooner or later,” Lip says the next day over breakfast. Ron, across the table, replies nothing, but spears his fork through a piece of bacon and pops it into his mouth, waiting for Lip to continue. “Do you know what he said when I got to him?”

Ron’s eyebrow raises, almost imperceptibly.

“He asked me if I thought he could give Ginger Rogers a run for her money.”

“I liked Shall We Dance,” Ron says mildly, and reaches for his coffee. He makes a face as he sips it and the cup is pushed away from him when he sets it back on the table. He signals for another to be brought over. “I assume he’s fine?”

“Not a scratch on him.” Lip places his elbows on the table, holding his own coffee in both hands. He smiles at the waitress who comes over with the refill and has to bite his cheek when he notices the blush that rises on her face when Ron does the same. As soon as she has turned around, Ron rolls his eyes at his expression and very pointedly begins eating a pancake.

When it comes time to pay, there’s a brief tussle, which Ron wins chiefly by pointing out that it’s his turn and besides, he’d done it already when Lip hadn’t been looking. The winter sun is bright when they emerge, and Lip finds himself blinking, suddenly watery-eyed. Ron’s shades glitter in the light and though he can’t see his eyes, he can read the concern in the tilt of his head and he waves it away.

George meets them on the corner, tips half a salute in greeting to Ron, who bids them both goodbye and makes his way to his car. His cigarette dangles from his lips as he leans against the wall, book tucked under his arm. It looks like he has been waiting for a while, which Lip full knows he hasn’t, that he’s only just finished an early morning meeting about some dance or event or something else that he’s been asked to be on the committee for. For all his best efforts, it’s not easy even for him to keep up with all the ways George keeps himself busy.

They have some time yet before Lip is due at the college, and so he allows himself to be led back down to the lake where George had fallen the day before. They make a slow circuit; there are few enough people out that it almost feels like they’ve got the whole space to themselves, and if he makes only the slightest effort to do so, it’s easy to believe that they two are the only people in the world, that there’s nothing left out there that can come for them now. It’s a beautiful, heady feeling, and one that Lip has yet to grow accustomed to. He rather hopes that he never does.

The impact point is still visible, plants ripped from their roots scattered over the ice. Not so very far away, a jagged crack sends a spike of anxiety running through his peace; he bumps George’s shoulder with his own, just to check that he’s still there. Though George doesn’t look at him, his head nods, acknowledging the gesture. He tracks a couple of figures moving on the other side of the frozen water, until they disappear, and finally he moves to look at Lip.

“I’ve kinda gone off skating,” he says. His fingers are jammed in his pockets and his arm almost brushes against Lip’s as they walk. “I just kept showing up all the kids, it was getting embarrassing.”

“I guess it’s a hard to be master of all things,” Lip says. George laughs.

“You’ve always understood me,” he says, and winks.

#band of brothers #aiming to finish these by new year #we'll see #lipton x luz #bob: festive ficlets #ron speirs loves musical comedies pass it on #just realised this is lip's first appearance in the collection #still got five to go #it's not his last

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softly-writes · 1 year

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AO3 Wrapped Party!

Stolen from @lingua-mortua, I did my AO3 Wrapped Considering I'm never logged in to AO3, I am not at all surprised by my results XD Please don't judge me

#called it #Generation Kill #Band of Brothers #Generation Kill fanfiction #Band of Brothers Fanfiction #Nate x Brad #Brad/Nate #Gunny Mike Wynn x Nate Fick #Doc Bryan x Nate Fick #Doc Bryan x Ray Person #Doc Bryan x Nate Fick x Ray Person #Lipton x Speirs #Lipton x Luz #Lipton x Speirs x Luz

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blurredcolour · 4 months

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It's Better This Way | Part Two

It's Better This Way Masterlist

Carwood Lipton x Enlisted!Female Reader

They say time heals all wounds, but your love for Carwood Lipton simply lies dormant until fate brings you together again under very different circumstances.

Warnings: MAJOR Canon Divergence, Angst, Pining For A Married Man, Alcohol Consumption, Language, Discussion of Divorce, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [fingering, hand job, unprotected vaginal sex, pull out method] - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Self-indulgent canon divergence with little explanation ahead, read at your own risk. This applies not only to the existence of female paratroopers but Carwood Lipton's personal life. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 5242

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‘Go home to your wife, sir, it’s better this way.’ Your harsh words echoed through your mind as you blindly navigated your way through the dark streets of Buchloe, unshed tears obscuring your vision.

Thankfully, you knew the way back to your platoon’s billet, managing to make it inside and hand off tomorrow’s orders to Sergeant Martin before retreating to the room you shared with another female paratrooper, Norma, and having a good cry on her shoulder. She easily believed it was related to what the Battalion had witnessed that day and you submitted yourself to her mothering, too emotionally spent to protest as she found you some tea and tucked you into bed.

That day marked the last time Lipton tried to break through your defences, giving you a wide berth for the rest of the war. That is not to say you did not catch his gaze from time to time nor feel his eyes lingering on you when he thought you unaware. For your part, you put in a more concerted effort to behave as people expected, hoping to quash any concerns about your wellbeing. To keep the attention of the likes of Winters and Speirs on more important things like the occupation, the Japanese surrender, everyone’s return to the States.

The gaping wound in your chest faded to a dull ache, your friendship with Norma blossomed, and the pair of you ultimately decided to make a go of it in New York City after the war. The likelihood of two ex-service women, one with a facial scar, getting jobs in your respective hometowns was slim to none, and so you had found an affordable apartment to share in the big city before going on the hunt for work. Norma had found employment immediately at a department store while it had taken you quite some time to secure a position at a bank across from the docks, run by a man who seemed unfazed by both your gender and the mark on your face.

It was not long before Norma had found herself a beau, who quickly became her fiancé, and then her husband. Every man that you met had the misfortune of being compared to the spectre of Carwood Lipton and never had a chance of fully measuring up. You chose instead to focus your efforts on your career, securing several promotions and a nicer apartment of your own, leaving Norma and her husband to their newly wedded bliss. You stayed in touch with a lot of the guys from Easy, of course, exchanging letters with Luz and Randleman frequently. By the time 1947 rolled around, the location of the second reunion of the 101st Airborne was chosen as the very city in which you lived and so began Luz’s campaign to convince you to attend.

