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mlmxreader · 8 months

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Cleaning Up | Eugene Roe x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: “You do make me laugh” same as above

summary: it's been so long, and he's constantly been on your mind, but at least you end up finding him again.

tws: nudity (nonsexual), swearing, mentions of blood and excrement, smoking

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Roe was always on your mind; you could never forget his face or his voice or the way he smelled. Every town and every derelict village you and your regiment passed through, there was always something that made you think of him.

You wrote to him every day, always detailing what had reminded him of you and how; you never expected him to reply, but you sometimes got a response from him. Every night, you could still feel his arms around you, holding you tightly the way he used to when you were at base; even when you were sweating and you were too hot to sleep, you could still feel him holding onto you.

With each passing day, with each village and town you passed through, you could feel him getting closer; by the time you arrived at the camp that Easy Company had made, you were more than excited.

The second you heard his voice, you perked up, and ran off without saying a single word; dropping your pack on the way, letting your rifle clatter to the ground, tossing your helmet to the floor before you crashed right into him, howling his name and hugging him tightly.

Roe couldn’t help it, laughing softly as he held onto you and did his best not to cry; he didn’t think he would ever see you again, he didn’t think he would ever feel you hold him again.

Even if he did dream of it every night, and even if he could have sworn that you kept coming into his dreams and telling him that you wouldn’t be long, you would see him again. He had gotten every letter that you had sent, although they arrived days apart.

He wanted to cry, so fucking happy and so fucking relieved to see you again that he couldn’t cope with it.

Overwhelmed so terribly that all he could do was cling onto you, the fabric of your shirt bunched up into his hands at the back of your shoulders; he pressed his face against the side of your neck, not caring that your sweat dripped onto him and stained his skin.

He was just too fucking happy to see you again, to know that you were alive and that his dreams had all come true - you had come back, you had found him.

Amongst everything else, you had fucking found him again.

You pulled away, cupping his face in your hands as you grinned, using your pads of your thumbs to wipe away the tears he didn’t realise he had shed. “Oh, Eugene…”

“Hi,” he whispered. “You, uh, you look good.”

You shook your head, licking your lips as you dared to laugh softly. “Are you joking? I stink, I’m greasy and dirty and sweaty. I’m gross and sticky.”

“Still,” Roe murmured, shaking his head. “You look good.”

“You look better,” you told him, daring to kiss his cheek. “Did you get my letters?”

He nodded. “Every single one. I couldn’t reply.”

“You got them, though,” you whispered. “That’s what matters - and you didn’t write me a Dear John, either.”

Roe shook his head, looking almost offended that you would ever think he would do such a thing. “Never.”

“I missed you,” you breathed out, gently tracing his jaw. “I really did.”

He smiled, putting his arm around your shoulders. “There’s a river nearby… if you’re wounded, I can look at it.”

You didn’t need to say anything as you let him take you there; it was through some woodland nearby, just a short walk from the camp. No one would go looking for you, everyone had seen your reaction to seeing Roe again. It was obvious that you had simply gone off with him again, so no one batted an eye.

But while you stripped off and practically dived into the murky olive waters, Roe sat on the bank, guarding your clothes as he smoked a cigarette and watched you; he couldn’t help but to laugh when you gasped loudly at how cold the water was.

“You do make me laugh,” he said fondly. He had missed that, the way you made him laugh.

“It’s fucking cold!” You howled. “Freezing!”

“I’m not joining you,” Roe told you, shaking his head.

But you flashed him a pleading look, and he couldn’t resist it, flicking his cigarette aside before stripping down and folding his things beside yours. He didn’t notice that his boots had fallen slightly, leaning on yours; he thought you were joking about the water until he got waist deep, flinching and jumping slightly as he shivered.

“What was that about not joining me?” You joked with a raised brow.

Roe scoffed, shaking his head as he ducked his head under the olive waters; he scrubbed out a little bit of dirt from his hair, and brought his head back up. He wasn’t expecting it when you kissed him softly, but he didn’t mind either.

“Shut up,” he said softly, stealing another short kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you told him softly. “I wish we’d have met when I wasn’t so fucking gross and sweaty.”

Roe shrugged, shaking his head as he dared to laugh softly. “You’re the cleanest guy I’ve seen in weeks, and you’re not bleeding all over me so… I don’t mind it.”

It was true, in the time that you had been apart, Roe had seen so much worse than you; soldiers with limbs hanging off, their jaws only just clinging on by threads of thin flesh. He had seen soldiers bleed out, staining his uniform; he had seen soldiers coated in thick mud as well as their own guts.

Soldiers caked in shit where they had fallen into pits dug out for it. Soldiers coated in thick clay and mud for days on end when there was no water sources to bathe in and no soap. He had seen and smelled so much worse.

By his standards, you were pretty clean, so he didn’t really mind.

Besides, he was just happy to see you again. Sweating and dirty or not.

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bloodstainedsaint · 4 months

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noises in the bedroom with ron, lew, lieb, luz, and shifty

word count: 770+

warnings: reader has female genitalia, degradation (only in ron's), praise, teasing, i call nixon a whore for the reader (it's true)

notes: i couldn't include babe in this one cause i just decided that i would write for him (and therefore i must do Research) but hope you guys enjoy anyway !!

ronald speirs

big on praise-degradation, like 50/50 on it

unless you managed to really set him off (ex; make him jealous on purpose, tease him, be a brat, etc.), then don't expect very many kind words

he can be so mean and unfair when he wants to, but by the end of it he’s worshiping you like you're a deity

he’ll call you a slut but his slut, yk?

could not care less about who hears — no one's gonna confront him about it anyway with his reputation, and they're definitely not coming up to you either since they know ron is going to be death glaring them the whole time

he groans and grunts huskily + openly and encourages you to not cover up/muffle your sounds with your hand

(quickies are, of course, the exception since that would be unsafe, and if higher-ups are around, obviously he's about to care; in any other situation though, no one is safe from hearing the two of you)

lewis nixon

somehow his moans are louder than yours???

LIKE that's not a bad thing, it just means he's enjoying it just as much as you but he's just so vocal about it, saying your name or princess, doll, sweetheart like his life depended on it

(he's such a whore for you, especially when he goes down on you. you're gonna be feeling the vibrations of his groans bc omg is he obsessed with eating you out…but that's another story)

this is mostly because he also does not care who hears (same exceptions as ron). i imagine dick having to come talk to you all flustered, his face matching his hair and his eyes cast to the ground, asking you guys to keep it down

…nixon definitely didn't get any play for two weeks after that

despite being the #1 slut for you, he still manages to tease you, saying things like, “tell me how bad you want it.” (as if he doesn't want it just as bad)

joseph liebgott

he's probably the biggest pottymouth out of the five

anything he does is followed up by a hoarse “fuck, doll” or “shit, (y/n)”

he's trying to cover up the fact that he's a bit of a whiner/panter

he’ll kiss marks onto and around your breasts to muffle the sound of his moans

definitely says “yeah, you like that?” or “that feel good, baby?” during foreplay, smirking down at you while you’re begging for more (he's a little cocky with it)

becomes soft during and afterwards; he's scared to be vulnerable but he can't help telling you how pretty you look, how good you feel, and how much he loves you

will probably confess some of these things in german so he's not as vulnerable, but you still get the gist either way (and if you do understand german, he's screwed)

george luz

honestly he's just kind of unserious, like this man is giggling he's so happy to be with you (and his laughter and smile are infectious so now you're laughing too and telling him to shut up)

he’ll praise you with jokes, telling you you're prettier than any pinup model

“rita doesn't have anything on you, beautiful.” cue you rolling your eyes with a smile and telling him he’s cheesy

he's a little bit of a cusser too (especially when you play with his hair), not to the level of lieb though

“damn, (y/n), i'm lucky you're all mine.”

eventually the jokes and goofiness dissolve into him straight up telling you how good you feel around him and that you're especially gorgeous like this

+ him confessing his love for you when he's still catching his breath

“(y/n), have i ever told you how much i love you?”

“maybe 100 times today, george”

“oh so not enough then” you kiss him before he can remind you again

shifty powers

loves to praise you (and be praised honestly)

like he swears up and down that you're the most perfect girl alive

he can't believe that you're his and he's yours

kind of shy about his moans but he can't stop himself/hide them well enough because he moans at the slightest touch (he's so in love with you)

whimpers when you say he's making you feel good and “don't stop”

he's definitely asking if you're sure about anything and everything, reminding you that you don't have to go through with this if you don't absolutely want to

you just have to be like “darrell c. powers, please just take me” and lord will he oblige you with the brightest goddamn smile on his face

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe

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mads-nixon · 6 months

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Meine Liebe

Dick Winters x Translator!Reader

Masterlist

Request: @flowers-and-fichte Hey! Thanks for the Chuckler headcanons! They're so cute! I've got another request :) it's BoB-related this time. Winters with a reader who is fluent in German and teaches him to speak it. And then one day he surprises her by speaking it (wedding proposal, just starts talking in it out of nowhere, whatever) to her and it's so freaking cute. Thanks! Take your time :)

A/N: i loved this concept!! thanks for the request! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: none!

When (y/n) first signed up to be an intelligence translator for the Airborne, she had no idea what was in store for her. Jumping out of planes was expected, but what she couldn’t have expected was a red-headed man named Dick Winters. Nix introduced them in Aldbourne when she joined the company, and something about the Pennsylvanian struck her differently than the other men she’d met. Most eyed her warily, but the man she met that day flashed her a kind smile and a firm handshake, sending an unexpected warmth through her.

“So you’re our new interpreter,” he stated, his polite eyes never leaving hers as he shook her hand.

(Y/n) nodded, her lips quirking into a grin. “Yes, sir. (Y/n) (y/l/n).

“Dick Winters,” he replied, releasing her hand after a few moments. “Welcome to Easy. Please let me know if you need anything.”

Before she could respond, Nix called out to her. “We’ve gotta get to battalion, come on.”

With a final nod to Winters, she saluted and turned on her heel, walking over to Lew who was sitting in the driver's seat of a jeep. “So, you met Dick,” he announced, shifting the jeep into drive. “Whatcha think?”

(Y/n) scoffed lightly as she gazed at the rows and rows of tents that lined the airfield. “I only spoke like two sentences to him, Lew.”

Luckily, Lew and (y/n) grew up in neighboring towns in New Jersey and knew each other through mutual friends. Everyone knew the Nixons for their nitration plant that was in Edison, but (y/n) knew the Nixon boy as the teenager who took her best friend to the prom and got so drunk that he threw up on her beautiful blue dress. Betty still hadn’t gotten over it by the time (y/n) left for basic.

“No sparks flying yet?” he grinned, elbowing her shoulder playfully as he drove. “Give it time. I know it will.”

“What is wrong with you, Lewis?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “I just met the guy! And we’re going off to war for Pete's sake, not some low-crawling pub where men are lined up to dance with me.”

Her job was to decode and translate intercepted German communications, as well as translate in the field and interrogate prisoners if need be. There were times when being the daughter of Austrian immigrants was awful, but other times, it came in handy. Without her parents teaching her their language, she wouldn’t be in her position in the Army.

As the months passed in Aldbourne, (y/n) was swamped with intercepted communications, paperwork, and various intelligence reports. She rarely did anything other than work in her office, growing tiresome of the monotonous click-clack of the typewriter. What little time she did have outside the office was spent either visiting the Blue Boar with the other officers or quietly reading in the fields of wildflowers near her billet.

The sun set perfectly on the lilies and colorful harebells, orchids, and cornflowers that were scattered among the grass. Any chance she got, she’d go lay out a blanket and get lost in the pages of “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” escaping the war as the words came to life in her mind. Time seemed to blur as the months stretched on in Aldbourne.

With the follies of the Italian campaign, the Allies knew they had to try a different approach. Nixon and (y/n) had talked about the possible landing locations and tactics, but no plan was in motion quite yet. This did not stop them from preparing for the possibility. Easy’s training got increasingly realistic the further they got into 1944. By early February, Dick, Harry, and the other platoon leaders were brought in on the intelligence officers’ speculations. A few weeks later, (y/n) was working in her office when she heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, not looking up from her typewriter as she finished a translation.

The door creaked open, and in walked Dick who was wringing his hat between his hands, almost as if he was nervous. “Hi, (y/n). Sorry to disturb you.”

Hearing his voice, (y/n) looked up from the paper, a small smile forming as she took in his timid expression. “Hi, Dick. You’re not disturbing me,” she said, pointing to the large stack of papers on the corner of her desk. “These aren’t going anywhere.”

Dick clasped his hands behind his back and walked closer to the desk. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”

(Y/n) nodded, gesturing for him to sit in the extra chair beside her desk.

Dick sat down and continued. “Would you be able to teach me some basic German? I know that you are fluent in it, so-”

“Of course!” She interrupted, excitement lighting up her features. “I’d love to!”

Dick seemed surprised as he sheepishly smiled at her from across the desk. “It would be useful to know some phrases when we finally get into combat.”

“I think it’s a great idea.”

From that cold February day on, the pair met every Saturday night in (y/n)’s billet. Her host family, the Bennets, insisted on making a big family dinner every time (as large as they could with rationing), treating Dick as one of their own. (Y/n) watched from across the dining room table as he spoke to Mr. Bennet with a polite smile. The golden light from the setting sun filtered through the open blinds, highlighting the soft brown freckles that adorned his face. (Y/n) couldn’t help but admire his handsome features, a thought that she’d kept hidden mainly to keep Nix off her trail about the supposed ‘sparks’ that were supposed to fly between them at some point.

“I was worried about you Yanks, but if they’re all like you lot, I think we’re in good shape,” Mr. Bennet laughed, scooping a forkful of roast into his mouth.

Dick chuckled breathily, his eyes flitting to the (y/h/c) across from him, catching her staring red-handed. “Thank you, sir,” he replied, his face warming under her gaze.

After the dinner table was cleared, they continued their weekly tradition, sitting across from each other once again. “These are pretty basic, but they’re important,” she began, her eyes locking with his. Repeat after me. ‘Guten Abend.’”

Dick listened carefully, his eyes drifting down to her lips before echoing her pronunciation. “Guten Abend.”

“Very good,” (y/n) praised, her smile growing. “Now how about ‘Bitte’ which means ‘please,’ and ‘Danke,’ which means ‘thank you.’

“Next, let’s learn ‘Wie geht es Ihnen?” (y/n) said, her voice taking on a reassuring tone. “It means ‘How are you?’

As they repeated the words together, her beloved language created a unique connection between them that she never thought possible. It felt good to speak the language in situations other than wartime intelligence. As she taught Dick, she fell in love with her family’s native tongue all over again, but that love wasn’t the only thing blossoming in the cozy dining room.

Under the shade of a sturdy tree in the Bennet’s backyard, the late afternoon sun cast a glow over the yard. (Y/n) and Dick sat side by side, leaning against the trunk as they took a short break from their lesson.

(Y/n’s eyes began to droop, fatigue creeping in like a silent intruder. The lines of exhaustion were etched beneath her eyes, and Dick couldn’t help but notice her weariness.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, leaning closer to her, his brow furrowed in concern.

She sat up straighter, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” she admitted, her voice a soft murmur.

Dick turned to her with eyes filled with worry. “Up late doing translations?”

(Y/n) nodded, her shoulders sliming slightly. “Yes,” she sighed, leaning her head back against the hard tree bark. “We’re getting more and more communications every day. It’s hard to keep up.”

Seeing her struggle, Dick scooted closer to her and paused before gesturing to his lap. “Here,” he suggested, his tone gentle. “It’s more comfortable than a tree,”

A small, tired smile crossed (y/n)’s face as she responded with a weary, “Yes, sir,” She laid her head on his lap, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

Dick felt a warm, protective swell of emotion as she nestled into his lap. Her presence, despite her exhaustion, brought a sense of peace and contentment he hadn’t realized he was missing. He could always show up at her door and have dinner like there wasn’t a war going on. Their routine had developed into what he looked forward to the most as the week went on. Any conversations they managed to have during their daily regimens and workload were filled with smiles and talks of the upcoming weekend, Saturday’s dinner menu, and other little things that reminded him of home.