You finally relented in June, if only to stop the overwhelming volume of postcards he was sending your way, but as you stood outside the New Yorker Hotel that Friday in August, you still found yourself utterly unsure. Though you’d been back in the country for less than two years, Europe felt like another lifetime. You’d forced yourself to move on, to become another person, if only for the sake of surviving the rest of your days without Lipton. Shaking your head with a sigh, you turned to go, running smack into the chest of some innocent bystander on the sidewalk.

“I’m so sorry!” You gasped out at the same time as his hands gripped your elbows to steady you.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Lipton apologized and your eyes shot to his face to see him swallow in surprise.

In his defence he’d probably never once seen you wearing a dress as you were now, your hair styled, a touch of makeup on. An entirely different person to the one he would have recognized from the Airborne, while he stood there in his civilian suit looking every bit as handsome as he had in his Class A uniform.

“Liu–Lipton.” You corrected yourself quickly, watching a small smile pull at his mouth as he politely released your arms.

“It’s good to see you.” He glanced between you and the hotel before inclining his head curiously. “Not going in?”

“I, uh,” You looked over your shoulder before shaking your head as you turned back to him. “I don’t think so, no.”

His mouth pulled into a straight line, signalling his disappointment, but he made no verbal comment on it. “Need a cab?” He moved toward the curb, and you stepped forward quickly to stop him, shaking your head again.

“I live just a few blocks from here, I could use the walk. Thank you though.” You pressed your lips together as your fondness for him swelled to life beneath your sternum, reawakened by his presence.

“I’ll escort you then.” He insisted stubbornly and stood expectantly, waiting for your direction.

“You don’t have to, I’m sure you want to get inside…” You protested meekly, utterly out of character.

He raised an eyebrow. “I insist. Are we going left, or right?”

You pointed to your left and he nodded, turning to walk that way with you. You made your way together in silence for nearly a block, neither of your seeming to have any idea what to say after all this time. After the last time you had truly spoken to one another in Buchloe. Unable to stand the oppressive weight of the awkward silence between you a moment longer, you took a breath and turned to him as you waited for the walk light at the next corner.

“What’ve you been up to since you got back?”

“I’m working on that degree I put on hold.” He answered easily, arm hovering above your back protectively as a man darted behind you before dashing out across traffic, clearly in a hurry somewhere. “You?” He asked once you started walking again.

“Got a job, an apartment. The whole civilian life business.” You shrugged.

“All in New York City, very impressive.” He smiled softly and you looked to your feet quickly lest your eyes betray the way that melted your heart.

“Norma’s here too, working at Macy’s, got herself a husband.” You came to a stop after several blocks, standing in front of your building. “This is me.”

He looked up, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “You weren’t kidding when you said you live close by.”

“Yeah. Thanks again for walking me over, you ok to find your way back?”

The sound of a rowdy group of men spilling out from the bar across the street pulled his attention before looked back to you. “Could you bear to have one drink with me?”

“Bear it…” You repeated in disbelief, the gaping hole he’d left in your chest raw and aching once more. “Of course I can.” You swallowed roughly, willfully ignoring that pain beneath your ribs.

His smile grew a fraction, and he offered his arm, watching you carefully slide your forearm into the crook of his elbow before he led you across the street and into the busy establishment. The only open seats were at the very edge of the u-shaped counter, crammed into a corner, and he confidently weaved his way through the other patrons to help you onto one open stool before taking the other. You tucked your handbag against the wall with a huff of annoyance and he cocked his head.

“There are not many things I miss about being a paratrooper, but having a pocket for everything is certainly one of them.” You smirked a little as he laughed warmly, gesturing the bartender over.

“What would you like?” He turned to you to order first and then ordered a beer for himself. “So where do you work?” He leaned in to be sure you could hear him over the din of conversation.

“At a bank down by the docks, customers don’t seem to be put off by me, my boss is a stand-up guy.” You replied, nodding your thanks as your beverages arrived.

He nodded warmly, lifting his glass to take a sip. The movement caught your eye as you enjoyed the first taste of your own drink, gaze falling onto the bare ring finger on his left hand. Inhaling sharply, the burn of alcohol in your trachea set you coughing, and you quickly put down your glass lest you spill it all over yourself. Lipton looked to you quickly in concern before following your eyeline, holding up his left hand thoughtfully.

“Paperwork was finalized a few months ago.” He muttered once you calmed your spasming throat.

Guilt flooded you even though there had been no real transgression on your part aside from one half-accidental kiss in Germany. You looked at him with unmasked sorrow and shook your head, frowning as he set his hand over yours where it rested on the countertop.

“I’m a different person now and so is she, please don’t carry my burdens too.” He said gently, squeezing your hand in his.

“Lip I’m so sorry…” You uttered the well-worn phrase of sympathy, uncertain of what else you could possibly say.

“What about you? Anyone special in your life?” He asked as he lifted his hand from yours, reaching for his glass to take another sip.

You shook your head quickly “Hasn’t really been time, or worthwhile candidates.” You replied, taking a generous sip of your drink.

“Hmm.” He uttered noncommittally before glancing at his beer appreciatively. “It sure is nice to be back where they know how to serve one of these.”

You laughed softly. “Not a fan of tepid beer, Lipton?” You teased, leaning against the counter a little to turn and look at him better.

He wrinkled his nose a little and shook his head, making you laugh again. The pair of you began to reminisce then, reminding one another of funny moments you had shared, trading stories about the training you had endured separately. All the while the bar became more and more crowded, forcing you to lean closer together just to hear each other. You ordered another round as he seemed inclined to linger and you most certainly could not say no to more time basking in his presence. You had nearly finished your second drinks when he looked at you intently.

“You’ve never met a man you could spend the rest of your life with?” His knee brushed against yours as he turned closer to you on his stool.

“Not since I got home from Europe, no.” Your answer was careful, keeping it strictly truthful, hoping not to incriminate yourself.

“And before that?” He probed persistently and you pressed your lips together, looking at him meaningfully.

“I don’t know if you want the answer to that, Carwood.” You responded at last, fingers gripping your drink tighter as his eyes snapped to yours at the use of his preferred name.

“No, I really think I do.” He pinned you with a firm look and you took the final gulp of your drink, letting it sear its way down to your stomach.

“I did yeah, but the timing was all wrong.”