A soft pink tinge rose from Dick’s neck to his cheeks as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Better?” he inquired, his voice a soothing, gentle rumble.

(Y/n) let out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she whispered, “Yes, thank you, Dick. I needed this.”

He watched over her with a mix of concern and affection, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulder. “You’ll work yourself to death in that office, (y/n).”

She squinted one eye open, her gaze focused on him. “I know,” she replied quietly, her voice tinged with desperation, “I can’t rest knowing my family is still stuck there, Dick.”

The lieutenant’s eyes saddened, his heart aching at the raw pain in her voice. He moved his hand from her shoulder to rub her hair back gently. “In Austria?”

(Y/n) nodded, her voice hushed and heavy with emotion. “Yeah,” she murmured, blinking to combat the tears that were filling her eyes. “My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…they all stayed. They’re still there, and we haven’t heard from them in almost a year.”

“So you’re doing this for them.”

“For them and all the other innocent people whose lives have been torn apart by Hitler,” she confessed, her voice wavering.

A tear trickled down the side of her cheek, and she felt a warm hand wipe it away gently. “I’m sure they wouldn’t want you to run yourself into the ground, sweetheart,” Dick murmured softly, the term of endearment slipping out before he could stop it. “When we finally do see action, you won’t be a hundred percent if you’re constantly running on fumes.”

She let out a shuddering breath, her emotions overwhelming her. (Y/n) sat up, shifting to bury her face into Dick’s shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. His arms encircled her, pulling her into his side as he rubbed his hand soothingly along her back.

“Please take care of yourself. If not for them, do it for me. Please,” he whispered into her hair.

As the evening sun bathed them in a warm light, (y/n) pulled back from their embrace, her tear-filled eyes glistening with gratitude and adoration. She gazed into Dick’s calming, emerald-green eyes, vulnerability seeping from her. His eyes mirrored her intensity, and a soft, affectionate smile played on his lips. With her heart pounding in her chest, (y/n) brought her hand up to his cheek, her fingers tracing the contours of his skin with a gentle, trembling touch.

Their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, a powerful connection was forged. Slowly and with a sense of natural ease, she pulled him closer, guiding him toward her. Dick, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected tenderness of her actions, felt the soft, deliberate pressure of (y/n)’s lips against his. Their lips met, and their connection deepened as their mouths moved together, a tender and affectionate expression of their feelings. Their kiss was a gentle exchange of affection, an unspoken testament to the emotions that had quietly grown between them.

As (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their tender kiss, their actions spoke volumes in the quiet of that moment. Their lips slowly parted, the sensation of their kiss still lingering in the air like a sweet, unspoken promise. They looked into each other’s eyes, their gazes locked in a lingering connection that was filled with understanding. (Y/n) inched back slightly, her touch soft and tender as her fingers gently brushed over the freckles on Dick’s cheek as she withdrew from their intimate embrace.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice a gentle murmur, sniffling slightly as she rested her forehead against his. Dick’s heart raced, and he could feel her warm breath on his face.

“They’ll be proud of you. I’m sure of it.”

MAY 7, 1944: BERCHTESGADEN, AUSTRIA

(Y/n) reclined on a wooden, sun-soaked deck chair, gazing out at the breathtaking landscape of the Bavarian Alps that stretched before her. The mountains stood tall and majestic, their peaks kissing the cloudless sky. She felt a sense of awe at the natural wonder surrounding her.

Harry sat at the end of her chair, and Ron and Nix were sitting on the one beside them, all three drunk as a skunk. Their voices filled the air with drunken excitement, and their ramblings brought a wide smile to (y/n)’s face.

Nix groaned in good-humored frustration, raising his fingers in a futile attempt to count off the main leaders of the Nazi party. “Hitler, Hitler…no.”

Rolling his eyes, Ron chimed in, his voice louder as they spoke over each other, creating a chaotic atmosphere. “Hitler, Himmler, Goering-”

“And Goebbels,” Harry finished, his grin infectious as he completed the list.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh heartily, tears gathering in her eyes as she watched her friends stumble through their banter. The joy of the moment, the beauty of the scenery, and the relief from no constant action and danger all combined to create a warmth in her heart that was impossible to contain.

“I’m so glad I get to see this,” she wheezed between fits of laughter, her hand clutching her stomach as another wave of cackles escaped her.

The sound of footsteps made her turn, and she saw Dick approaching with Lip. She smiled at him, her heart beating slightly faster when he returned a wink.

“Hey, Adolf! Love your Eagle’s Nest,” Harry yelled, standing up wobbly and grabbing Dick’s shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind. We made ourselves at home. Love what you’ve done with the place here.”

(Y/n) chortled again, earning an amused look from Dick, who found the whole situation hilarious. But he had more important news to share.

Welsh grabbed a bottle of champagne and held it out for the major. “Hey, have a drink. Come on. Just so we can say we saw you do it,” he implored, staring for a moment as Dick didn’t respond.

Smirking, (y/n) rose from her chair and gracefully pushed the bottle back toward Harry as she moved to stand between him and Dick. “You drink it, Welshy.”

Welsh retracted his hand, standing there for a moment like a pouting child, while Dick, who had patiently waited, pulled out a sheet of paper. He cleared his throat and started to speak, his gaze warm as he looked down at (y/n) beside him. “Listen up. From Corps, it just came in. Effective immediately, all troops standing fast on present positions.”

Nix rested his hands behind his head as he lay on the chair with a smirk. “Standing fast.”

Ron, his usually sharp eyes now glazed over from the alcohol, looked up and asked. “What does that mean?”

(Y/n) ran a hand down her face with a giggle. Her laughter was infectious, and the group chuckled, with Dick’s laughter being the loudest. His smile was the widest she’d seen in months, and the sight stirred something within her.

“Do you want to hear it?” he asked the group as he wrapped an arm around (y/n)’s shoulder.

Harry nodded, grunting in reply, and Dick repeated the sound, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Are you ready for it? Listen up, the German Army surrendered.”

The news sent a sudden hush through the group, and the jovial atmosphere vanished, replaced by a solemn and reverent feeling that settled inside each of them. (Y/n) looked up at Dick, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Really?” she whispered, her voice filled with hope.

Dick nodded and squeezed her shoulder softly. “Yeah, sweetheart. They did.”

In that instant, she couldn’t contain her joy. She flung her arms around his shoulders, squealing happily, and he snaked his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. The weight of the past years seemed to lift, replaced by a hope of peace in Europe for people like her family who were caught in the crossfire of war. As they pulled back from their hug, the sheer happiness of the moment made (y/n)’s eyes glisten with tears. Around them, the other officers were clapping each other on the back and expressing their own gratitude that victory in Europe had been achieved.

With a soft smile, Dick placed a hand on her lower back and led her to a farther part of the balcony, giving them privacy from prying eyes. He could see the curiosity in her eyes and as they found a quiet corner, he spoke in a hushed tone. “I got word today, (y/n). About your family.”

Her eyes widened in anticipation, and her heart raced. “My family? Where are they? She asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear.

Dick placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering her the support she needed to hear the news. “They’re alive, (y/n). They’re living in Salzburg.”

The emotion she’d swallowed down came flying back, and tears welled up in her eyes again as her voice trembled with relief. “Salzburg? Oh, thank God,” she croaked.

(Y/n) couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer, and the tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her arms around Dick, hugging him tightly once again. It was a cry of pure relief, a release of tension that had gripped her heart for so long.

Dick held her close, his own emotions stirred by the moment. He could feel her relief, his arms wrapped around her as he gently stroked her back. The news also meant that they were one step closer to going home. One step closer to spending the rest of their lives together.

In the midst of the moment, (y/n) looked up at Dick, a radiant smile breaking through her tears. Her soft voice was barely more than a whisper as she spoke. “I love you, Dick.”

Their eyes locked in a tender, unspoken understanding as Dick leaned down to cup her cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. “I love you, too, (y/n).”

The mountains of Berchtesgaden stood as silent witnesses to what was about to transpire. It was the perfect setting for a moment they would cherish forever. As they stood there, Dick took (y/n)’s hand in his, his gaze unwavering as he looked deep into her eyes. With a smile, he began to speak…but it wasn’t English.

“Meine Liebe, du weißt, ich bin nicht der Beste im Umgang mit Worten, aber ich liebe dich mehr als das Leben selbst. Ohne dich hätte ich das nicht überstanden und ich möchte nie wieder ohne dich sein,” he began, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

My love, you know I'm not the best with words, but I love you more than I love life itself. I wouldn't have gotten through this without you, and I don’t want to be without you ever again.

(Y/n) looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise and joy. She blinked in disbelief, her heart skipping a beat.

“Willst du meine Frau werden?” Dick continued.

Will you marry me?

A gasp escaped (y/n)’s lips as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe what was happening, and her heart swelled. Dick got down on one knee, his eyes filled with a softer determination than the one she saw in his eyes on the battlefield. He reached into his OD pocket and pulled out a small, elegant ring.

In a voice filled with emotion, he asked, “Möchtest du mein leben mit mir teilen?”

Will you share your life with me?

Tears streamed down (y/n)’s face as she nodded vigorously, unable to speak through her overwhelming joy. She held out her hand, and Dick slid the ring over her finger. It fit perfectly, just as they did in each other's lives.

With a smile that held all the love in the world, he whispered, “Ich liebe dich.”

I love you.

With the golden rays of the setting sun casting a warm, enchanting glow on the balcony, Dick stood up from one knee and pulled (y/n) into a gentle, affectionate embrace. The light from the setting sun illuminated their features, turning their silhouettes into a work of art against the breathtaking backdrop. Their kiss was tender and sweet, filled with the promise of a future together.

Their actions were delicate and filled with longing. Dick’s arms enveloped (y/n) as he kissed her, his fingers brushing softly against her cheek, and (y/n) responded with more fervor, deepening the kiss. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers clutching his uniform as if grounding herself in the reality of the moment. The hand on her cheek threaded into her hair and pulled her impossibly closer.

With huge smiles on their faces, (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their kiss. The moment was perfect. However, their intimate moment was suddenly interrupted by a chorus of whistles and cheers coming from the adjacent balcony. Ron, Harry, Lip, and Nix watched on as the couple got engaged. They exchanged glances and held hands as they made their way toward the cheering men.

Nix hugged Dick and slapped him on the back, his expression a mix of humor and satisfaction. “Now if I remember correctly, some wise guy called this the first time you two met…oh wait, that was me.”

Dick’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he turned to his fiance for clarification. “What?”

Rolling her eyes playfully, (y/n) leaned into his side, patting his chest lightly. “Back in Aldbourne, Lew just thought that, and I quote, ‘sparks would fly’ between the two of us.

“Well, I’m so glad they did,” Harry laughed, holding up a wad of cash in front of him. “I’m a rich man now.”

The major blinked at Harry, his amusement evident. “How am I not surprised you bet on us?”

“You think that’s all we bet on?” Ron slurred, sprawled out on a chair with his eyes closed. “We also bet on when-”

Thankfully, Lip stepped in to stop the Captain, who appeared to be thoroughly drunk. “Alright. Let’s get you to bed, sir.”

(Y/n) grinned, admiring Dick’s features above her. “Where did you learn all of that?” she asked. “Because I’ve never taught you anything that complex.”

“A man never tells his secrets,” he replied, kissing her temple lovingly.

“It was Liebgott, wasn’t it,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. “Cause only Joe knows that much German other than me.”

“Well,” Dick began, “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

“Oh really, Major Winters. Care to enlighten me?”

He sighed, “Nope. I’ve been practicing that for months. It’s all I’ve got.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got the best teacher by your side for the rest of your life, huh?”

Tag List: @liptonsbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @flowers-and-fichte @merriell-allesandro-shelton @ronsparky

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag!

#band of brothers #hbo war #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #dick winters #band of brothers imagines #easy company #dick winters x reader #dick winters fluff #dick winters imagine #dick winters imagines #band of brothers easy company #easy company imagine #easy company x reader #bob #hbowar x reader #hbowar #hbo war x reader

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dcyllom · 7 months

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everytime a band of brothers fic is posted or updated you can hear me somewhere in the distance rubbing my hands together like a little conniving fly

#band of brothers #fanfic #band of brothers fanfic #easy company #lewis nixon #ron speirs #richard winters #carwood lipton #george luz #donald malarkey #joe toye #bill guarnere #buck compton #floyd talbert

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1waveshortofashipwreck · 3 months

Note

heyyy love ur stuff btw! Could you maybe do hc’s of how our boys when someone is being mean to the reader? Thanks ;)) Maybe like a modern AU? Or any AU you’d prefer, thank you!

Aaaaaaaa thank you for the ask friend!! I love this idea!!! So I pictured this in a Modern!AU where the pair is at a coffee shop waiting on their order. The Boy puts his arm around them and the person next to them just sneers and goes “Can y’all get a room? Or at least be with someone nice to look at?” OBVIOUSLY referring to y/n with just a palpable amount of spite and venom.

Dick Winters

I see him just hugging you tighter and maybe turning his back to the guy, like, if he's gonna be an ass about Dick's favorite person he doesn't deserve the time of day. He'd say something so sweet too like, “if you think anyone could be more beautiful than them, you need to get your eyes checked,” before planting a kiss on your cheek and grabbing your drinks.

Lewis Nixon

I can see him definitely getting irritated but also seeming kinda baffled? Like I can see him just saying something like, “Are you serious right now? You see how gorgeous they are, right? Who hurt you, man?” Like he’d be so genuine about it too, even scoffing and shaking his head while y’all walk out with your drinks - like, how tf can someone say that about the most perfect human on earth???

Ron Speirs

I have a strong feeling that the guy’s words leave his mouth before he saw Ron, because I just imagine the dude being Christianson in Bastogne, like, he see’s Speirs’ face and just feels as though he has Met His End. So all Speirs does is put his arm around you and say, “you wanna try that again?” the guy just stutters and replies, “you make a lovely couple,” before scurrying away. I can soooo see Ron just having a smug smile on his face before giving you a kiss.

Harry Welsh

Ok so considering this man got demoted from sergeant to private three (3) different times due to getting in fights I have a feeling he would just be like “OH ITS THAT KINDA PARTY HUH? YOU WANNA TRY SAYING THAT AGAIN ASSHOLE??” Like this dude could be twice Harry’s size but your Boy can and will throw hands to defend you and he’s not afraid to get hurt while doing it. 10/10 needs you to help with his bruised knuckles after but he apologizes and y’all enjoy your drinks (specifically savoring it because y’all got banned from the coffee shop).

Eugene Roe

I feel like this could go two ways - A) he tells the guy off (“why don’t you mind your business asshole”), holds you close to him, and grabs your drinks without saying a word, or B) he grabs you by the waist and just goes to town trying to merge your mouths into one. This man would just do everything in his power to put on display his love and passion for you. Soon enough the dude will get weirded out and leave, but not before Doc performs award-winning CPR.

Bill Guarnere

Oh boy we got Party Boy #2 over here. “Why don’t you shut ya yap before I shut it for ya?” Your mans would square up to the dude no questions asked. If the dude steps down, Bill would just say, “yeah, that’s what I thought,” before proudly putting his arm around you. If the dude makes a poor decision and steps up to Guarnere… next thing you know poor Bill is apologizing to you while you hold his cold brew up to his black eye to keep the swelling down… the dude apologized though! All thanks to Ol’ Gonorrhea.

Joe Toye

I feel like his reaction is betwixt Guarnere and Nixon. Like, for one thing, he’s genuinely confused. He just gives the dude his classic Eyebrows before pulling you close to him. At first he won’t say anything, but if the dude keeps going he’ll just say to him in a low voice, “you looking for a fight pal?” Honestly that would be enough to scare the dude away while Joe just hugs you tight and kisses your temple before the barista calls your names.