“And what about now?” He wet his lips with an almost-invisible flick of his tongue, but your eyes could not help but follow the movement.

“What about now, Carwood?” You challenged breathlessly.

“Keep using my name and it’s absolutely perfect.” He replied earnestly, leaning closer to you.

Your exhaled shakily. “You mean that?”

“I do.” He nodded firmly.

“It’s always been you, Carwood.” You sighed, eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his forehead against yours, finger entwining to hold your hand tightly.

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to understand it.” He muttered, breath fanning across your face.

You shook your head quickly and looked at him, voice thick with emotion. “It wasn’t you, it was the timing of everything.”

Carwood nodded, cupping your cheek with his free hand and you leaned into his touch. “Still have a lot to make up for.” He countered.

“Call me stubborn.” You teased him fondly, ducking a quick kiss to his cheek. “Would you like to come up to my apartment?” You murmured against his ear, holding your breath until he nodded softly.

Once the tab was settled, by a very insistent Carwood, you made your way back across the street and up to your fifth-floor residence, never once letting go of his hand. Unlocking the door, you led him into your modest studio apartment, toeing off your shoes at the door, smiling as he did the same.

“We never actually ate dinner, are you hungry?” You asked as you locked the door behind him.

He shook his head and stepped forward to cup your cheeks gently, pressing his lips to your firmly. Your hands gripped his forearms tightly, shifting closer.

“I’m sorry I’ve just…” He murmured as he pulled back.

“Been dreaming of that for three years.” You cut him off gently, leaning in to kiss him once again, arms sliding around his neck.

Carwood’s arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as his mouth moved against yours, the intensity of your kisses escalating to the exchanging of breath through parted lips before you slid your tongue against his wantonly. His fingers curled into the fabric of your dress as his chest rumbled in delight, years worth of simmering tension boiling over as you pressed him back into the door, tasting him thoroughly.

One of his hands slowly slid down to your lower back, making you arch closer to him still, gasping against his lips as you could feel the outline of his rapidly hardening length pressing against you. Hands shifting to grip the lapels of his jacket, you walked backward through the apartment easily, eyes locked on his, until you pivoted to press on his shoulders and sit him down on the end of your bed.

“Are you sure?” He murmured up at you thickly as you slid to straddle his thighs.

“Only if you are.” You swallowed, wondering if you were overwhelming the poor man.

“I love you.” Carwood smiled warmly and slid his fingers to the back of your neck to pull you in for a tender kiss.

Heart feeling as though it had broken free of your ribcage to soar through the clouds, you buried your fingers into his hair, returning the kiss fiercely. “God, I love you too.” You breathed against his mouth, voice rough with emotion.

A small noise of surprise left your lips as his hands gripped your thighs and he skillfully rolled you onto your back. Grinning with a hint of pride, his hands skimmed higher beneath the hem of your dress and slip to unfasten your stockings with practiced ease, rolling them down and off your legs one at a time, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of each calf once the skin was bared to him. He took a moment to shrug out of his suit jacket before crawling up your body to paint teasingly soft kisses down the column of your throat, working at the fastenings of your dress.

Not one to be idle, your fingers began to work at the buttons of his dress shirt, tugging it free of the waistband of his pants before pushing it down his arms. Carwood pulled back to deposit it onto the floor before gently sliding your dress down your body to join it. His hands skimmed along your silk-clad sides as he drank you in, features painted with wonder.

“All of this hiding under that uniform.” He uttered.

Biting your lip, you pushed up to kiss him warmly. “Could say the same about you, you know.” You traced your hands along the muscles of his shoulders and down his arms before shifting your focus to undoing his belt, delighting in the pink tinge of his cheeks in response.

He trailed open mouthed kisses along the neckline of your slip, brushing against the tops of your breasts, making you exhale shakily as you worked his pants open and off his body. Stepping free of them before crawling back onto the bed, he slid the straps of your slip down, revealing your lingerie to his heated gaze. “As if you couldn’t get any more beautiful…” He shook his head, slip discarded behind him before his lips descended onto yours once more, sealing off any glib reply you might have been able to muster.

Fingers skimming up your ribs, you whimpered into his mouth as his broad palm cupped your breast through the silky material of your brassiere, gripping at the back of his undershirt, insistently pulling the fabric up his skin. His tongue laved along your cleavage, shivers wracking your body at the sensation of his hot breath on your damp skin as he continued to knead at your sensitive flesh. Feeling him begin to sit up, you grabbed the gathered material of his undershirt in your fist and pulled it over his head, throwing it to the side somewhere as he worked your bra and garter belt free.

Caressing the still-defined muscles of his chest and abdomen, you cried out softly as his mouth sealed around first one nipple and then the other, always keeping a balance of pleasure between the two that was filling your veins with scorching desire. Delving past the waistline of his boxers, your hand sought his cock impatiently, and as your fingers wrapped around him, Carwood pressed his face to your sternum with a grunt. You were honestly taken aback when he gently but firmly gripped your wrist and pulled your hand free of him.

“You first, beautiful.” He murmured, leaning up to peck your lips before his mouth returned to its teasing work, pressing your wrist into the mattress before he cupped between the apex of your thighs.

“Carwood!” You gasped softly, hips bucking to his hand slightly before you sunk your teeth into your lower lip, fingers grasping at the bedding in an effort to respect his wishes.

His hazel eyes looked up to yours across the planes of your torso, pupils dilating rapidly as he traced your folds through the silken material of your underwear, your body writhing eagerly beneath his touch. Unable to both keep your eyes open for him and your mouth shut, you whimpered loudly, hips bucking more insistently as you desperately needed more of him. His eyes closed briefly, his mouth pressing a damp kiss to your side before he pulled back to strip you of your underwear, shifting to lay next to you. His fingers resumed their torment, the skin-on-skin contact with your slick core making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Look so pretty like this, beautiful.” He breathed against your ear, making you shudder. “Content and enjoying yourself.” His thumb zeroed in on your bundle of nerves, wrenching a moan from you. “Making all the loveliest sounds.”

“Mm! Car… so good…” You panted in reply, turning your head to kiss him deeply, mewling into his mouth as he sank his index finger into your needy warmth.

Turning his hand to grind the heel of his palm against your clit, he worked his finger in and out of you smoothly before adding a second, your back bowing as you started to clench tighter around him, breathless with impending climax. “Please show me how you fall apart, beautiful.”

Your eyelids fluttered open as he propped himself up on his free arm to get a better view of your face, licking his lips hungrily as he added a third finger, sending you hurtling into climax with a ragged cry. His fingers continued their movements, prolonging your pleasure until you grinned up at him languidly. “Just when I thought you could never surprise me again, Carwood…what a gentleman you are.” Your grin widened at the scarlet tinge to his cheeks in response to your praise.

Your eyes widened slightly as he licked his fingers clean, your teeth sinking into your ravaged lower lip at the sight.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” He murmured, thumb gently easing the plump flesh from beneath your incisor before he kissed you warmly.

Rolling onto your hip, you tugged at the waistband of his boxers, fighting the friction of the fabric against the bedding before you finally worked them free. Your hand once again wrapped around the length of him, eagerly drinking in his soft moan against your lips as you stroked along the velvety flesh. Sliding your leg over his hip you shuffled closer, rocking your pelvis forward to guide him into your welcoming body.

“Oh!” He breathed harshly as he rolled his hips forward, nestling into you fully.

“Ah, Car.” You sighed, burying your fingers into his hair, pressing your forehead against his.

The intensity of his eyes boring into yours as he thrust into and pulled from your body was nearly too much to bear, the agony of ecstasy bringing the dewy cling of teardrops to your eyelashes.

“Ok?” He whispered, hips stilling.

“God yes, just so fucking happy.” You sniffled and buried your face against his throat shyly, moaning richly as he began to move again, his fingers gripping the soft flesh of your buttock.

“I love you so much, beautiful.” He groaned into your hair, pelvis grinding against yours as your muscles involuntarily clenched around him at those words.

“You too, Car.” You whispered, pressing salty kisses against his neck.

You could feel the muscles of his jaw clenching against your temple as he struggled to maintain his pace, your body responding eagerly as you felt yourself ascending towards release. Crying out against his skin as you orgasmed, he quickly pulled out, his own release spilling across your inner thigh. He’d barely made it, but Carwood still did his best to be a gentleman. You lifted your tearstained face to kiss him deeply, caressing his cheek and down his back warmly.

Carwood’s lips brushed against your cheeks, kissing away any trace of your tears tenderly. “That was incredible…” He murmured and you nodded warmly, pressing your lips to the scar on his right cheek.

“You’re incredible.” You replied softly, unable to stop your lazy smile as he ducked his head a little under your open admiration of him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?” He pressed a kiss to your scar in turn, knocking the wind out of you, leaving you staring up at him in stunned silence as he slid to his feet to find the washroom. “Bath?”

You simply nodded, having somehow lost the ability to form words as he grabbed your hands and led you there. Never having considered yourself ashamed of the mark you wore so prominently, you were honestly bewildered at your reaction to his tender gesture. Were still pondering it as you slid into the temperate water with him, neither of you wanting a terribly warm bath on a hot summer evening.

“You’re awful quiet, beautiful.” He murmured from behind you, fingers trailing water along the skin of your arms.

“Sorry Car, I just…when you kissed my face, I got all…”

“When I kissed your scar, you mean.” He corrected softly, pressing his cheek against yours and you nodded. “Did it bother you?”

“Not at all.” You breathed quickly. “It felt so lovely I just, never realized I wanted that?” You turned to look back at him, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed his lips to the mark once more, letting them linger there.

“You’ll always be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Carwood…” You sighed and turned in his arms to kiss him firmly.

It took a lot of determination on his part to get the pair of you clean, dry, and fed but he managed to prevail despite your wandering hands. Sliding into bed with you in a set of summer pyjamas and him in his boxers and undershirt, he pulled you to his chest, holding you warmly. “Tonight has turned out far better than I could have ever imagined.”

You laughed against him drowsily. “Much better than speeches from Generals Taylor and McAuliffe while eating hotel food…”

He laughed warmly and squeezed your shoulder. “Sleep well, beautiful.”

“You too, Car.” You murmured, nestling against him contentedly.

The firm knocking at your door the next morning had you snuffling awake against Carwood’s hair, brows furrowed, thoroughly disgruntled to have your peaceful slumber interrupted. He lifted his head from where it was tucked beneath your chin and blinked up at you blearily, confusion etched on his features. There was another string of rapping knuckles against wood and you sighed heavily, unwrapping your arms from around him to peel yourself from the bed and grab your housecoat.

“Just a moment!” You slung it on, doing it up quickly to preserve your modesty as you walked towards the door, Carwood following at your side.

You turned the deadbolt but left the chain in place, Carwood standing on the other side of the doorframe as you cracked it open just enough to speak to whomever was there without revealing him.

Your eyes widened as there stood George Luz, grinning broadly with a warm cry of your name.

“George?!”

“We missed you last night! Just wanted to stop by and make sure you were still coming to the lunch that Bill arranged for Easy.” He looked at you sternly and you nodded quickly, pushing the door shut to slide the chain free, opening it again more widely and smiling at him softly.

“Of course I am. Sorry about last night work got out of hand.” You swallowed, hating to lie, but you and Carwood hadn’t really discussed much. “By the time I got out of there the banquet was half over and I didn’t want to make a fuss showing up late.”

His eyes twinkled a little. “Well, you gotta do what you gotta do. Hey by any chance you seen Lip? He came in from West Virginia yesterday but didn’t show up at dinner and he’s not in his room at the hotel, either.”

You blinked in feigned innocence. “Why would I have seen him, George, I was working and then here.” You swallowed as you could see Carwood grimace out of the corner of your eye.

“Yeah right, of course. I’m real worried about him, might have to go to the cops…”

Carwood sighed deeply and grabbed the edge of the door, pulling it open wider to show his face as proof of life. “I’m here, Luz.”

Luz’s resulting grin was as blinding as the sun, making you bow your head. “Oh! Oh, I see this reunion is goin’ real well.”

“We’ll see you at lunch, Luz.” Carwood replied firmly, pushing the door shut in his face, turning to you slowly. “You ok?” He whispered, not wanting to be overheard.

You looked to him slowly before breaking out into a fit of laughter, nodding quickly. “Jesus, that man has been rooting for us since Haguenau…” You sighed fondly as Carwood’s eyes widened.

“Seriously?”

You cleared your throat and composed yourself, resting your hands on his shoulders. “I’m alright, are you?”