George Luz

This boy would twist the dude’s words perfectly. “Oh you’re absolutely right, they could get someone WAY hotter than me!” before smirking over at you. You can’t help but give George a playful smack on the chest before laughing with him and laying your head on his shoulder… then he’d totally just look at you and think “how’d I get so lucky???” we love a silly soft boi

Joe Liebgott

Fighty Boy #3 and you can’t tell me otherwise. It’d be similar to Guarnere on the ship - he’d have to make sure he heard the dude right at first… “What’d you just say?” like you can feel his angy levels rising by the second. The dude just goes, “you heard me,” and before anyone can even blink the dude is knocked out on the ground, like, the swifest punch known to man and it came from your boyfriend (kinda hot ngl) and you just give him a Look before he smirks and kisses the air from your lungs and… why were you mad at him again? And why are you getting thrown out of the cafe???

Floyd Talbert

Ok so remember how Roe gave you life-saving CPR? Tab’s first instinct is life-taking CPR, like, this man just glares at the dude before pulling you close by your waist (and maybe a hand on your ass because its Tab) and just going to TOWN on your lips, neck, wherever he can reach just to show the idiot dude how in love with you he is and how stupid he was to make that comment… of course instinctively your hands to Tab’s hair and y’all just get Lost in the Sauce and when the barista calls y’all’s names you don’t even hear them.

Shifty Powers

Asdf sweet baby angel would just hold you close and whisper to you, “I’m sorry you had to hear that, you don’t believe him right?” Just keeping all his attention on you and hugging you close with both arms just lovingly wrapped around you, both of y’all forget everything else exists and you just happily hold each other for a bit before you get your drinks (this is all unless shifty has his rifle then the dude’s Time Has Come courtesy of Darrell C. Powers).

ngl this might've been the most fun I've had writing something 🤣 Thank you again for the ask love!! Hope you have a wonderful day!

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footprintsinthesxnd · 4 months

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The Angel of Easy

Mads!! I was so excited when Réka messaged me to be your Secret Santa pinch hitter. So here is a special little Nixon fic for my favourite fellow Lewis fangirl.

Being one of the few female intelligence officers in the 101st was always going to be a slightly different experience. Despite her training as an SOE and working at Bletchley Circle nothing prepared her to be thrown into a company of men who drank, swore and fought like dogs but formed a group far stronger than any family could ever be. One of the men she warmed most to was Lewis Nixon. His endless sarcasm and witty humour had cemented him in Y/n’s heart and it didn’t take long for them to become firm friends and then something more.

“Do you have to go on that patrol? Can’t you just stay here with me?” Lewis whined, his head still buried under the bed covers as his near-naked frame lay sprawled across the bed.

Y/n laughed, lacing up her lump boots as the grown man rolled over to face her, his blurry eyes and sleepy smile tugging on her heartstrings and if she looked at him any longer she would climb right back into bed with him.

“You know I have to go. This is finally my chance to truly prove myself,” she retorted, this would be her first time on a patrol without Lewis and she intended to gain the respect of her fellow paratroopers.

“You’ve already proven yourself to me in many ways,” Lewis wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Y/n sighed, hitting him with the nearest pillow.

“I have to go, I’ll see you later. I love you,” Y/n called as the door slammed shut behind her.

“Love you too,” Lewis mumbled into the pillow, his mind drifting back into his sleepy state when he sat upright. Had she just said what he thought she had? And had he replied with the same answer?

“You know Lieutenant, you’re not that bad after all,” Johnny Martin, nodded at her and she smiled in return. Johnny was a hard man to win over so this was the biggest compliment he could have given.

“Yeah, you’re alright Little Lady,” Bull chimed in, patting her on the back with his large hand.

“Well thanks, guys, I knew you’d like me eventually.”

The group continued to laugh as they followed the path back towards their camp when a loud crack from beside them caused them all to hit the deck. “FLASH?” Johnny shouted, his weapon raised. “Flash? Or we fire.” Was followed by a burst of machine gun fire. The firing above Y/n head caused her to freeze, she’d been through basic training just like the rest of them, she’d fired her weapon and she carried her M1 with her now, but something inside her would allow her to move. Her limbs lay frozen against the wet, muddy soil, her head pressed to the ground.

“Y/L/N GET UP!” Johnny grabbed her collar and shoved her against the nearest tree. “Y/l/n, you used that goddamn gun of yours. I don’t care if you are a Lieutenant or a fucking Major. I’m not losing any of my men because of you.” Johnny's voice was harsh, his usual snarl mixed with a desperation for her to follow his instructions.

Y/n nodded quickly, raising her M1 and firing around the edge of the tree. Johnny seemed satisfied with this and continued his way along the line to check in with the rest of his men. Y/n continued to fire, round after round, clip after clip, with only the image of Lewis in her mind to keep her grounded.

“I’m out of ammo,” she called down the line but the others were too preoccupied to hear her above the firing. Y/n did something she never thought she would do, she got up and ran. Time stood still as her legs carried her from behind the cover of her tree to the next tree, bullets whizzing past her.

“You alright Luz?” She asked, sliding down next to George who was trying to call through to Winters on his radio. George nodded to her and she grabbed his ammunition, loaded her weapon and started firing again.

The noise was deafening, nothing like practising on the ranges back at Toccoa.

“Y/L/N!” Johnny called, waving at her from the next tree down. “There’s a whole goddamn Panzer division coming from the south. We’ve gotta get outta here.”

Y/n nodded, motioning for him and the other men to head for cover further back from the line as she continued to fire. Johnny and Bull appeared by her side soon after.

“The others have retreated. I think we’ve hit their line. What’s your orders, Lieutenant? Johnny, Bull and George looked at her expectantly and Y/n felt the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“We hold them off for as long as we can, at least we can give the others a chance to pull back.” The men nodded at her, seemingly approving of her reply.

George continued to keep Winters and the battalion in the loop while the others continued to fire upon the inbound Panzer division. Mortar fire from Malarkey’s mortar squad littered the tree line in front of them and sporadic machine gun fire came in response.

“Winters says to pull back. The air force is bringing in air cover,” George shouted over the firing.

“Cease fire,” Y/n called, motioning for Johnny to head back first while supplying covering fire, then Bull and then George.

“What about you Lieutenant?” George asked, hiking his radio onto his back.

“I’ll be right behind you George, okay?” George nodded, keeping his head down and sprinting towards the cover of the tree line.

Now that she was alone Y/n wondered how she was meant to get herself out of this situation and without covering fire she was a sitting duck. They would have had her firing zeroed by now and mortars would surely start firing soon.

“Well, it’s not or never,” Y/n threw herself out from behind the tree, firing towards the German line as she retreated. Once the clip was empty she slung the weapon onto her back and turned tail, running towards George who was waving frantically at her.

“Y/N COME ON!” He screamed, grabbing her hand as she collapsed into him. “Christ Lieutenant, you’ve got a death wish,” he laughed, helping her up. Johnny nodded at her and Bull gave her his signature smile until their faces fell.

“Hey, what’s all the long faces for?” She laughed, “We just got out of there alive didn’t we?”

“Umm Y/n you might wanna sit down,” George caught her as her knees buckled beneath her. Johnny and Bull quickly moved in to help. Johnny pulled his aid kit out of his pocket, pressing a bandage firmly to the pool of blood at her side, before helping to lift her into Bull’s arms.

“Stay with us Little Lady,” Bull whispered as her heavy eyelids slid closed.

“You know what they say, Dick,” Lewis sighed, rubbing his hand over his stubbly chin.

“What do they say, Lew?” Dick stretched his arms above his head, as he sat in the armchair beside him.

“Well sometimes, no matter how much you want it, some stories just don’t get a happy ending,” Lewis choked, the tears freely rolling down his cheeks again. He had cried so much in the last twenty-four hours that he wasn’t sure how he had any tears left to cry.

“She’ll pull through, Nix. She’s strong and she knows you are waiting for her. She’ll make it.” Dick patted Lewis on the back, raising from his chair and leaving Lewis to sit in his uncomfortable silence once more.

“Lewis?” Her voice was weak, her breaths shallow but her bright eyes watched him intently as he raised his weary head.

“Y/n? By God you’re awake. Oh thank God,” Lewis flung his arms around her neck, burying his head into her neck and crushing the air from her lungs. “Careful Lew, I’m a little sore,” Y/n whined, pushing Lewis gently to which he jumped away.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. Are you alright?” Lewis sat back down in the armchair, his hand clutching desperately at hers.

“I’m a little sore,” she admitted, wincing as she tried to move.

Lewis jumped up again, “do you need me to get, Roe? Do you need some morphine?” Lewis' eyes were wild, searching her face for the unspoken answer.

“No. No, I'm alright. Just sore,” Y/n reassured him, reaching for his hand which Lewis took instantly.

“I was so worried I’d lost you,” Lewis admitted, his eyes full of tears but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, too afraid that he’d blink and she’d be gone.

“I’m sorry I worried you, Lew. It was all going so well. I think I proved myself to them.”

Lewis chuckled, leaning forward to brush the hair that had fallen upon her face, “You, my love certainly did prove yourself. You are all the men of Easy can talk about. Hell, you’re the ‘Angel of Easy Company.”

Y/n laughed, “Well that’s something I suppose.”

“Just next time, maybe don’t get yourself killed over it alright? I don’t think I could go through that again,” Lewis looked at her poignantly and Y/n just smiled. Her fingers reached up, brushing her fingers over Lew’s cheek, cupping it gently.

“I promise, Lew. I won’t do it again but if I do at least I know I have you to come back to.”

Dick smiled from his spot in the doorway, he’d had a message from Colonel Sink but he couldn’t bear to interrupt this precious moment. Just for those few minutes, his friends were happy and that was all Dick could ask for.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @malarkgirlypop @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @supervalcsi

#lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon #band of brothers #band of brothers easy company #easy company #band of brothers fanfic #secret santa 2023 #hbowarsanta23

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iceman-kazansky · 4 months

Text

Two Halves of a Heartbeat, Beating as One

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Merry Christmas @currahee! I'm your secret Santa!

Request: a character who assumes they won't get a gift for Christmas, only to be pleasantly surprised.

Pairings: Ronald Speirs x f!reader

Warnings: Death, depression, probably swearing, kissing

A/n: Hey! I've never seen your account prior to this, so I'm glad to have you as my designated Secret Santa gift receiver!! I hope this is tailored to your liking, and I hope you like this! Merry Christmas and happy new year! :)

Taglist: @inglourious-imagines || (If you'd like to join my taglist; submit a form here!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

The days slowly melted past one by one, very scarce new events occurring. Every day was a repeat of the one before. Countless shelling from the artillery located just across the clearing. The never ending supply of dead soldiers soaring as morale stooped to an all time low.

Everyone was on the verge of their breaking point.

Through the harshness of Sobel in Toccoa, all the way to Holland, the 506th had been through so much death and destruction yet had remained steadfast throughout it all.

But now, in the company's arguably darkest time, the regiment became ever-fragile. The exhausted soldiers couldn't handle any more of this.

False promises of the war ending before Christmas had become what kept the 506th going, but as the day ticked closer and closer that hope began to dwindle.

Everyone, no matter the transparency each individual experienced as the thought dawned on them, knew they weren't going home for the holiday. They never were.

Dragging yourself from those wretched thoughts, you exhale softly, your breath creating a thick fog that rises and dissipates nearly as fast as it first appeared in the cold afternoon air. Even now, where all you could focus on was the numbness of your fingers, the air held a certain briskness to it that made your throat and nostrils burn when you inhaled.

‘Now is not the time for such dark thoughts’ you think to yourself, shaking your head as if to knock some sense into yourself.

Those thoughts, the one that let reality set in a little too far, were killers. Even just a mere drop in a soldier's ability to keep strong mentally on the frontlines ultimately affected their physical well-being aswell. In a time as dire as war, a drop in strength translated directly to a meaningless death.

In the distance, you could hear the crunching of feet on snow growing increasingly closer.

“Sergeant,” The voice is firm, yet recognizable. You glance up at the mysterious figure who approaches, once again ripped from the storm of endless thoughts brewing within your very mind.

Ronald Speirs.

You instantly recognize Dog companies CO. An intimidating man surrounded by rumors he'd never bothered to confirm nor deny. Yet, a handsome man. His face is one of chiseled beauty, like a Greek god. Something you'd been sure to notice over your countless interactions. Since you'd known him, Speirs had treated you equally despite being the only female in the 506th. Something you admired.

Ever since your first weeks at Toccoa, you’d taken a special interest in Speirs, and naturally you’d gotten a lot closer.

Speirs isn't one to dawdle, so he gets right to the point, “Sergeant, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead,” you reply through chattering teeth, sore from clenching them closed so often.

"What are your plans for Christmas this year, if we go back to the states?"

Even in the cold, you can feel your cheeks flushing red. He wants to know what you're christmas plans are?

Not answering immediately, letting the words sink in as you formulate a response, “You don't seriously believe that?" You chuckle dryly at last, "I thought of all people you'd be the most sensible."

"No, I don't," he replies after a moment of silence, "but everyone at least has some plans this holiday. A hope. I wanted to know what yours was." You could've sworn you'd seen him shift his gaze away momentarily, but his face was shadowed by his bulky helmet, obscuring your vision of his beautiful face.

"That everyone wouldn't be me, then," you avert your attention momentarily to his lips, but shake your head in disgust at yourself, what were you looking at? He was your superior! "What about you, captain? Any plans yourself?"

"I was going to visit family if we went back. But, seeing as that isn't happening anytime soon, I thought I'd settle on a gift for someone here." He responds.

“Who would that lucky person be?” You ask, curious who the CO might be referring to. You think back to the town of Bastogne, the town a few klicks away, and all the people for him to choose from.

“I'm still not sure.” he shrugs, standing abruptly and moving away silently, leaving you puzzled and alone.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Christmas day had arrived grimly, the promise of being home by this day long forgotten and farfetched.

The Germans on the other side of the clearing were fortunately nice enough to halt the bombing for the day, leaving the front lines oddly quiet for the first time in weeks.

Despite this, morale wasn't very high. Nobody in the 506th wanted to be in the frozen-hell they were right then.

Standing and unable to withstand the boredom of your foxhole any longer you left to relieve yourself momentarily.

Upon standing, your limbs ached, stiff and sore from the cramped position you'd stayed in for multiple hours, and your feet numb while you stumbled the first few steps. You remembered Doc Roe's countless warnings to the 506th about trench foot. Something you wanted to be certain you wouldn't catch. Perhaps you should invest more time in moving about.

It didn't take long to finish your business, and you figured you ought to head back to the safety of your foxhole soon. Afterall, you never knew when the next shelling would occur, the Germans were unpredictable. You wouldn't doubt they'd go beyond cruelty and bomb the 506th on a day like today. And that was something you absolutely didn't want to be out of your foxhole for. You'd seen the destruction left in their wake countless times.

Your feet crunching loudly in the fresh snow was all you could think of as you retraced your steps back to the front lines. Along the way you passed a few E company members, smiling a little at them and wishing them a short ‘Merry Christmas’ as you trudged past.

Ahead, your empty foxhole beckoned and as you drew near your excitement at the small warmth it provided grew rapidly. You prepare to jump in, but pause at the sight of a small cardboard box nestled at the bottom. The peanut-coloured box appeared as vibrant as blood in the dull white and gray surroundings.

Jumping into your hole, you're careful not to crush the delicate box while you move into a sitting position, pulling it into your lap.

Curiosity consumes you as you open it carefully, revealing a small silver object, a thin wool blanket and a pristine white letter.,

Taking the necklace out you raise it to your face for examination. The pendant was long, and had a natural shimmering silver allure to it. At one end, a small, smooth heart was suspended by the lengthy yet elegant chain. It was beautiful. You gasped as you moved it around in your palm, a large smile pulling at your lips.