He nodded quickly before his brow furrowed. “George Luz knew before I did?”

“I didn’t tell him, if that’s what you mean, he just…figured it out somehow. Scared the hell out of me.”

Carwood frowned more and set his hands on your hips, stepping closer. “That’s why you left that day.” He breathed in realization, and you swallowed tightly.

“It was a contributing factor, yes.” You admitted, pulling your lower lip into your mouth with your teeth.

His thumb rose to gently free it, soothing the slight indentation. “Wish you would have talked to me, instead.”

Exhaling heavily, you pursed your lips in thought before replying. “I probably could have done things differently, I’ll admit, but at the time I felt like I had no choice. I am sorry for how much pain and confusion it must have caused you though, Car.” You pressed your lips to the pad of his thumb which had lingered at the corner of your mouth as you spoke.

“I’m sorry you felt that you had no choice – how lonely that must have been. I’m sorry I didn’t meet you sooner…” He swallowed harshly, blinking rapidly as his eyes grew damp.

“Hey, hey neither of us can change the past, Carwood.” You kissed between his brows warmly. “It’s behind us now, we have a whole future ahead.”

His eyes rosed to yours slowly, and he nodded. “What would you like that future to look like, beautiful?”

“I want you in it.” You replied easily, without hesitation, swallowing at his shy smile in return. “Don’t really care what it takes at this point.”

“Sounds perfect.” He nodded, sealing his statement with a deep kiss.

That afternoon as you sat surrounded by members of your old company, you nodded as Carwood excused himself to use to washroom, laughing brightly as Guarnere continued his story about their old commanding officer at Toccoa. You hadn’t realized how much you had missed each and every one of them until you’d arrived at the restaurant, greeted by a chorus of shouts of your name. Carwood was already there, having gone back to his hotel room to change beforehand, and no one but Luz seemed suspicious of how close the pair of you were sitting at the table. Couldn’t see the way your knee was pressed against his, unable to bear the separation.

“Can’t believe his wife ran off with some 4F milkman.” Guarnere shook his head and you looked to him sharply.

“Who…Carwood’s?!” You gasped out, eyes widening as he nodded in confirmation.

Carwood had had every opportunity to speak ill of his now ex-wife and yet remained a gentleman even after what she’d put him through. Impossible as it seemed, you somehow fell even further in love with the man right then.

Luz grinned at you knowingly from his seat to your right. “Sure seems like marriage just ain’t forever anymore these days, huh?” He winked and the other guys muttered their agreement.

You nodded silently, still processing the news, looking up as Powers started talking but sent a smile to Carwood as he slid back into his chair to your left. You were vaguely aware that Luz had risen from his seat but weren’t entirely certain what he was up to until his hand pressed against your right cheek, his other against Carwood’s left, pressing your neighboring cheeks together tightly to form one continuous line with your scars.

“See boys, what I’d tell ya? They were made for each other – their scars even match!” He crowed proudly as Guarnere and the others tilted their heads back to laugh richly.

You giggled softly while simultaneously swatting at Luz until he sat back down, jaw dropping as you felt Carwood’s lips find their way onto your scar, the boys roaring with glee. Turning quickly, you kissed the well faded mark on his cheek in turn, pressing your face against his shoulder as a few of them started clapping and at least one of them muttered ‘finally.’

“So, when’s the wedding?” Luz asked boldly and everyone leaned in with bated breath.

“I assure you your invites will be in the mail as soon as we know.” Carwood replied diplomatically and you gazed up at him in wonder as more cheers erupted around the table and someone started calling for champagne.

‘Ok?’ He mouthed silently and you nodded quickly.

“Everything is perfect.”

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

It's Better This Way Masterlist

Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky

#carwood lipton x reader #carwood lipton imagines #carwood lipton imagine #carwood lipton #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fic #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers

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softguarnere · 2 years

Note

would eat up anything with spears x a combat medic/nurse reader :)

Learn to be Lonely

Ron Speirs x reader

A/N: The way that I went feral upon seeing this request in my inbox. I immediately knew I had to commandeer it to add to my soft!Speirs agenda. Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you enjoy this! 💕

Warnings: sickness, mentions of war, the author probably confusing "lie" and "lay" (it is what it is; we're just going with it at this point)

Amidst all the chaos, it's the little pockets of peace like this that make you feel, just for a moment, like things could be almost normal again. Despite the fact that some of the Haguenau buildings that Easy has been quartered in have missing walls, are covered with a thin tissue of dust, and that the world perpetually looks as dull as an oncoming rain cloud, waking up before the men and sitting up at the kitchen table sipping on warm coffee provides a moment of what's as close to relaxation as you can get under the circumstances.

Eugene always arrives shortly after you sit down with your coffee. Neither of you talk much, but you're grateful for the company -- your thoughts become a little too loud if no one else is around, but something about your fellow medic provides a sense of comfort. Even when you do talk -- even when it has to be about the war you're both trying to forget for a moment, and the men, and how they're doing -- it's pleasant.

But this morning, something seems to be on Doc Roe's mind.

There's no denying that you're both observant; it just comes through in different ways. Whereas Eugene is quiet and enjoys people-watching, picking up on the men's little ticks and mannerisms, you're more outgoing, getting to know them and their thoughts and feelings on a personal level. It's what makes you work so well as a team -- you're able to compare notes and spot problems with them almost immediately. Which means that you can also spot problems with each other.

Eugene sits across the grimy kitchen table from you and takes a sip of the bitter coffee you brewed. His brow is furrowed, which wouldn't necessarily be unusual, but he keeps frowning into his coffee cup. Several times he opens his mouth slightly and draws a breath, like he's getting ready to say something, but then he stops himself and takes a sip of the coffee instead.

"Something wrong?" You finally ask.

His slender frame jerks as he looks up at you. He blinks. "Oh. No." He pauses. "I'm not sure."

You sip your coffee, waiting for him to continue.

His voice is quiet, like he's afraid someone might overhear him, and he looks almost puzzled when he admits, "I think that something might be wrong with Captain Speirs."

"Speirs? That's the last thing we need. First Lipton, now him . . ."

"Well, I'm not sure." Eugene frowns down at his coffee again. He shakes his head. "He's hard to read."

"That's an understatement."

"I noticed it last night, when most of the men were downstairs, joking around and playing cards. He stayed towards the edges of the room, and then I saw him slip out early and head upstairs. I assume he went to bed."

That in itself wouldn't be so unusual; Captain Speirs is a private person, and when Easy Company isn't in active combat, he's often more of a presence than a part of the group.

"I don't know," Eugene says again before you can point this out. "Something about him just seemed . . . different. Off, even."

"Maybe he was just tired," you suggest, even though you're not able to think of a single time during the whole war that you've seen the legend of a man anything other than alert.

"Yeah." Eugene agrees. "Maybe."

Voices approach the kitchen, and a second later, some of the men start shuffling in, roused and fortified by the smell of coffee -- however bad it may be.

"You checked on Lip yet?" You ask your fellow medic. And then your morning continues just like any other one.

Something is not right, you think to yourself as you watch Skinny and Liebgott march off in defeat, looking frustrated. It's the fifth time since that morning that someone has asked you if there's any chance that you know where Captain Speirs is. And, you have to wonder as you make your way towards the bedroom in the quiet corner of the house most of the company is quartered in, maybe no one has thought to do the obvious thing and check his room.

You pause just outside the door, unsure. You don't know Speirs particularly well. He's the Captain, yes, but he's more distant than other officers. Would he even want someone to check on him? Where others might see it as a gesture of concern and goodwill, someone like Speirs might see it as overstepping, you reason as snatches of rumors play in your memory.

No. You make up your mind -- you're a medic and it's your job to watch out for the health and wellbeing of these men. If he sees it as overstepping, then it's his problem. Your raise your fist and knock on the door before you can talk yourself out of it.

It's quiet, and slow, but from the other side of the door, you can just make out the sounds of movement. A moment later the door handle squeaks and a pair of dark, sunken eyes peers at you from the door's crack.

The door opens wider to reveal Captain Speirs, but not as you've ever known him. Whereas your Captain stands tall, alert, and ready to move at a moment notice, this man moves slowly, and keeps blinking, like he can't get his eyes to focus. Not to mention the shakiness in his hands as he opens the door.

"(Y/N)?" His voice sounds hoarse.

It takes you a minute to find your voice. "Captain Speirs, Sir. Are you okay?"

He blinks rapidly for a moment and then leans against the doorway. Even in the low lighting of the hall, his face glistens in a sheen of sweat. "(Y/N), I think . . . I think that something is wrong." He squints at you. "Aren't you cold?"

"No, Sir. Are you? You're sweating."

"Am I?" He sounds shocked, but his brow only furrows slightly.

"Captain, everyone has been looking for you all morning."

The Speirs that you know never would have been in a situation like this, you have to remind yourself, but if he had, he would have jumped into action the minute he realized something was wrong. But this Speirs doesn't seem fazed. Yes, you affirm, something is wrong.

Speirs shuts his eyes and draws in a deep breath -- or at least, as deep a breath as he can manage. You step forward and prod him with gentle hands, back into his room, back into bed. He doesn't protest.

"Sir, have you eaten anything today?" You ask as you cover him with a blanket. "Have you had anything to drink?"

He shakes his head. You had assumed as much. You're already planning a course of action for how to deal with this. Making sure that the Captain doesn't get dehydrated from isolating himself all morning is just another step in that plan.

"I'm sick, aren't I?" He asks when he sees you rummage through your medic kit for something to give him. Something in his voice is different than you've ever heard it. He doesn't sound defeated, exactly, but he sounds tired and . . . sad?

"I'm afraid so. You might have picked up Lipton's pneumonia. We'll have to figure out what this is so we can fight it."

Strong hands scrub themselves over his face as he sighs. "Hate bein' sick," he mutters.

You reach out and pat his shoulder -- without even thinking about it, just like you would for any of the other men -- as you assure him, "We're going to fix that."

What would you do without George Luz? you have to wonder. You've seen other men in Easy practically beg him for the chocolate bars and cigarettes being shipped in, only to be refused. But the second that you asked for an extra food ration and had only sent him a beaming smile when he asked why you needed it, he tossed one to you with a wink, and even gave you first dibs on some of the medicine that had arrived that morning. Being friends with the radioman in charge of supplies has it's perks.

Even though it takes a minute for him to pack some medical supplies into a box and asks you to take some to Doc Roe, you don't think much of it -- someone as private as Speirs probably isn't very keen to have you rushing back to play doctor in a space as personal as his room.

You're in such a good mood after seeing the shocked looks on the rest of the company's faces when Luz gives into you that you smile all the way to Lipton's room, where you know Eugene will be. You trade off some of the medicine Luz sent you with with a quiet "I found the Captain" before you head back.

You knock lightly on the door of Speirs' room before entering with the food ration and medicine, despite the fact that you know he's inside, and that he should be lying on the bed.

Should be.

He's sitting on the side of the bed, feet flat on the floor, hand on his knees and head bowed, looking fatigued.

"Captain?" You question.

"I thought --" he stops, swallows thickly. "-- I was going to look for someone."

"For who? Me?"

He nods. "I just . . . nevermind."

Well okay then. If it weren't for the fact that you were so worried about him, seeing him act so unlike himself might be a bit funny. Who would have thought that Ron Speirs, of all people, would be a person who would get loopy when sick? You would have imagined him to be someone who muscled through it.

Gently, you help him lie back down. You make sure he eats and you give him some medicine. You even give him gentle reassurances that he'll be better soon, just like the good medic that you are. But something stops you from leaving him and moving on to see if anyone else in the company needs looking after.

"Will you be okay, Sir?" You ask.

He shrugs. "Do I just stay here? And sleep through this?"

"That would probably be the most conducive to your recovery. No paperwork and overworking yourself like Sergeant Lipton."

You wouldn't be surprised if he protested, insisting that there are things to be done and that he's going to do them. Instead, he frowns.

"I'm quarantined in here by myself." Something about the way that he says it tugs at your heart strings. You're trying to decide if the sickness is causing him to act unlike himself or reveal something about who he really is when he says, "I hate being alone."

"Really?" There's no time to stop the surprise from slipping out. If he notices, he doesn't care. He only nods. "But everyone thinks that you prefer it."

Silence starts to settle over you like the dust that perpetually covers so much of the house's interior, but you decide to break it before you even really figure out why. "I could stay with you, Sir. If you would like."