Carefully, you fastened the necklace around your neck, looking down to admire it settled against your collarbone once more. Not wasting any more time, you moved onto the next object. An army-issued blanket. Something the company should've been guaranteed before it came to Bastogne, but was never supplied. You took it out, taking care not to lose the letter you had yet to open. How did your mystery sender manage to get their hands on this? However they did it must've been tough, they were in demand everywhere. The material was wool, and you could almost imagine the warmth it provided.

After a short examination of the blanket you were eager to move to the last object, a letter. Grabbing the object and letting your fingers run over the grainy surface momentarily before pulling open the seal to reveal the neatly-folded contents.

Unfolding the letter you're stunned at the lack of words, but regardless begin reading;

Dear Sergeant,

I hope you enjoy these gifts. Merry Christmas.

Signed, Ronald C. Speirs.

Speirs got you these? Hardly containing your smile, you close the letter once more, slipping it into your pocket and getting out of your foxhole, leaving the blanket and box behind.

It took every ounce of strength you had to not run as fast as you could to his assigned tent, instead maintaining a brisk walk. However, something you couldn’t contain was the dopey smile that tugged itself onto your face as you moved, your heart pounding in your chest and your face flushed a bright scarlet.

As you drew near, your pace quickened ever so slightly, your mind urging you to move faster than your legs would allow. You were itching at the prospect of seeing him. Finally reaching the sepia coloured tent, it’s walls faded and worn from the harsh uses it had endured throughout the war, you say “Permission to enter, sir?” from the other side of the tent wall.

His husky voice answers from within the tent, allowing you entry immediately after your request. Without further ado, you step in, blinking to readjust your eyes. In the shadowed room, you make eye contact with Speirs. “I wanted to thank you for the gifts, sir.” You say, not quite sure how to properly thank him.

“Please, just call me Ron,” he corrects, smiling softly at you. A sight so beautiful and rare you can't help but stare in awe. He stands when you enter, maneuvering out from behind his desk.

“Then call me Y/n,” you counter, mirroring his smile.

After a moments pause where nothing is said, you resume, “Ron, do you mind me asking why?” You say hesitantly, unfamiliar with the use of his true name, seeming like all formalities were tossed aside, “Why me?”

He looked at you with an odd unnamed emotion, yet so familiar. It seems like a millenia passes before he replies, “I have admired you since we've met, Y/n.” He pauses to allow the words to sink in, watching your expression closely, “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I've always been set on you. You drive me crazy. When you step into a room, you're all I can look at. Everything else is irrelevant. When you talk, your voice echoes in my ears all day like a mothers lullaby.

“I've never wanted another woman so badly as i've wanted you before. I didn't care for the dames of Eindhoven like most men. I wanted you. And only you. I've come to the realization I love you, and I couldn't wait another day for you to carry on, not knowing.” he stops to drink in your features before he allows himself to continue, “It's alright if you don't feel the same. I know how terrible the timing is. I can't believe I allowed myself to become so vulnerable in a state of war.”

Without missing a beat you reply, “I feel the same.”

Truthfully, you can hardly believe your ears. It's like a dream come true. You'd loved Ron since he'd done that daring act with Dog Company and the batteries, and you swear you could've felt your own heart stop when he leaped out of that trench and ran, exposed, into the battery, guns blazing. You'd heard the rumors about him too, but they didn't scare you. In fact, they almost drew you in closer, with hopes of unravelling them yourself.

Without even noticing it, you and Ron had begun moving closer to each other, pulled by some other-worldly gravitational force. Drawn to each other like a moth to flame.

When he was within reach, he lifted up his hand, cupping your cheek while the gap grew smaller yet, your faces hovering inches from each other, “Can I kiss you?” he asks, eyes flitting down to your lips only to return once more to your eyes.

You couldn't speak, only administering a nod before he closed the gap.

His lips tasted of lucky strikes, something you wouldn't have thought to expect at first, and they pressed against yours passionately, releasing his inner tension. Your lips moved against his in a synchronized dance, two lovers moving against each other like twin moons in the sky, orbiting the same center. Like two halves of a heartbeat, beating as one.

Reluctantly, he pulled away breathless, resting his forehead against yours.

“I've never wanted more than to kiss you,” he sighs, “I love you.”

“I love you more, Ronnie,” You whisper back

#hbowarsanta23 #ronald speirs x f!reader #ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs #dog company #band of brothers #hbo war #bob #easy company #iceman-kazansky #fanfic #band of brothers fic #bob fic #bob fanfic #band of brothers fanfic

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mads-weasley · 7 months

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Epiphany Pt. 9: Lover

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Inspo: Lover (First Dance Version): Taylor Swift

A/N: the awaited chapter is here!!! i hope y'all enjoy! this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 5k

Summary: As (y/n) and Lew explore Paris, the city itself seems to push them together, and the city of love brings them together atop the Eiffel Tower in a beautiful culmination of the past few years.

(Y/n) woke up with the sun, its gentle rays filtering through her room’s curtains, casting a warm, golden hue on everything it touched. She let out a soft, tired yawn and gracefully extended her limbs, feeling a slight twinge as the mended muscles in her side protested at the movement. The wound, though healed, still sent stabs of discomfort whenever she exerted herself or took a breath too deeply.

A sigh escaped her, and she glanced at the clock by her bedside: 8:34 AM. Then, a wide, contented smile curved her lips as the memories of the incredible night spent with Lew danced in her mind. The magical evening had brought them even closer, and the potential of the day ahead filled her with excitement.

Throwing back the covers, she carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed, her heart already beating a little faster in anticipation. Clad in her PT shirt and shorts, she tiptoed to the hallway, steps light with excitement. As (y/n) knocked on Lew’s door, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjá vu. The last time she stood there, it was with a different kind of worry; a deep-rooted concern for his well-being. But today, it was all about the anticipation of the day ahead.

Expecting to find Nix either still asleep or in the process of waking up, she was surprised when he opened the door, fully dressed and ready for the day. She raised a brow in suspicion at the unexpected sight.

“Good morning,” he chirped, his gaze subtly trailing down her body to her bare legs before he seemed to catch himself, letting her in his room. It was almost an identical match to hers, right down to the less-than-appealing bright orange bedspread. She playfully plopped down on the mostly made-up bed.

“Where are you headed off to? I didn’t even think you’d be up,” she remarked, curiosity lacing her words.

Leaning against the closed door, he rolled his eyes, a light blush gracing his cheeks “Well, I have a big day planned for us, so we need to get an early start.”

(Y/n) looked at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement, her eyes narrowing. “Who are you, and what have you done with Lewis Nixon?”

He chuckled, moved closer to her and took her hand, leading her toward the door. “Go get ready and I’ll come get you in an hour.”

“What have you got planned, Lew?” She asked, a sense of anticipation building within her. Opening her door, she leaned against its frame. “Please tell me,” she begged, peeing up into his soft browns.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, (y/n/n),” he grinned mischievously. “Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”

Sighing with a fake pout, she entered her room, giving him a wary look.

”Go on,” Lew retorted, playfully gesturing for her to shut the door. “I’m not gonna tell you…yet.”

The twinkle in his eyes promised a day of adventure, and with the click of the door, she began running around getting ready. Excitement bubbled within her, and the thought of spending the whole day with Lew, exploring Paris, made her heart flutter. She quickly changed out of her PT gear and into her khaki service uniform, paired with a jacket.

In what felt like no time, she was ready and stood before the small mirror, adjusting her clothes with a smile. The longer she inspected her reflection, the more her smile fell. The memories of donning flattering dresses for dances and nights out with friends tugged at her heart.

A light knock on the door startled her from her thoughts, and she opened it to find Lew waiting outside holding a package, wearing his own khaki service uniform.

“Special delivery,” he grinned.

As (y/n) spotted the package in Nix’s hands, confusion danced in her eyes. She had no inkling of what could be inside. She hesitated for a moment, surprised by the unexpected gesture, then took the package from him with a warm but puzzled smile.

“Is this…for me?” she asked, turning the package over in her hands.

Lewis nodded, the corner of his lips quirking into a smile. “Open it.”

With a hint of skepticism, she moved to the bed and sat down. Her fingers traced the edges of the wrapping, feeling the paper under her touch. She slowly tore it open, revealing the lavish box within. As (y/n) opened the box, her eyes widened in surprise and delight. She gently lifted its contents from the box, a soft fabric flowing through her fingers.

It was the dress from the shop window.

The colors were beautiful, a blend of blues and greens, like that of the ocean on a clear day. It was absolutely beautiful, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

“How did you…?” she started, lost for words.

Leaning against the doorframe, he grinned. “A little bit of magic. I have my ways.”

“Oh, Lew,” she breathed, looking up at his with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “This is…wow.”

“Try it on,” Lew encouraged gently, noting her hesitation.

Her voice was full of pure joy as she hugged him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Feeling her excitement, Lew chuckled softly. It was a joy to see her so happy, and the sound of her laughter filled the room, making everything seem a little brighter. She pulled back slightly and planted a grateful kiss on his cheek. It was a soft touch that left a lingering warmth on his skin. He could feel the gentle press of her lips, a touch that seemed to linger for a moment longer.

Nix grinned down at her as she pulled away. “Go on,” he urged, nodding toward the bathroom.

She hurriedly went to change, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. Slipping out of her boxy service uniform, she carefully slid into the dress. As she stood before the mirror, clad in the dress, her breath caught in her throat. It was a sight she hadn’t seen in years, a vision of femininity that had been suppressed for years. The dress draped over her frame gracefully, the fabric gently caressing her skin. Her eyes met her reflection, and for a moment, she was taken aback. It was her, and yet, it felt like she was seeing someone else. The woman in the mirror was strong, resilient, and beautiful. The dress, with its simple yet elegant design, accentuated her features, highlighting the curves and lines of her body.

Tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting the myriad of emotions swirling within her. It had been so long since she felt like a woman; feminine, delicate, and simply herself. The war had taken so much from her, including the chance to embrace her womanhood. But in this moment, in this dress, she felt a glimpse of it once more. She took a deep breath and attempted to zip up the back of the dress. Despite her efforts, she found it surprisingly difficult to do it on her own. The zipper seemed determined to elude her, mocking her efforts.

(Y/n) emerged from the bathroom, her steps tentative, but her face radiant with a newfound sense of confidence. Her hair was down, and her eyes shone with a captivating blend of excitement and nervousness. She stopped a few feet from him, allowing him to take her in. Nix’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t help but blush under his gaze. It was an unspoken compliment that made her feel more beautiful than she had in years.

Lew was momentarily struck by her beauty, a mixture of awe and adoration enveloping him. He had seen her in her uniform every day, but this was different; She looked like a vision, like a magnificent piece of art that hung in the Louvre. He stood up off the doorframe, a beaming smile gracing his face as he took in her appearance.

“Would you mind…uh…zipping me up?” she asked, a blush tinting her cheeks. It was a simple request, but it held a significance that made her heart flutter. For Lewis, her request set his heart racing. It was an intimate act, and he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Of course,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

As she turned, her back exposed, he saw how the dress delicately revealed her skin. She brushed her hair gently to the side. (Y/n)’s skin was bare against the zipper, and Lew could feel his fingers trembling slightly with nervousness. He took a steadying breath, trying to focus on the task at hand.

His fingertips brushed against her back as began to pull the zipper up, his touch light and cautious, yet filled with a tenderness he couldn’t contain. The sensation of her bare skin beneath his fingers sent shivers down his spine, igniting a warmth that spread through him. Lew tried to keep his focus on the zipper, on the task at hand, but he couldn’t help being acutely aware of her presence and the intimacy of the moment.

As Nix finished zipping up her dress, he paused for a moment, taking in the sight before him. (Y/n) looked stunning, the dress accentuating her features in a way that made his breath catch. He felt a surge of pride that he had chosen something that made her smile and feel beautiful.

When she turned to face him, her cheeks dusted pink with a sheepish smile and he grinned back. “You look absolutely breathtaking,” he breathed, his voice laced with awe.

“Thank you, Lew,” she replied. “That means more to me than you know.”

Nix gently brushed a few strands of her (y/h/c) hair back from her face. His fingers were careful and tender, lightly grazing her skin, allowing her to feel their warmth. For a brief second, their eyes locked unspoken emotions passing between them like a silent conversation.

In that moment, it was as if time slowed down. She felt his touch, gentle and reassuring, and something more; a connection that stirred her. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on either of them.

He stepped back, breaking the gentle spell, and gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”

(Y/n) closed the door behind her with a wide smile. “Absolutely.”

As they made their way to the lobby, she noticed the bustling atmosphere of the hotel. Guests were going about their day, the sound of chatter and laughter filling the air. There was a certain charm to it, one that she’d come to associate with the beautiful city.

Lew held the door for her as they stepped out into the lively Parisian streets. It was a beautiful morning, the city alive despite how desolate the night before had been. The crisp air carried the faint smell of coffee and pastries, mixing with the sounds of distant street musicians and the lively chatter of the bustling city.

“So what’s first on the agenda?” She asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.

He beamed, tucking his arm through hers as they strolled down the street. “Breakfast.”

(Y/n) chucked, feeling pure joy as they wandered through the vibrant streets, looking for the perfect café to start their adventure.

After a hearty breakfast and several cups of coffee to fuel them for the day, (y/n) and Lewis set out for the day’s adventures. Lew guided her through the cobbled streets, past charming little shops, cafés, and artistic displays. The world seemed to be at ease, the Eiffel Tower standing tall in the distance.

As they walked, he shared stories of the city, tales of its history, art, and its resilience under Nazi occupation. She listened intently, captivated by both the tales and the storyteller himself. Every once in a while, he’d move his hand to her waist to direct her through a crowd, and each time, a gentle flutter danced in her chest.

They found themselves in Montmartre, a place seemingly frozen in time with its cobbled streets and rustic buildings. It was there that they stumbled upon a charming art gallery tucked away on a cobblestone side street. Sharing an intrigued look, they decided to step inside.

Lew’s eyes were drawn to a particular piece that captured his attention: a painting of Paris at night. The artist had beautifully blended dark blues and purples to form the backdrop of the city with twinkling lights like stars on the ground. The Eiffel Tower stood tall, a beacon of bright elegance against the dark canvas.

“Look at his,” he said, gesturing toward the work.

(Y/n) stared at the piece in wonder. “I don’t know how people are so talented.”

“Me neither.”

As they stood before the painting, they became captivated by the way the artist had recreated the magic of Paris after dark. It was a beautiful representation of the city and echoing its vibrant nightlife. The gallery held many such treasures, each reflecting the essence of the city they had grown to love. After a few hours of perusing the artwork and exploring, Lewis led them to their next stop.

In the heart of Paris, Notre Dame Cathedral stood as a timeless testament to history and faith. (Y/n) and Lew approached the iconic structure, awestruck by its intricate details and towering spires.

They stepped into the cool, dim interior, and were greeted by the hushed whispers of other visitors. Rays of sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the worn wooden pews and mosaic floor.

“This is my mother’s favorite,” Nix spoke, his voice hushed. “She loved to come here and pray.”

(Y/n) watched his eyes slowly rise to the cross at the front of the sanctuary as he continued quietly. “She needs it being married to my father.”

Sliding his arm from hers, she wrapped her hand around his bicep, squeezing softly in a gesture that told him she was there. “We’d sometimes come here just to get away. She never told Blanche and I, but we knew.”

Their footsteps echoed through the ancient halls as they slowly walked down the aisle. (Y/n) could sense the weight of Lew’s memories as he revisited the cathedral. She was honored to be allowed into a part of his life that was incredibly personal, but also heartbroken that he had such memories.

“I’m sorry,” (y/n) said gently, her voice filled with empathy.

He shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Visiting here makes me feel close to her. I miss her more than I thought I would. Her and Blanche both.”

They reached the side chapel, its walls adorned with flickering candles and well-worn prayer benches. Lew paused, gazing at a flickering candle as if lost in thought.

“When I visited alone, sometimes I’d light a candle for her,” he continued, his voice still soft. “I’d pray for her peace, for our family.”