He blinks up at you. "You would? You're not afraid of me like the others?"

He might as well have punched you in the gut, what with the way the sentiment lands. You're just as guilty as everyone else, thinking of Speirs as some sort of demigod who prefers solitude to human companionship.

But suddenly he's not that person anymore. He's not Speirs the Killer. He's not Speirs the Legend. He's Speirs the man. He's a man. And he's sick. And he's lonely.

And he seems like he really wants you to stay with him.

You perch on the edge of the bed and run your hand through his sweaty hair under the guise of checking his temperature. "Why would I be afraid of you?"

A hum of contentment escapes him as your fingers card his dark locks. His eyes flutter shut, but just before they can, he sighs, "Well, I'm glad you're not." And then he falls asleep before you can ask what he means by that.

It would be easy to leave. He's asleep and he wouldn't notice. There are other things you could be doing. But you said you would stay, and you have no intention of turning yourself into a liar.

Part of you wonders if he'll feel better when he wakes up, become embarrassed by what he admitted, and send you away. Something that you can't quite name stirs within you as you watch him sleep, and you find that you don't want that to happen.

However you two might feel about what has just happened is something you can deal with later. For now, you're content to just watch the legend -- no, the man -- look uncharacteristically peaceful while he sleeps.

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1waveshortofashipwreck · 25 days

Text

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 7: The Boys Back Home

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when some of Easy Company's most valuable soldiers disappear?

Words: 2,135

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Author's note: Hey everyone! Apologies for the delay with the chapter lol 🫠 This chapter is the point of view of the men in Bastogne!! Also, because this is my fanfiction and I can do whatever I want, there will be some soldiers who somehow survived their demise in previous episodes (Miller? Dukeman? PERHAPS) Anywho, thank you as always for reading and be on the lookout for Chapter 8! 🥰

"Luz!" Carwood cried over the last shell to drop. He watched the radioman dive into the foxhole - George met the same fate as the nine others who dropped into that hole, none of them came out. Lipton was astonished. At most, a foxhole could fit three of the men comfortably, perhaps four if needed. But ten men in one? Lipton should have seen a dog pile of olive drab stretching above the opening. Instead, he saw an empty hole in the ground. The First Sergeant blinked and rubbed his eyes, making sure what he saw was indeed reality. The foxhole stayed empty when he opened his eyes.

Lipton sprinted from where he was taking cover, desperately searching for Lieutenant Dike. He knew that Dike was the least preferable choice, especially in a situation like this, but the officers Lipton would have preferred to ask for help had disappeared. After an agonizing search mission, Lipton finally found the Lieutenant - Dike was absentmindedly strolling along, looking at the trees around him with a glassy, thousand-yard stare. “Lieutenant Dike!” Lipton called out, scrambling over tree roots and broken branches. Dike snapped back to reality, his posture automatically improving when he saw First Sergeant Lipton.

“What is it, First Sergeant?” Dike asked, trying to be authoritative. The yawn that followed his words worked against him. Carwood began to speak, but his words were caught in his throat… how in the world was he going to tell the lieutenant what just happened?

“Sir… we um…” Lipton tried to force the words out of his mouth.

“Spit it out, First Sergeant Lipton!” Dike ordered, irritation evident in his voice. Lipton paused, taking a breath before responding to the officer.

“Sir… several men are gone…”

“First Sergeant, this is war, we're going to have casualties every day.”

“Not like that sir, I mean… they've disappeared…”

Dike stared blankly at the NCO, wondering if he heard him right.

“Where did they go, Carwood?” Hearing Dike use his first name gave Lipton a feeling he could only describe as ick, but nevertheless, he continued.

“Sir, I saw ten men go into a foxhole, but when I reached them, the foxhole was empty.”

“And you’re sure you went to the right foxhole?” Lipton had to pause and take a breath before answering.

“Yes, sir.” In a flurry of urgency that Lipton had never seen from Dike before, the lieutenant had rounded up Compton, Peacock, Shames, Foley, and Welsh, as well as radioed to Colonel Sink. Lipton hastily repeated his experience to the officers, who were just as hesitant to believe Lipton as Dike was.

“So they’re just… gone?” Harry asked, still skeptical.

“I wish I had more information for you sir, but all I saw was the men go into the foxhole and not come out,” Carwood replied, defeat evident in his voice.

“Shit…” Welsh muttered under his breath. The Irishman stared at the ground in front of him, wondering how he let two of his closest friends just disappear.

“So who all are we missing?” Buck interjected. He stood with his arms crossed, instinctively taking command of the conversation.

“Captains Winters and Nixon, Lieutenant Speirs, and then Roe, Luz, Liebgott, Guarnere, Toye, Malarkey, and Randleman,” the NCO listed off the men he saw disappear, and prayed he would see again.

What Lipton did not see was Skip Muck quickly scrambling back to his foxhole. He had originally made his way to CP to ask Captain Winters a question, but when he overheard the discussion between Lipton and the officers, panic consumed the soldier’s thoughts. Muck all but fell into Penkala’s foxhole, unaware that he inadvertently elbowed his best friend in the face.

“HEY! What the fuck!?” Penkala yelped in surprise, his hands shooting to his cheek.

“Keep it down, Penk! I gotta tell you something,” Muck hushed the soldier, looking to make sure no one else was around. “I just heard Lipton telling Buck that we lost a bunch of men.”

“Like, to a sniper?”

“No, like they fucking disappeared.” Alex rolled his eyes, figuring Skip was just up to his usual mischief.

“Yeah, and I’m marrying Rita Hayworth.”

“Penk, I’m serious. Winters, Nixon, and a few others are gone and they have no fucking idea where they went.”

“Wait, what’d you say?” Muck and Penkala looked up to see that Shifty Powers had joined them in their foxhole. The rifleman looked at his two friends with shock and concern - how could the soldiers just disappear, especially vital officers like Winters and Nixon?

“He said we’re missing half the fucking company!” Penkala’s voice raised again, becoming more distressed by the minute.

“I said keep it down, you ass-hat!” Skip punctuated his interjection with a sharp whack to the back of Penkala’s head. “Look, we all know Dike isn’t gonna do shit. When Colonel Sink gets here, we need to back Lipton up and make sure Sink knows what’s happening.”

“I can go round up some of the other NCOs and tell them,” Shifty offered, gathering up his rifle to go find the rest of Easy Company’s leaders.

“Alright, we’ll come find you once Sink gets here,” Penkala replied before Shifty set off on his solo mission. Before long, the Virginian had gathered up Alley, Christianson, Grant, Martin, McClung, Perconte, Sisk, Talbert, Popeye, and Smokey Gordon. Of course, the trio of Hashey, Garcia, and Miller wanted to tag along as well - even if they did not have a leadership role, they wanted to help their company however they could.

“I really hope Bull’s okay…” Hashey muttered to no one in particular, crossing his arms to conserve the little warmth he had. “First he went missing in Holland, now we lose him in Bastogne…”

“Yeah, we need to keep a leash on him or something!” Miller snickered to his friends before Babe Heffron bumbled up to the group. The redhead resembled a baby horse learning to gallop as he jumped and weaved past tree roots and foxholes making his way to the group of soldiers.

“The fuck is this I hear about Gaurnere missing!?” Babe’s respirations were loud and labored as he attempted to catch his breath. Before anyone could respond, Lipton came across the group of soldiers all congregated near CP.

“Hey fellas, everyone doing all right?” Carwood asked nervously - he loved his men, but he knew they were up to no good if too many were in one place without a good reason.

“We heard about the men going missing,” Smokey replied, Mississippi accent thick in his words.

“We want to help, Lip, however we can,” Floyd Talbert added. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, Smokey glancing a look of concern at his best friend.

Lipton was about to express his gratitude to his company before Colonel Sink’s Jeep was seen pulling up beside the rest of the group. Lipton quickly went to grab the company’s officers as Sink nodded in thanks to his driver and stepped out of the car. With a loud, abrupt command to “Ten-Hut!” from Buck Compton, the gathered men snapped to attention and saluted the colonel, who offered a gentle salute in return.

“At ease men,” Sink instructed before turning to the officers, “I knew it was bad when I was getting a call from Dike.”

Lipton and Welsh needed to bite their cheeks to hide their amused smiles. “We’re not sure what to do, sir, or if anything can be done…” Buck replied to the colonel before taking a step back - the blonde gestured for Lipton to step up, an instruction to inform Sink of their predicament.

“Carwood, tell me exactly what you saw.” The rest of the gathered men leaned in as Sink spoke, anxious to understand what was happening.

“Ten men went into a foxhole while we were getting shelled, sir, but the foxhole was completely empty when I went to check on them afterward. There was absolutely no trace of anyone being in that foxhole, sir, and now we can’t find any of the men I saw go in.”

The older man nodded in understanding, silently processing Lipton’s words. “Who all went in?” The NCO repeated the names from earlier, ending with Captains Winters and Nixon. Sink simply looked down at the snow. “And you have no idea where the hell any of them went…”

“No sir,” Lipton replied quietly.

The colonel simply let out a sigh and shook his head, “I’m sorry boys, but since it was during a shelling and they were last seen going into a foxhole, the higher-ups probably aren’t going to authorize a search party,” he sent a determined look to the men, “I’m going to do everything I can to push the request through, but I better not hear of anyone taking matters into their own hands.” Before getting back into his Jeep, Sink turned to Lieutenant Dike, or rather, where Dike should have been. “And where the hell is Dike?”

“We don’t know, sir, we looked for him before you arrived but didn’t find him,” Welsh chimed in. Sink rubbed his forehead in irritation before turning to Buck and Welsh.

“All right, I’m making this an official order. Lieutenant Compton, if Dike isn’t to be found and a decision needs to be made, your company comes to you. Harry, you’re second in command. You kids do what you think is right. You’re good soldiers with smart heads on your shoulders.” Sink nodded to the officers and saluted the men before getting back in his Jeep and driving back to Regimental HQ - the poor man put his head in his hands, his most trusted officers were gone without a trace, and there was virtually nothing he could do to help them.

As if on cue, Dike returned to the company, “What are we all standing around for? We have a line to protect!” Dike crescendoed his voice to try and be more authoritative, but his efforts fell flat. Eyes rolled and voices groaned as the gathered men all dispersed and returned to their assigned duties - well, all except for Babe, Talbert, Smokey, McClung, Shifty, Alley, Grant, and Popeye. As everyone was trying to leave, Smokey grabbed the sleeve of whoever he could.

“Y’all, this isn’t right, we need to do something,” the machine gunner pleaded in a hushed tone.

“You heard Sink, though, there’s no way they’re gonna authorize a search party,” Moe replied, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Popeye took a beat before he chimed in, “...why do we need to wait for authorization?”

“Because only a general can authorize a search party,” Talbert answered the Virginian - while he did not agree with the policy at all, he knew that there was no getting around it.

“But didn’t Sink say that he left Buck and Welsh in charge if Dike isn’t around? They’re not the type to snitch,” Grant offered to the conversation, scrunching his shoulders up for warmth like a turtle retreating into its shell.

“Hell, they might be happy to help out,” Gordon affirmed the NCO. The men looked around at each other with uncertainty - what if Dike found out? Or Peacock? To be honest, it was probably worse for the latter officer to discover the plot. Thomas Peacock tries his best to be a good captain, but these efforts cause him to be rather heavy-handed with the rules. If Peacock were to hear of the plot to find the missing soldiers, he would surely either tell his superior officers or try to stop the soldiers himself.

“What if we get caught?” Shifty asked nervously - while he wanted to help his friends, the poor boy was nervous to hatch a plot like this.

“We can’t just do nothin’! We all know they’d do the same if it were any of us out there!” The man from Philly interjected, earning Babe a smack on the head from Grant.

“Where would we even start?” McClung asked the group.

“Well, best thing to do would be to investigate the foxhole and see if there are any clues,” everyone turned in shock to see Lipton returning to them. “I needed something from CP, and then I noticed all of you still over here, I figured you were up to no good,” the first sergeant said with a smile, earning him a loving slap on the back from Grant and Johnny Martin. The rest of the afternoon was about to be spent brainstorming, at least until one of the men needed to take their turn watching the line.

All of the men felt nervous, but especially Babe. Guarnere is his best friend, it would be one thing if Babe knew that he was wounded, even killed, but not knowing what happened to Bill was eating away at Babe worse than anything he had ever felt before.

~~~~~

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 (coming soon!)

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Thank you so much as always for reading and stay tuned for Chapter 8! 😁

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