(Y/n) watched the flame, feeling incredible respect for the woman who shaped him into the man he was today; the man she’d fallen in love with. She imagined the strength it must have taken for Lew’s mother to endure and protect her children.

“Your mother sounds like an incredible woman,” she murmured.

He nodded, a distant look in his eyes. “She is. Back home, she’s the national vice-president of the AWVS.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly. “Wow. That’s amazing.”

Looking down at her, he grinned, a glint of love in his eyes. “So are you,” he whispered as he gently hooked his arm around hers began leading them to the exit.

(Y/n)’s face warmed as they stepped out into the chilly Parisian air, and Lew took a deep breath, exhaling a sense of relief. “(Y/n), thank you.”

“For what?” she asked.

“For being there.”

She gently squeezed his arm, offering a somforting smile. “Always.”

It was around noon by the time they made their way back to the main street after visiting the beautiful Luxembourg gardens. Amidst the lively street scene, (y/n) noticed a quaint bookshop, its windows decorated with book covers and handwritten signs announcing what she guessed were the latest arrivals.

She gasped softly, her eyes brightening with excitement as she pulled on Nix’s arm. “Lew, look at that bookshop! Can we go in?”

He smiled at her eagerness. “Lead the way, corporal.”

They stepped into the bookshop, and (y/n) felt a rush of warmth and nostalgia. The scent of old and new books mingled, and the soft lighting created a cozy atmosphere. Wooden shelved reached the ceiling, packed with books of varying sizes, colors, and languages.

“This is what I imagine heaven is like,” (y/n) whispered, her eyes alight with glee.

Her eyes danced with delight as she roamed the aisles, trailing her fingers over the spines of the books. Lew watched her, admiring the way her face lit up with each new discovery, her enthusiasm infectious. He might not be an avid reader, but seeing her so joyful made his heart swell. As she continued to explore the shelves, Lewis found himself pulled into her enthusiasm. He picked up a few books that seemed interesting to him, mostly based on historical events and memoirs.

As they browsed through the shelves, they would occasionally pick out a book that caught their eye, sharing it with the other. They read aloud interesting excerpts, laughing or pondering over the words.They spent a good amount of time immersed in the shelves, exchanging stories and good conversation. Sometimes, their fingers brushed against each other, causing a blush to creep onto their faces.

Lew was engrossed in the books before him as (y/n) browsed the neighboring bookshelf. She couldn’t help but steal glances at the man she was completely in love with. His focused expression hinted at the stories and emotions the books invoked within him. Fascinated by the glint in his eye and the subtle smile gracing hi lips, (y/n) drifted closer to him.

Lew’s deep boice pulled her from her thoughts, his words tinged with excitement. “Hey, (y/n). I think you’ll like this one,” he called, holding up a slightly worn book with a dark red cover.

Her eyes widened in amazement as she read the title,”Roméo et Juliette.” A gasp of delight escaped her lips. “No way! And it’s in French!” she exclaimed. “I don’t speak French, but I have to have this.”

She watched as Nix smiled, the affection in his gaze not lost on her. “Mon cœur a-t-il aimé jusqu'à présent?” he began, the words rolling off his tongue beautifully. renoncez-y, vue! Car je n'ai jamais vu la vraie beauté jusqu'à cette nuit.”

Entranced by his almost perfect french, she listened intently as his gaze remained on her. The way he looked at her made her feel cherished and appreciated, as if she were the most beautiful story in this quaint bookstore.

“What does it mean?” she asked softly, her voice unsteady under his gaze.

Lew shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. “It’s a quote from Romeo and Juliet, but I can’t remember which part.”

(Y/n) raised a speculative eyebrow as amusement danced in her eyes. “If you say so,” she paused, grabbing the book from his hand. “I’m gonna get this.”

Little did she know that he knew exactly what he’d said.

“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For i ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”

Later That Night:

The city was awash with the golden hues of twilight, slowly surrendering to the incandescent glow of a thousand streetlights. (Y/n) and Lewis strolled arm in arm down a broad, bustling street, their breath visible in the cold evening air, drawing them closer together in search of warmth. A musician serenaded the area with the sweet melodies of his violin from a nearby street corner. The couple walked in silence. It was welcome, but (y/n) decided to break it with a question.

“So,” she began softly, the night breeze carrying her words gently into the air. “What do you think you’ll do when we finally go home?”

Lew looked down at her, the soft glow of the streetlights playing across his features. An indiscernible expression passed over his face as he carefully chose his words. “I honestly don’t know,” he replied, hiding his true desire. “I think I’m going to offer Dick a position to work for me at the Nitration Works.”

In truth, he knew exactly what he wanted to do when he got home. He wanted to marry the woman in front of him, to start a life with her, to build a future together. But those words remained unsaid, guarded in his heart as he waited for the right moment to reveal them.

Her thoughtful gaze met his, and a playful grin tugged at her lips. “What if someone else happened to be looking for a job? Someone like your best friend?

Lew chuckled, masking the way his heart jolted at the suggestion. “Ehh,” he shrugged, his expression light-hearted. “Harry’s gonna marry Kitty the second we get back, so-”

(Y/n) mockingly scoffed, releasing his arm and stepping back, feigning offense. “Shut up! You’re such a-”

But her rebuke was halted as he gently drew her back toward him, his hand resting warmly on her waist, bringing her almost flush against his chest. In that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, and a wave of shudders passed through her.

“-Wonderful human being?” He finished, a knowing glint in his eyes and a touch of mischief in his voice. They stood close, their breaths mingling in the chilly air. “I think something can be arranged. I do know the owners, after all.”

“You wouldn’t get tired of me?” (Y/n) mumbled, feeling his warm breath on her face, the possibility both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

His eyes locked onto hers, seeing a future reflected in their depths. “Never. I’ll never get tired of you, (y/n/n).”

A tender smile crept across her lips, her heart pulsating with a mixture of excitement and affection. “Well,” she softly murmured, laying a gentle hand on his chest. “I’m glad that’s settled, then.”

“Good,” he whispered, his voice smooth as honey. ”Look up.”

(Y/n) glanced at him briefly before lifting her gaze to follow his. Her eyes widened at the sight of the Eiffel Tower before her and how it seemingly touched the clouds.

“Wow,” she breathed, the wonder and awe evident in her voice as she took in the sight. “It’s more beautiful than I could ever imagine.”

Lew’s eyes softened as he looked at her, a smile gracing his features. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “More than words can describe.”

Her awestruck gaze shifted to him, and he turned and held his hand out for her, the other gesturing toward the tower’s entrance. “Shall we?”

Nodding, she took his hand, intertwining their fingers softly, a heat spreading up her arm at the contact. Together, they made their way toward the entrance, anticipation in the air as they boarded the lift and ascended the tower. The iron structure offered a breathtaking view of Paris, like a million stars scattered across the earth. The Seine River glimmered below, winding its way through the heart of the city.

Reaching the topmost platform, they exited the lift and icy wind hit their faces. (Y/n) instinctively turned into Lew, and he wrapped an arm around her waist carefully, pulling her into his side. They made their way to the railing and leaned against it, taking in the panorama before them. At the top of the tower, amidst the twinkling lights of Paris, the air was charged with expectation, and the city below them a dreamy canvas where romance seemed to linger in every corner.

“It’s like a sea of lights,” (y/n) marveled, her voice tinged with wonder.

Lew nodded, captivated by her. “It never gets old.”

They stood there holding the other close, lost in the beauty of the scene. The night seemed to stretch endlessly, time freezing as they reveled in the magic of the moment. After a while, Lew looked down at her in his arms, his gaze soft.

“You know,” he began, voice gentle. “Today has been one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

She smiled, the moment washing over her like a warm embrace. “Me too, Lewis. There’s no place I’d rather be.”

This was it.

Lew hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before turning to face her and taking her hand in his. “(Y/n), you’re the most important person in my life.”

When you got hit,” he continued, his voice strained but steady as he cleared his throat. “I realized that I can’t live without you. When you were gone, I-” His voice trailed off, a lump forming in his throat as he grappled with the memories of that moment.

(Y/n) stood in front of him, her breath held and heart thundering in her chest. The gravity of his words sank in, and she searched his eyes, finding a vulnerability she’d glimpsed only once before: the moment she lay bleeding out before him as he begged her to stay awake. She couldn’t bear to hear more and her heart urged her to act. So, before he could continue, a surge of courage and longing flowed through her. She slid her hand to the nape of his neck and pulled him down toward her slowly. Lew then tugged her tightly against him, her body fitting perfectly into his embrace. The warmth of her presence, the scent of her hair, and the beating of her heart against his chest fueled the intensity of the moment.

As their lips met, it was an electric collision of emotions. Passion surged through their veins, a fierce and tender connection that ignited a fire within them. Her lips were soft and yielding as Lew fervently deepened the kiss, fueled by years of unvoiced affection. He slid his hand up her waist, feeling the curve of her body. His fingers gently cupped her jaw, tilting her head for a deeper connection.

(Y/n) responded in kind, her arms wrapped around him, pulling him impossibly closer. Her hand slid into his hair, fingers intertwining with the soft strands. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath her touch, matching the tempo of her own.

As they reluctantly pulled away, their breathless pants mingled in the cold night air creating a visible mist. Their lips tingled, the echoes of the kiss lingering. Nix could feel his heart racing, an adrenaline-fueled excitement that made him momentarily forget the cold. He smiled, his cheeks flushed with a mix of cold air and warmth from their embrace.

“Wow.” he managed to say, breathless and amazed.

(Y/n) laughed, a delightful sound that filled the space around them. “Yeah, wow,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with joy and love.

They stood there, caught in a bubble of euphoria, their laughter ringing in the Parisian night. The world below seemed to carry on, but for that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in the magic of the Eiffel Tower.

Lewis brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle and affectionate. “I’ve wanted to do that for years, you know. You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration.

Blushing, (y/n)’s smile widened. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for years,” she teased, her fingers tracing patterns on his coat.

“What?” He asked in disbelief. “I didn’t know that!”

She shrugged. “Well, for an intelligence officer, you can be clueless.”

Smirking, he brought her close once more, their foreheads touching. “I love you. More than anything,” he whispered. His hand, warm and gentle, cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing circles as if to memorize every contour.

(Y/n) smiled, a radiant expression that illuminated the darkness around them. “I love you, too,” she responded, her voice tender, as if afraid this might still be a dream.

The years of unspoken feelings, the shared laughter, the late-night conversations…they had all led to this moment. The Eiffel Tower, with all its history and romantic lore, bore witness to the birth of their love story.

Their lips met again, softer this time, a gentle affirmation of their confessions. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and futures. Nix let his hand fall from her cheek to her waist, pulling her close in a tender embrace.

(Y/n) rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was a comforting rhythm, a reminder that they had crossed the line they’d been wanting for the longest time.

“I never want this moment to end,” Lew whispered, his voice a tender murmur.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with love and a tinge of sadness. “Me neither. I wish we could always be this close.”

He nodded, a sense of completeness settling in his heart. The view of Paris below them was still breathtaking, but it paled in comparison to their love, which encompassed their world, lighting it in a dazzling haze.

(Y/n) gasped suddenly, the sound echoing in the cold air and joltingLew from his thoughts. He looked at her, concern furrowing his brow. “What?” He asked, eyes widening with a mix of surprise and worry.

“Is this why Dick gave us the passes?” She asked, amusement filling her voice.

Nix’s laughter joined the chorus of the Parisian night, a hearty sound that seemed to reverberate through the beams of the tower itself. He found himself shrugging, an innocent look on his face. “Maybe,” he admitted, mischief floating in his eyes.

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wordsaresimple-imnot · 6 days

Text

Drunken Confessions - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader (1st POV)

Summary: The boys and reader are out for a night of fun and drinking that leaves the reader with little to no memories of what happened after she had a drinking contest with Babe. As things slowly start to drift back to her, she remembers one thing clearly; she spilled her true feelings about Bill to someone. But who did she tell?

Warnings: none really, cursing per usual. No use of y/n or physical description. She/her pronouns.

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

A/N pt2: This turned out longer than I thought it would starting out, but I let the fanfic gods guide my fingers and here we are, haha. If anyone likes this enough, I have an idea of a next day smut part 2 I can write. Comments, likes, and reblogs make my day. Thanks for reading!

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I wasn't sure what made me wake up. Maybe the skull splitting headache, or maybe the sun shining through the blinds hitting my face, or maybe the way I'd sell everything I owned for water or maybe my bladder being so full that a single sneeze would cause a mess. Whatever the reason, the barest of movements to open my eyelids made me want to die instantly. The only motivation I could grasp onto to get up was to empty my bladder. Dying from a hangover is one thing, dying in my own piss is not something I could ever live with. The logic of my thought made no sense, but what the hell did I care as I practically crawled to the bathroom.

Once I was relieved and able to draw the last bit of strength I had to splash water on my face and half-ass brush my teeth, I made it back to my bed with a little more dignity. Okay, it was still on my knees but at least I wasn't crawling. A win is a win. A full glass of water on my bedside table catches my eye and I down it quicker than I've ever done before, well except for maybe the drinks last night. How did this get here? No way I was coherent enough to pour a glass of water for myself to wake up to.

As I got more situated in the bed, very much facing away from the windows because I couldn't bring myself to gather any more will power to close them more properly I couldn't stop thinking about the glass of water. And then it hit me that I was not in my dress from the night before or even just my underwear but pajamas. Being aware of how little my brain and motor skills actually worked together when I'm more than tipsy, these things stood out. What the hell happened last night? I tried to focus on my last memories of the previous night hoping that would shed some light on my current situation.

~~ last night ~~

"Oh come on! Are y'all scared to lose to little ole me?" I smiled sweetly to the table, making my southern accent a little heavier to hopefully sway one of them to take on my challenge.

"None of us would lose against you, doll. We just don't want to deal with you tomorrow morning." Toye said, motioning around the table before pointing his finger directly at me. I rolled my eyes and leaned a little closer over the table.

"Nah, I'm sweet as pie darlin'. I think y'all don't want the news spreading that someone in Easy Company lost to a little farmer girl." I smirked at Toye and the rest of the men, daring them to deny it.

"Fuck it, I'll do it." Babe shot up from the end of the table and made his way over towards my section. I beamed at his cocky smiled and made shooing motions to Luz and Perco to make space so he could sit across from me. With a nod to Liebgott, I watched him go off to grab us our first rounds of beer.

As Liebgott made his way back holding two beers, I see Bull, Martin, and Bill following him from the bar.

"The fuck are you doing?" Bill's eyes bounced back and forth between me and Babe. Unsure of who was directing the question to, I shrugged and decided to answer.

"Babe thinks he can handle a drinkin' contest with me." I shoot Babe a wink as he narrows his eyes a little at me. I look back up to Bill when I hear him curse and turn more fully to Babe.

"Haven't I taught you anything? Don't start shit you can't win." He's poking Babe in the chest with every other word, making the other bat his hand away.

"Who says I ain't gonna win? Look at her, she's like a flower. This will be over by the third beer." Babe sits up straighter, setting determined eyes on me. He starts to look more annoyed than ever when Luz, Bull, and Tab start laughing.

"Anyone else, I'd say you had a chance. But she," Tab throws his arm over my shoulders, jostling me into his side, "has come the closest out of all of us to beating Bull. She lost, but damn it was amazing to watch." I give Tab a playful shove, righting myself back to a sitting position.

Babe's face has paled a little but somehow manages to look even more determined to see this through. "I'm still in."

"Perfect!" I smile at him, raising my glass to cheers him. "If I win, you have to be my shadow all day tomorrow to take care of me. If I win, you can get my cigarettes for the next two supply packages."

"Deal." Babe cheers me back, and we take our first sips of beer simultaneously. Bill looks beyond annoyed, muttering 'It's your funeral' and starts back to the bar. Bull sends me a wink, Martin a smile, and then follow behind Bill.

"Buckle up, Philly boy. You're in for a ride." I shoot a final wink at him, and then start inhaling my beer. Babe's shocked face and scramble to follow my lead is the last full coherent memory of that night.

I groan in frustration as the rest of the night seems to dissolve from my mind and I can't comfortably say I know what is fiction and what really happened. I have a vague feeling dancing with Tab, Luz and Toye probably happened. Drinking usually turned to dancing in my case. I prayed that singing at the bar with Malarkey and Muck was fiction. It feels like a huge gap is missing after that (please be fictional) memory and then slivers of different memories start floating out. Suddenly I'm in a cold sweat as bits start floating in.

"He's alright but doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine."

"You can't tell him any of this. Swear it."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever."

Fuck me, fuck my parents for having me, fuck my grandparents and ancestors for having them, fuck fuck fuck. I take it back, I'd happily sing drunk songs with Malarkey and Muck for the rest of my life if I can take those words back. And just when I thought my life couldn't get worse, I shot up in bed and another fact hits me...I don't know who I said all of those things to. FUCK!

Hours later, I'm still in bed trying to make myself remember anything about my mystery companion or at the very least come up a way to turn back time. Just as my stomach growls for the fourth time, there's a knock on my door and then it's swinging open. I jump up again for the second time that day.

"Hey sleeping beauty, how's the hangover?" Luz asks, all bright eyes and smiles as Babe follows behind him looking exactly how I feel. I shift up the bed to make room for Luz to sprawl out at the foot of the bed while Babe just curls into a ball next to me, back to the window and sunlight.

"I feel like death." I manage to croak out. It's the first time I've used my voice since passing out last night and you'd swear I smoked like a chimney from the sound.

"You look it too." Luz narrowly dodges the pillow I throw at his face. The movements cause Babe to give a pathetic whine and he curls up even more. "I don't know who pissed in your coffee, but this is not how a winner should be acting." I roll my eyes, smiling briefly as I get confirmation that I did win last night. My stomach growling again wipes it from my face.

"I'm starving. And if I won, that means you're my personal shadow all day today to help me feel better." I give Babe a small nudge, just enough to make him crack an eye open to look at me. "Y'all head down to the mess hall and get me two of everything while I get ready and meet you there."

After a few seconds of Babe making no moves to get up, Luz jumps up and all but starts dragging him towards the door. "Come on, Babe, you heard your mistress." Because his hands are full with Babe, he can't dodge the pillow I throw and gives out a low 'ow' as it connects with his face.

Just as they were about to close the door, I blurted out the question I've been trying to figure out. "Hey, who helped me home last night?"

"Not sure doll, I was playing darts with Martin, Bull and Babe." Luz almost had the door closed when he poked his back back in. "Why do you ask?"

I shrug, praying it comes out nonchalant while I'm dying inside. "Just needed to ask them a question. I think I lost something on the way home and just wondered if they knew about it." Something being my dignity. "Don't worry about it, I'll figure it out. Thanks." With a nod, Luz closed the door and left me to agonize alone.

The rest of the day was the most frustrating day of my life. Not because of the hangover, that started feeling better after I got some food and water, with a splash of hair of the dog, in me. Babe started to perk up too but was still definitely battling it so I took mercy on him and let him go back to sleep until his turn for patrol that night. I had the day off from helping Nixon censor mail and finalize reports so that didn't add to my frustrations. No, all of my frustration was because I spent the whole day tracking down the guys and asking who helped me home. They all gave the same answer: wasn't me.

Through my investigating, I was able to piece a loose timeline of the night. Once our game was over, I started dancing with Tab, the next song went to Luz, and I somehow managed to drag Toye out for the one after that. Once they all declined another song, I went to the bar to get another drink and ended up singing two bar songs with Malarkey and Muck, who afterwards started up a card game with Toye, Tab and Penkala that went on the rest of the time. I apparently stayed at the bar, chatting with Bull, Martin and Bill till Luz and Babe came over and got them to play darts the rest of the night. Liebgott kept me company at the bar, making sure I started on water but eventually left to start flirting with the barmaid that kept making eyes at him. My last hope was Perco but someone told me he left before I did to get some sleep before his morning patrol.

Just as the sun started to drift down, I was at my wits end. As a last ditch effort, I decided to write up a timeline diagram to triple check that everyone was accounted for. Surely one of the guys was lying to me and waiting to use my confessions as leverage for something. I move everything on my desk to one side and start making my diagram. By my third review of it, I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something. So I write all of the men's names down and start checking them off as I mentally go over the stories again.

Luz...check. Bull...check. Perco...check. Babe...check. Liebgott...check. Tab...check. Toye...check. Muck...check. Malarkey...check. Martin...check. Penkala...check. There's no one left. I was just a lunatic talking to myself and somehow managed to get myself home and in bed like a sober person? Just as I was about to commit to believing that I realized I left one name off the list that didn't show up in anyone's story long enough to be crossed off. Bill...fuck.

I crumbled the paper and practically sprinted to my room, dodging soldiers and helpers like a madwoman. There was more foot traffic as the morning and evening patrol were switching foxholes and dinner was currently going. I managed to catch Babe on his way towards the mess hall and made him swear to tell everyone I was still feeling sick and would be in my room the rest of the night. Thankfully he was still feeling sick, so he took me at my word and didn't pay attention to my erratic behavior.

Back in my room I couldn't decide what I was more humiliated about; spilling my secret feelings about Bill TO Bill or being so drunk I don't know it was Bill I was even talking to. With a belly flop I landed on my bed, pressed my face into my pillow and let out a full body scream. Just as it ended there was a knock on my door.

"Go away, I'm dying." I moved my face to the side so whoever was there could somewhat hear me. It wasn't from drinking but hey, semantics at this point. The knock came again, this time more forceful. "Seriously, whoever is there just let me be." With a huff I push myself off the bed and swing open the door to reveal the cause of all my misery. Bill fucking Guarnere. Fuck me.

He's leaning against the door frame without a care in the world it seems and his signature smirk on his face. He'd never looked better. "You know my ma and sisters would come all the way over here and beat my ass if they ever found out I let a woman be miserable all alone. Especially without food." He raised a small bag to emphasize his point. Without waiting for me to answer, he brushed past me into my room and sat squarely on the bed, leaning against the wall, watching me.

Who knows how long it took my brain to send the right signals to make my body move, but eventually I broke our staring contest, closed the door and made my way to the bed. Because I was basically Nix's aid, I was able to get my own room but it was the barest of bare minimums. Side table, joining bathroom, and a bed against the wall. So the only place left to sit was on the bed with Bill, but I tried to put as much distance as I could so I sat crossed legged against the wall acting as the headboard and looked at the bag he still held.

"What's in there?" I decided the best tactic right now was to pretend nothing happened at all. So far Bill seemed to be of the same mind.

"Bread and some cheese. Didn't know how much your stomach could handle." He tossed the bag to me, nodding his acknowledgement to my quick thanks and I tore it open and started nibbling on the contents. After a few beats, he decided the best time to say something was when my mouth was completely full. "So...heard you lost something last night."

Next thing I know I really do feel like I'm dying as I choke on my bite of food, simultaneously batting away his hands that are trying to reach behind to pat my back. After I get small control over my breathing, I wipe the few tears that formed and down the rest of the water I had at my bedside. Two shaky breaths later all I can manage is squeaking out, "What?"

Bill looks at me with a sliver of concern that I'll start hacking up a lung again, but slowly his normal smirk starts to form and he leans back against the wall. "Luz said you were trying to figure out who helped you home last night because you lost something. Toye and Bull said you were pretty aggressive in your questions about everyone's activities last night. If you haven't figured it out already, I was the one that helped you get home from the bar but I don't recall you losing anything." His posture was relaxed, even lazy, but his eyes were hard and jaw was set. Challenging me to make the next move.

I cleared my throat two times, before I forced myself to speak. "Yeah, I actually figured it out a little bit ago." Bill inclined his head towards me, indicating that he wanted me to elaborate on the 'losing something' part. "I, uh, well I was just trying to figure out who helped me and didn't want Luz asking a million and one questions so that seemed the best answer."

"Why didn't you come find me once you figure it all out?" One thing about Bill Guarnere, he never pulled punches and was a hound dog when he set his mind to something.

"No reason...I, uh, well I just..." I turned all my focus on the crumpled paper bag in front of me so I didn't catch his eyes and completely spill my guts. Sober this time.

"Ah come on sweetheart, cat got your tongue now?" He moved to lean down on his arm, shifting closer to me. "Let me help you remember." With that damn, sexy smirk Bill started recounting the night before to fill in the blanks.

~~ last night, Bill POV ~~

I haven't taken my eyes off her all night. If anyone asked I'd say it was out of concern for how much she drank and watching out for a fellow soldier. That was partly true, but the majority was being jealous. Jealous for how easy she laughed and touched and moved with our friends. Don't get it twisted, we are friends too, closer than most of them but it's not as carefree as these moments I'm witnessing.

It can't be carefree because if I let my guard down for one second I'd spill my guts about how she makes me feel. How everything fades out around the edges when she gives that million dollar smile and her eyes crinkle a little at the sides. How I would do anything stupid again and again to make that little snort come out when she's laughing too hard and can't help it. How I want to protect her from this war so damn bad so I never have to see pain in her eyes. How I'd fight the entire Kraut army for the chance to kiss her just once and hold her in my arms.

But I can't say any of that because I'd rather suffer in silence than risk losing her from my life, even as just a friend. So I stay silent and keep watch as everyone around me enjoys their night without a care in the world, not knowing that my entire world is sitting at the bar alone.

She's just started on a second glass of water when some guy from Fox Company slides up next to her and starts talking. Whatever he said has her turning in her seat to point in the direction of Liebgott that left her for some barmaid. While she's focused on where Liebgott is, I'm focused on watching the guy shamelessly check her out. I down the rest of my beer, shove the glass into Luz's hand and march straight over to the bar before any of the guys can ask what I'm doing.

I make it over just as their hands connect and I can hear them exchanging names.

"I can't believe someone as beautiful as you is here all alone." I'm going to brake this guys jaw.

"She's not alone, private." I push myself to my full height and use my Sergeant's voice. This makes him stand up straighter and drop her hand.

"Bill!" She says my name with so much awe and happiness, as if she hadn't be around me in some fashion throughout the night. Being to drunk to care about policy or decorum she wraps her arms around me and gives me the prettiest smile.

"Hey sweetheart," I give her a soft smile back and wrap one arm around her shoulders, keeping her where she is. I look back at the private with a hard glare and raise an eyebrow. "Need something?"

"No sir, I just came to grab a drink. I'll, uh, I'll just get one over there." He practically runs to the other end of the bar, avoiding anymore eye contact.

A soft giggle, makes me look back down and smile again. "What's so funny, doll?"

"You didn't need to scare him, we were just talking." A piece of her hair falls against her cheek when she laughs again. I move it behind her ear, letting my finger graze her cheek before I answer.

"He wanted to do more than talk, believe me."

"What would I do without Bill Guarnere as my knight in shining armor." The smile she sends up to me is nearly enough to send me to my knees right then and there.

I wrap my other arm around her and drop a quick kiss to the top of her head. "You'll never have to find out, sweetheart. I'm always gonna be there." We stay like that for a minute, which isn't nearly long enough before I say, "Come on, lets get you to bed or you're gonna be dyin' tomorrow."

She manages to be get off the barstool and walk out of the bar so efficiently I wonder if she really is as drunk as I thought, but that hope is dashed once she stumbles over air and starts laughing. I can't help but laugh with her as I grab her hands to steady her.

"We should go dancing." She suddenly says and tries to get me to spin her.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Besides you probably want Tab for that, seems to be your favorite dancing partner. Always smiling at you and everything" I meant it to come out as a joke, but it sounded more bitter that anything. Thankfully she was in her own thoughts and didn't pick up the edge to my voice.

"He's alright but he doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine." She says it like it's a known fact and the most natural thing in the world for her say. It stops me dead in my tracks, which stops her because we are still holding hands.

"What did you say?" I tug her a little so she's turned around and looking at me. She gives a small shrug.

"Tab is cute and sweet but he's not Bill. I'd kill to dance with him and make him smile. It's so rare and makes my whole day when I can cause it."

"Sweetheart, you do know I'm Bill." I wait for the lightbulb to go off as she takes a step closer and looks at my face.

"No you're not, you're eyes are too dark."

"They're the same as they've been my whole life."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever." She lets go of my hands and starts walking off to her billet. I know I have the goofiest smile on my face as I watch her, before it's wiped away by the realization that she can't remember who I am. Of course I finally get the girl of my dreams to confess her feelings for me and she doesn't even know it's me she's talking to.

Just as I'm catching up to her, trying to figure out what to say, she turns to me with a panic stricken face. "You can't tell him any of this. Swear it." She grasps my hands again, squeezing for dear life.

"Your secrets safe with me, sweetheart." I do my best to give her a comforting smile to ease her panic, which seems to work. We don't talk anymore the rest of the way to her billet but we do hold hands the whole way.

Once we are in her room, I can tell she's losing consciousness quickly. I find some pajamas for her to change into, helping just enough to make it easier for her change without seeing or touching anything inappropriate. As she finishes changing and crawls into bed, I fill up a glass of water and set it on the bedside table. I take one final look around to make sure she's comfortable and settled in properly before dropping a kiss on top of her head and heading to the barracks for some shut eye before my patrol.

~~ End of Bill's POV ~~

I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment after Bill tells me the conversation we had. My eyes are firmly planted on the bag in my lap, that I've all but turned into confetti. I feel him shift on the bed again, so he's seated right next in front of me, but I can't bring myself to meet him gaze. His eyes never left my face the whole time he recounted everything and I'm too scared to look and see what emotion I'll find there. Amusement? Pity?

The decision is taken away from me when one of his hands cups the side of my neck and tips my head up to finally meet his gaze. There's a lot of emotion in his eyes, but I can't pinpoint what it is, which scares me even more.

"I'm sor-" I start to say but get cut off.

"Did you mean it?" His voice is soft but firm. He's not going to drop this and seems to be holding his breathe waiting for my answer.

"Yes." The word is barely more than a whisper but I know he heard it from the smile that takes over his face. Next thing I know he's leaning the rest of the way into my space, tilting my head to the side and softly pressing his lips to mine.

My hands reach up to fist his jacket, pulling him closer and the smallest whimper comes up when he nips at my bottom lip. My reaction seems to be all the go ahead Bill needs as he focuses on pulling me so we are flush against each other while taking possession over my mouth. At some point we rearrange ourselves to be laying on the bed, him draped over me like a second skin.

Our kisses between slow and languid to passionate and slightly frenzied. We don't know how long we stay like that, minutes or hours, but when we part our lips are swollen and we are breathing hard. Bill rests his forehead against mine and nudges my nose with his.

"Can I stay the night? No funny business, I just...now that I have you in my arms, I don't want to let you go just yet." He places soft kisses on both my cheeks and then my lips, looking at me with his heart in his eyes.

"I never want to be anywhere except your arms, Bill." I nudge his nose back and return the kiss he just gave. The smile he gives me has my heart melting and my lungs forgetting to breathe.

A few small kisses later, we've arranged ourselves into more comfortable positions; him on his back, me all but laying on top of him, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. Slowly we drift off to sleep with smiles on our faces thinking the same thing:

We have our whole world in our arms.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #bill guarnere #bill guarnere x reader #hbo war #hbo band of brothers #easy company #bill guarnere x you #william guarnere #band of brothers x you

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b00ks1ut · 4 months

Text

It’s All About Trust

Joe Liebgott X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, war, fluff (an attempt anyway I think), swearing, Briefly mention of reader being a medic, reader has a shit ton of siblings (relatable), not that many physical descriptions if any, mentions of death, normal Band of Brothers stuff

Sorry if this is bad. I’ve never written any BoB fanfiction and really have like hardly any writing experience at all so hopefully this isn’t horrible. Please give me feed back if you want. Thank you! Also sorry for the ending. It’s kinda abrupt but it’s the best I could get lol

Bois Jacques is hell. A very very cold hell. Nothing could truly combat the cold that seeps into everyone around me. Not even the plainish slop they feed us in an attempt at food. Or in the current case, cold, hard “pancakes”, or that’s what Domingus says they are.

Don pokes at his and calls after our ever so kind cook, “Joe these smell like my armpit!”

“At least your armpit is warm.” Skip grumbles from Malarkey’s side as he holds his pancake up for emphasis.

“You want syrup with that?” Domingus sasses back to him.

“Joe, be honest, what’s in these things anyway?” Don asks the retreating man.

“Nothing you won’t eat, Malarkey.” He replies.

“I won’t eat Malarkey.” Spina shoots back quickly causing us all grouped up to let out a chorus of laughs.

Julian brings back the topic of Babe and Spina’s run in with a German on their search for 3rd Battalion. “Hey, maybe Hinkle would like your share, huh?”

This happens to hit my funny bone and I let out a snort leading to the rest of the men’s laughter to only further increase until Peacock comes around looking for Dike.

“Try battalion CP, sir.” I tell the man. The rest of us wait for him to walk away on his hunt for the company CO before we break our into giggles again.

“Try Paris.” Skip laughs.

“Try Hinkle.” Malarkey adds, only increasing our laughter and before I know it tears are pricking my eyes.

Spina begins his less than great German impression and I have to leave before I piss myself laughing.

I seem to run into a brick wall in my way back to my foxhole, tears of laughter still stinging my eyes.

“Sorry ‘bout that (y/n/n).” A deep southern voice speaks from above me.

I take a look and send a smile at the blonde who’s got me held by the shoulders.

“You’re all good Bull, no harm done.” I tell him as I step out of his hold. “Sorry about that.”

“No harm done.” He repeats before walking away with a smile sent to me.

I continue to make my way back to my temporary home of a frozen foxhole. I look down to find none other than Joseph Liebgott.

I’ve always had a soft spot for the rageful Jew. I don’t think it’s any specific thing that made me so drawn to him but rather his whole entire being.

On the other hand he’s never shown any direct attraction to me. Sure nearly all the men of Easy have sent me a glance at least once but I don’t blame them, I’m one of the few women they’ve interacted with past a single night in around 2 years. But past a glance none of the boys have soberly tried anything.

Especially Joe. He’s not unfriendly to me but he’s never really gone out of his way to interact with me. Not until now.

He’s sitting alone in my foxhole, hands tucked under his armpits, gun leaning in the dirt next to him, and his eyes intensely trained on the line.

“Joe? Did you get lost?” I ask him with a small laugh.

“Uh?” He looks up at me and gives me a small smile. “Not lost, just looking for someone to talk to.”

“Luz’s hole is like 2 over that way.” I told him pointing in the direction of the jester’s own hiding place.

“Well good thing I wasn’t looking for George then, yeah?” He says with his trademark smirk. “I can leave if you’d like me to, though.”

"You're fine, but can I ask a question?" I asked as I began the short descent into the frozen foxhole.

"Shoot away (y/l/n)." The Californian told me, looking back at the line across the cold, white field.

"Why are you talking to me? I'm don't mean to be rude but you've never put any effort into having any interaction with me." I asked sitting across from him and stuffing my frozen hands into my jacket pockets.

"I'm just trying to be friendly. No time better than the present, right? Do you have a problem with that? I can leave if you need me to." Joe had begun to get a little defensive but that's hardly surprising when he'll jump at a chance to be upset, whether isn’t reasonable or not.

"Why now? There's hardly a point in making friends when fucking Babe and Spina barely just ran from a Kraut fucking foxhole so excuse my confusion at your extremely sudden olive branch when we're all about to be sent home either on a stretcher or in an enveloped as a piece of shitty metal with our names stamped into it!" I grabbed my dog tags and shook them for emphasis. It took all of my self control to not start yelling or crying, but I could feel the sting of unshed tears at my eyes. "We're all going to be blown to kingdom come by all of this damned artillery." I whisperd.

"Hey. That's not true. We've made it this far but look at us. Sitting in this frozen hell hole and you're alive, I'm alive, and so is Bull and George, Don, Babe, Doc, Skip, Penkala, Perco, and Buck and Lip." He began listing some of the guys we had been with for so long. "I know it's scary and there's not a single thing I can promise you to make anything seem ok, because I'm scared and I have no clue what's going to happen even 10 seconds from now but one thing I can tell you that might make you feel slightly better is that you've made it this far. You made it through Sobel's shitty personalty, Normandy, Carentan, and I know that if you have made it this far without a scratch then what can take you down? You’re what, one of nine kids back at home, you managed to talk and work your way into the airborne and then continue to be an absolute badass throughout boot camp and combat!” He took a break to really look at me and I took that as an opportunity to defend myself and my feelings.

“I’m really flattered but don’t you think I’ve been too lucky? I’ve come so far with nothing more than a bruise and I’m sure the next thing you know I’ll be blown to pieces! I don’t know why I thought I could do this, Joe! I’m fucking terrified and there’s no where to go!” I can feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes and in a sorry attempt to stop them I look to the sky. “I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore.”

“Hey, you can’t go thinking like that. You’re going to make it out of here alive. I need you to believe that because trust me when I say that you are the toughest damned woman I’ve ever met in my life.” He scooted closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.

The tears couldn’t be held any longer and the dam broke, salty waves rolling down the sides of face into my hair line. A sob escaped my lips before I could muffle it with a fist that had been stuffed between my lips only seconds too late.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, (y/n), we’re all feeling it, you’re the only one brave enough to let anyone see it.”

I let out a scoff. ‘Brave’ is not the right word to use. “I’m pathetic. I’m sitting here crying, doing nothing to help anyone around me who has it worse. I’m a a medic for fuck’s sake, I shouldn’t be crying when I routinely see how bad I could have it.”

Joe had only pulled me closer and wrapped his other arm around me, essentially cradling my shaking form. “Don’t you see? That’s what makes you so brave, (y/n). You see all these men in so much pain and put yourself in harms way to make sure they get patched up and safe. You are completely allowed to be overwhelmed and scared and cold and any other feeling a person can have. Not one man here would blame you for being upset right now. They know that as long as you are safe so are they, because when shit goes down you’re always there to help us.” He was talking so softly and so gently that I couldn’t help but cry harder.

“Oh fuck.” I muttered , wiping at my eyes. “I’m sorry Joe.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for Doll.” He gave me an affectionate pat. “Just know that you are such a light in the dark here, and not one of the men in these woods would judge you right now.”

I gave him a weak smile and sniffed, wiping at my eyes and nose. “Thank you, Joe, really. I’m forever grateful.”

“Oh don’t mention it, just don’t go telling anyone that I give out cuddles, I can’t have my reputation ruined like that.” Joe snickered with his smirk and a pat to my side.

“Your secret is safe with me as long as you don’t go telling people I cry.” I tittered and wrapped my arm around his neck.

“Your secret is safe with me, (y/n).”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

“It’s all about trust. I trust you, you trust me; that’s how this has to work, yeah?” I was nearly bumping noses with him and if I wanted to I could just lean in a little and kiss him. The thought quickly crosses my mind but part of me knows better.

“I trust you, Joseph Liebgott.” I meant it, with more of my heart than I thought was still there.

#band of brothers #hbo war #easy company #joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #bob fanfic #bob fandom #bull randleman #donald malarkey #medic reader

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malarkgirlypop · 7 days

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MEDIC! Part 27 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Oh guys this is a hard read for my first post in a hot second. I have been slow at writing this, cause this is super important and I don't want to have it be bad, or tacky. This is obviously horrible what happened to these people, and sometimes that horrific a of an event is hard to put into words. This is in means no way to offend anyone.

Disclaimer: End part of episode 9, if you are not comfortable with this please don't read.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, anyone else please let me know.

We again piled into the trucks, we were making good time, but it still felt like years being in the back of the vehicle. Babe had kept my secret from everyone like I had asked, but I caught him sending me looks throughout the night. The sadness still lingering in his eyes from the conversation we had had previously. All I could do was send him small smiles.

We passed through the green countryside, chatting amongst ourselves. The rolling plains seemed endless, as they stretched out for miles, further than the eye could see.

The trucks passed through the outskirts of the small rural town, a decrepit barn sat on the side of the road. Even from over the roar of the engines from all of the vehicles driving by, I could still hear the yells of men. I look to the barn curious about the commotion, everyone else also peering over. The barn door swung open as soldiers tossed men onto the ground, I could see from here the men were wearing German uniforms. I couldn’t look away fast enough as the soldier’s standing behind the men raised their guns, shooting them in the back of the head. I turned my eyes away from the scene, not wanting to witness the brutal killings.

The other men seemed unfazed.

Except for O’Keefe, who looked around to his fellow comrades with shock on his face. They didn’t return the sorrow that etched his features, only shrugging their shoulders, or smiling at the man for looking so distraught by what he had seen.

His eyes finally landed on mine. I returned the look of sadness and horror, but mine was worn with memories behind it. O’Keefe eyes shone with new fear and sadness, whereas mine was tattered and old. O’Keefe had not yet known the horrors of war, I guess that’s why the men didn’t reciprocate his concern. We all had seen much worse than a few men being shot in the head.

What an odd statement to make. To realise.

O’Keefe’s reaction was only natural, but for us it wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was a sad reality to think we were accustomed to the horrors we had seen.

We finally pulled into the little town. The men quickly departed the trucks, getting orders from the Lieutenants. We weren’t staying the night, just stopping for a break, before continuing on in our journey.

“I have to go on a patrol through the woods.” Don said as he approached me. I nodded my head, giving him a smile. There wasn’t much for me to do here, we weren’t unpacking, so I hung around the officers in case they needed me for something.

“Ok, be safe.” I placed a kiss on his cheek. I watched as he walked away joining the rest of the men he was going with.

—----------------------------------------------

“Emily! Guys! Hey, have you seen any of the officers?” Frank yelled from behind us. I turned to face Perconte, his normal playful expression filled with urgency.

“No.” Babe, Lieb and I all stated.

“Is everything ok, Frank?” I asked the man, my face changing to concern for my friend. He had been on one of the patrols. Everyone else had come back from theirs except for their group. But Frank was by himself, where were the other men? Even Don had come and gone, saying they hadn’t found anything. Frank didn’t answer me though, sprinting from one soldier to the next, asking the same questions.

I watched him, my brows furrowed and lip caught between my teeth. Babe and Lieb seemed to have brushed off the odd interaction going back to the conversation they were having.

“Ain’t that right, Em?” Babe nudged me, but my gaze was still fixed on Frank running around frantically.

“Em?” Lieb asked, clicking his fingers in front of my face.

“I think something’s wrong.” I told them, my stomach churning. I felt unsettled, something not sitting right in my gut.

“He’s probably fine.” Lieb said, lighting his smoke, taking a deep drag from the cigarette. “Don’t look so worried, Emmy.” He tried to reassure me, stroking his hand down my back. But I shook my head. I set off after Frank as he ran into one of the buildings.

“Em, where are ya going?” Babe called after me. But I didn’t turn to explain. I ran after Frank, gaining on him as I sprinted, dodging my way through the crowd.

Frank found Winters first. The red haired man walked out of the building they had been temporarily occupying. I hung back not wanting to interrupt them, but I was desperate to know why Perco was so frantic.

“Major Winters, Sir.” Frank started chasing after the officer who walked briskly towards where I stood.

“Uhh, we found something.” Perco didn’t seem to know how to phrase his words. The pair passed in front of me, I followed behind them closely, eavesdropping in on their conversation.

“We’re out on patrol and we came across this…” Frank stopped trying to find the right way to describe what he had seen.

“What, what, what, what?” Major Winters prompted Perco trying to get him to spit out what he wanted to say.

“Frank, Frank, what is it?” Winters seemed just as concerned as I did. Perco stood in front of Dick, mouth agape, trying to think of how he wanted to explain himself.

“I don’t know, sir.” He uttered, shaking his head.

At that moment my stomach dropped. I didn’t know why, but something about how flustered, confused and scared Perco looked set me on edge.

This war wasn’t pretty, hell no war was. But there were horrific things done, so many lives lost. There were a number of explanations as to what their patrol found, each one just as dreadful as the next.

Winters saw that too. He loaded a couple groups of men into the back of the trucks, myself included. With Frank in the front car with the rest of the officers, he gave directions back to where the patrol waited.

I sat between Don and Lieb, no one seemed to take Frank’s worries seriously. The men in the bed talked and chatted casually to each other. I sat elbows on my knees and head in my hands, I couldn’t stop my leg from jittering and my stomach churning.

We drove into the dense forest, following the dirt roads and Frank’s directions. I watched as Perco lifted his arm pointing left, my eyes followed.

My heart dropped as my eyes landed on the gruesome sight.

There in the thick of the trees, was a clearing.

Within the open space was a fence, lined with barbed wire. The tall barrier loomed over a muddy field. In the middle sat wooden huts and a bigger building sitting at the edge. Outside of the fence was a tall watch house.

I knew from the first glance what this was.

No, I knew from the smell.

That was the first thing to hit me. The stench of sweet rotting flesh filled my senses, it felt as if it clung to everything, there was no way to escape it. The men around me screwed up their noses and flinched away from the foul scent, their attention finally captured.

The chatter had died as soon as the camp came into view. From a glance around the bed I could tell a lot of the men were confused, unsure of what they were looking at. Just like Frank; they were unable to put into words exactly what they were seeing.

Within the confines of the barrier stood people. Well, they didn’t look exactly like people. I could see, even from a distance, their bodies were unfed and unwashed.

The trucks stopped, the men slowly disembarking. It was silent, as they all tried to understand what exactly they were looking at.

I jumped out immediately walking closer to the barrier. There were two fences. A perimeter between the two, enough for people to walk in. A body lay between the two barriers, gaunt and lifeless.

The men inside the gate all wore the same sets of clothes, blue striped pyjamas. I swallowed the lump in my throat, tears already brimming in my eyes.

It was one thing to learn about in school, but another to see it in real life. It all but consumed me.

Everyone else still had no idea what this really was. Eyes all filled with questions and horror.

Winters slowly approached the gate. The men inside stood waiting. I wonder if they knew if we were good or bad, but they didn’t run. They gathered around looking back at us as we looked in on them.

There were no women, no children, only men inside. But they didn’t look like it. They all appeared pale and lifeless, only skin and bone, barely moving.

The men opened the gate as everyone gathered in front of the opening.

“Major, sir?” Christenson questioned, asking if he should proceed in opening the next gate. The gate that would allow these people to be free of their confines, and allow us to enter their decimated prison.

“Open it up.” Winters commanded. The men nodded their heads, cutting off the chain that secured the compound closed.

“Stand back, back it up, back, back.” Christenson commanded the prisoners as he tried to swing open the gate.

They stepped back revealing smoking huts and even more men, ones who didn’t seem strong enough to approach the barrier.

I couldn’t hold back my tears as they slipped down my face. I looked from person to person I could see the torture they had endured etched into their features, but I’m sure that was only a second. Only a small glimpse into the years of horror they had to live through.

How many people did they have to watch die, family, friends, peers. Wondering if they were next or secretly praying that someone would just end their pain.

I wonder how long they were kept in these cages like animals waiting for their slaughter?

How could people be so cruel to their own kind?

We moved forward slowly as a group, the prisoners watched us, they looked apprehensive for a moment before they all seemed to realise we were not the enemy.

They moved forwards, hands reaching out grabbing at the soldiers who walked in. I felt the sleeves of my shirt being tugged glancing to the side to find the men holding tightly onto me.

“I’m sorry.” Was all I could manage, they didn’t even understand what I was saying but I just wanted them to know how awful I felt.

A man reached for me embracing me in his arms, I held him back. I could feel under the material of his clothes, his thin frame, I could feel every rib and bone as I hugged him.

He sobbed into my shoulder whispering in German, I didn’t understand what exactly he was saying but it sounded like he was thanking us.

“Liebgott, Liebgott!” Winters called from the front of the group. My heart stopped. Lieb, my best friend, my rock. He had no idea his own people were one of the main targets in Hitlers regime.

I watched Lipton move back through the crowd yelling Lieb’s name. Joe and Don stood guard just outside the gate, guns in hand.

Lipton brought him back through the crowd. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, he glanced over to find my gaze.

Joe tilted his head, without words he was asking me if I was alright. I weakly nodded my head still wrapping my arms around the German man who wept into my shoulder.

There was no way I could stop Lieb from finding out, and it would break him. All I could do was be there for my friend.

Lipton spurred the men into action, instructing the men to give these people rations, blankets, food and water anything we could spare.

The man holding me stepped back collapsing to the floor, I glanced around looking for water.

“Water, can I get some water over here!” I yelled, Babe moved quickly holding out a canteen for me to take.

I unscrewed the lid, pouring water into the man’s mouth. He was exhausted, as if he was holding on to the last of his strength until help came. When he knew he was safe he finally let go.

I moved from person to person, tending to their ailments. But most of them I couldn't do much for, it wasn’t like they were actively bleeding out like all the other injuries I had become adjusted to. They were sick and starving.

The only thing I could do was offer food and water. But each time I lifted my head the numbers grew, the more that gathered, the more ill they looked.

A man approached me holding another in his arms. The man in his arms looked so weak, nothing to him but skin and bone, so pale he was almost translucent.

The prisoner holding the man spoke quickly in German, his eyes pleading with me to help. I held out my arms as he passed over the very ill man.

I let out a gasp as he was placed in my arms, he weighed almost nothing, I could feel every piece of him under my fingertips.

I knelt to the ground holding the German man in my lap, trying to figure out what I could do to help him.

“How can I help you?” I muttered under my breath.

“Sing bitte für mich.” The man that lay in my arms said. I tilted my head listening to his whispered words.

“Lieb!” I called, he rushed over kneeling next to me.

“Sing bitte für mich.” The man repeated himself.

“He wants you to sing for him.” Lieb said softly. I nodded at the man, if that's what he wanted I would do anything.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey.” I sang quietly to the dying man, the song my mother used to sing as a lullaby to me.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.” The man reached his hand up cupping my face as I sang for him. A tear slipped down my cheek. Lieb sat close and watched us. His own eyes glistened.

“The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms.” The man smiled at me, more tears falling down my cheeks as I held him in my arms.

“When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken, so I hung my head and cried.” The man brushed away my tears, as his hand fell back down to his side. His breathing faded.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” A sob left me as the man stared up at the sky.

I let go of his hand, resting it by his side. I moved from underneath him, lying him gently on the floor.

Joe encased me in his arms as I sobbed into his chest. He pulled away, I looked up to find Don standing over us. He opened his arms for me, I stood from my position on the floor and moved into his embrace. His hand ran down my back as I cried.

We pulled apart, Lieb had gone and gotten a blanket. He gave it to me to lay over the man. I bent down, closing his eyes to make him at peace and gently placed the blanket over his body.

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered as I stood again. I wiped my tears away.

Lieb was called away to translate, as Don and I moved around the camp, trying our best to help the men who came to us.

We stuck close to each other not wanting to stray from the other’s side.

I kept glancing over my shoulder to find Lieb with the officers and one of the German men. He was translating for them. I was just waiting for the bomb to be dropped, the truth to be revealed.

“Everything ok?” Don asked, I shook my head.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, coming closer.

“Don, this camp. These aren’t prisoners of war.” I started, unsure of how I was going to explain this to him. His brows furrowed as he listened.

“These people are innocent. They were dragged from their homes, away from their families. The only thing they have in common is that they are different.” There were so many groups here, but anyone who was ‘imperfect’ or ‘different’ was casted out.

“What do you mean?” Don couldn’t understand that these people did nothing wrong. I’m sure his mind went to why would they lock these people up if they were innocent?

“Jews, Poles, Roma, musicians, people with disabilities, people of colour, this is who they have captured. And this isn’t the only one! There are thousands of these camps, some far worse than this. Don, Hilter wants a superior race, anyone who doesn’t fit that bill he’s exterminating.” Don couldn’t stop the horror in his eyes as he realised my words.

“You’re saying there are more of these camps? That more people are in this condition?” Don asked, his eyes flicking around our surroundings imaging more of these exact situations.

“They split up the families, women and children together and then the men together. These camps cover all of Germany and some other countries as well.” I explained the best I could to Don, who didn’t look like he was able to wrap his head around the information spilling from my lips.

“Wait, how do you know this?” He asked his brows furrowed together as he glanced over at me.

I bit my tongue, this wasn’t the time to expose my true self, all of this was too much in itself.

“The nurses have been talking about it, I didn’t quite believe it till now.” I lied through my teeth, but Don didn’t notice, he was too wrapped up in the scene playing before us.

“What are we going to do?” He asked, his sweet eyes full of sorrow as he looked over each person that walked in front of us.

“I don’t know?” I answered honestly, as I stared off into the distance.

I again glanced over to Lieb who was translating for the officers. Each man with their own look of horror and shock on their face. I bit my lip, waiting and watching.

“Juden, Juden.” The prisoner they were talking to repeated. I didn’t need to be translated, I could see it clearly on Joe’s face what the man had said.

“They’re Jews.” Lieb uttered, in his own disbelief and rage. Lieb was a loyal man. This camp, this attack, was on his own people, his family.

“Lieb knows.” I told Don who was giving water to a man. I wanted to run over and hug him, but he was keeping his composure, still translating for the officers. So I turned my back and helped the men who gathered before me.

The further we walked into the camp the more awful it became. The huts the men were living in were burned down to the foundations, burnt skeletons still resided in the ash and rubble.

“Jesus Christ!” Don muttered covering his face with a piece of fabric, the smell was so strong it almost made it unbearable to breathe.

“Look at their arms.” Don pointed out two men who lay still in the ruins. Numbers etched into the flesh on their wrists.

“Like cattle.” Babe shook his head. We walked in silence through it all.

We helped as much as we could, going into the huts and bringing people out. Each time I stepped inside, my heart clenched and cracked, it was tearing me up.

The tears had stopped long ago, there was nothing more left to cry. I just needed to help, I think at some point I switched off, just to maintain some sanity, because before I knew it we were back in the beds of the trucks.

#band of brothers #hbo war #donald malarkey #band of brothers fanfic #easy company #joe toye #dick winters #bill guarnere #emily lane #babe hefferon #lewis nixon #joe liebgott

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bloodstainedsaint · 5 months

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the sniper (joseph liebgott x sniper! reader)

summary: when you transferred from dog company to easy company following the battle of bloody gulch, you thought you knew what to expect of men in the military— though you really wanted joe liebgott to prove you wrong

word count: just over 3500

warnings: period-typical sexism & misogyny (big part of the story), very minor violence, denying feelings, mutual pining, reader lowkey has trust issues, full of other characters but hopefully no one's ooc?? also this fic is kinda messy 😭

notes: happy thanksgiving! enjoy this fic for the holidays 💞 also your favs AREN'T sexist, just confused

Gossip, you realized, was an easy way to kill time for the men of the military, especially with the recent news that there would be a transfer to Easy Company— the transfer being you, of course. You had no idea you were such a hot topic until you walked down a street of Aldbourne in search of the man currently in charge of your new company, Lieutenant Winters, and overheard a trio of soldiers discussing rumors as they sat around awaiting orders.

“Hey, have you heard that there’s a transfer coming from D-Company?” one said, lighting a cigarette.

“Whew, he must’ve not taken any smokes from Lieutenant Sparky, huh, Don?” another chuckled, stealing the cigarette out of who you guessed was Don’s fingers and puffing for emphasis, much to Don’s displeasure.

Huffing, Don continued, “He’s a sniper, apparently! Better than Shifty!”

“Nah, no one’s better than Shifty,” the third butted in. “Shifty can shoot you right between the eyes blindfolded.”

“Shifty would deny that ‘til he died, Penk,” said the second with a smile.

“It’s true, Skip! Apparently he tracked a target from 1,000 yards away and still got him in the head! Bang! Just like that,” Don said while he mimicked holding a rifle and firing.

“Psh, our boy Shifty could do that, or better: 2,000 yards, right?” Skip nudged Penk with his shoulder.

Penk shrugged. “Length don’t matter, anyway. It’s what you do with the gun, not how far it shoots.”

Skip and Don shared a look and grinned, the latter joking, “Don’t you mean distance, Alex? What, you insecure about something?”

The trio devolved into laughter and banter, but was suddenly quieted as Don patted the others and pointed at you approaching. Several other men standing nearby swiveled their heads to watch as well.

A woman dressed in fatigues, the shoulder of her uniform emblazoned with the Screaming Eagles patch, a M1 Garand slung around her back— they couldn't seem to get their mind around it. Disregarding their curious stares (you’d gotten a lot of them for the past two years or so that you've been enlisted), you walked past the group of spectators.

A couple of men whistled lowly, and a murmur spread through the small crowd. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, eyes downward in thought. Surely one of these men knows where Lieutenant Winters is. You turned on your heel toward the group.

“Afternoon,” you addressed the onlookers, who were now either standing up or gathering around in interest. Your eyes went from man to man, meeting inquisitive and suspicious stares alike, unfazed. “Anyone know where I can find Lieutenant Winters?”

“You, uh, you lost?” a diminutive man — Perconte, his name tag read — asked.

One with a strict face and a glower already etched into it — Martin — stepped into the scattered group. “Who’s asking?”

“Private (Y/N), sir,” you said with a quick salute that was returned. “I’m transferring from Dog Company to Easy Company. I was told to look for a Lieutenant Winters.”

The men exchanged a look amongst each other.

The man from earlier, Don, spoke up with awe apparent in his voice. “You’re a sniper?”

You turned to him with a curt nod. “Yes, I’m a sharpshooter.”

Then a lanky, scrappy-looking guy, Liebgott, entered with a smirk tugging upon his lips. Just by looking at his crooked smile and raised eyebrows, you knew he was going to cause you trouble. Just another man ogling at you like you're nothing but a pretty face. What else is new? “You need help getting around base?”

“No thank you, that won’t be necessary,” you swiftly rebuffed, turning your attention back to the rest of the men. You set them with an expectant look.

“You can find Lieutenant Winters over there at CP,” Randleman, a large red-headed man, said around a hefty cigar in his mouth, nodding his head in the tent’s direction. “If he’s not there, try the mess cabin.”

With a small smile, grateful that someone finally answered your question instead of asking more of them, you thanked him, saluted, and walked off.

As you started towards CP, you heard behind your back, “Did Roosevelt change something while we were overseas? ‘Cause I just saw a lady wearing paratrooper clothing with a rifle ‘round her back.”

“Very astute, George,” someone replied.

You could almost hear the smirk in Liebgott’s voice as he declared, “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Yeah, come back alive,” another voice — Skip, maybe — chimed in. “Speirs might’ve rubbed off on her.”

You only had a few seconds to mentally prepare yourself before you heard footsteps catching up behind you. Liebgott was now walking side by side with you, matching your brisk pace.

“Hey, (Y/N), right?”

You took a sidelong glance at him. “That’s right.”

“Joseph D. Liebgott. Technician 5th-Grade.”

“And is there a reason why you’re following me to CP, Liebgott?”

“Thought I’d show you around base, get to know you a little.”

“And I thought I declined your assistance,” you said firmly. “I was part of Dog Company; I'm not new around here.”

“Alright, how about introducing you to Easy men when you’re finished?” He threw a smile your way. “They’re curious about you.”

You slightly grimaced at the thought of being at the center of attention for so many strangers. “I’d rather not.”

“Why? They’re great guys. I don’t know about Dog Company men and their Lieutenant Speirs, but Easy men, especially Toccoa men, are different.”

They don’t seem all that different to me. You gripped the strap of your gun a little tighter. “Once again, I’ll pass.”

He shrugged. “You’ll warm up to us.”

A tense silence ensued. You did your best to not seem bothered by it. Usually by this point people gave up and stopped talking to you entirely.

“So, uh,” he began, running his hands through his hair. Of course you weren’t getting rid of him that easily. Your intuition earlier was right. “Why’re you transferring over to Easy? No offense, but we've got a helluva marksman already.”

“I wasn’t given a reason, just an order.”

“That so? Well, maybe you’ll take his place as our resident sniper, huh?”

“Looking forward to it,” you responded drily.

He chuckled. “You’ll fit right into Easy with the rest of the snarkers. Where you from, (Y/N)?”

You eyed him cautiously. “Lansing, Michigan.”

“Get outta here, you serious? I'm from there too!” Liebgott cracked a smile and gazed at you. “Man, I might’ve seen you around and just haven’t realized it. Could've been talking to you years ago.”

You pursed your lips. “It wouldn't have helped your chances, Liebgott.”

Grinning, he said, undaunted, “What chances? We're just talking. I wanna know the lady I’ll be fighting with.”

“You just want to know if I’m single or not. That’s all,” you icily said as the two of you neared the tent.

Apparently found out, Liebgott smiled broadly and stopped a few feet from CP while you continued walking. “Well, are you?”

You turned to face him. “Yes, I’m single, and no, I’m not interested in sleeping with you.”

You couldn’t see the smile melt off his face as you entered the tent, eyes searching amongst all the men and equipment for the tall soldier you’ve seen conversing with Lieutenant Speirs before.

“Private (Y/N),” a voice called. You looked in its direction and finally found Winters.

“Lieutenant Winters.” You saluted.

“You’re the new transfer, right?” he asked, beckoning you further into the tent for some privacy. You were thankful that most of the men here were too occupied with their own duties to notice you.

You followed him to a quiet corner. “Yes, sir.”

“Met the men yet?”

“Some of them.”

“Anyone give you trouble?” he asked gently. “You can tell me.”

You paused, thinking. Nothing past some inquisitive stares and a couple of questions. “No, sir.”

Winters perceived your hesitation. “If that changes, tell me. They're good men, but they might be a bit eager to meet you.”

You nodded. Liebgott certainly was. He analyzed your face for a second before continuing, “Try to get yourself acquainted at dinner before you go into combat with them. That’ll be all, Private.”

You saluted, knowing full well that you’ll most likely try to get a seat by yourself, away from the clamor of the men.

“Thank you, sir.”

It turned out that no seat was good enough to escape the onslaught of questions.

You had gotten there early and took a seat at the far end of one of the tables with a book in hand and not much of an appetite. Unfortunately for you, being one of the first ones there instead of a head in a crowd of people singled you out, and eventually you were surrounded by men wanting to know more.

“Hey, this is the new replacement I’ve been hearing so much about, yeah?” Bill Guarnere, or Wild Bill, as they called him, questioned, shoving himself into one of the seats at your table.

“Transfer, Gonorrhea, not a replacement,” Liebgott said from your side. When he had entered the mess cabin, you had attempted to hide yourself with your book, but to no avail. He had beelined toward you, beaming ear to ear as he slid into the seat next to you.

“You into books?” he said, eyes going from you to the book in your hands.

You thought that he might actually surprise you.“Yeah, are you?”

He scoffed lightheartedly. “What, you kidding? I love to read!”

A ghost of a smile graced your face. “What kind?”

“Oh, you know, Dick Tracy, Flash Gordon, mostly!” he said, seemingly proud of himself, and your smile disappeared.

Soon after that, people swarmed your table. If you were being fair, though, Liebgott had spoken for you for most of the night, making sure you could read in relative peace. If you didn't know any better, you’d say that he was just enjoying you being by his side, but you were still wary of any underlying intentions (let’s say, getting into your pants) he might have.

Yet, out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the way he looked at you from time to time with a small smile upturning his lips, and you wanted to believe he didn't have any.

“Transfer, replacement, whatever,” Bill brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “What I wanna know is—”

“—why she’s a girl?” Liebgott finished. “Jeez, I dunno, she’s only been asked this twelve times tonight.”

“If you’d let me finish,” Bill said with a pointed look at Liebgott as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, “I was gonna ask if she did shoot a Kraut from 1,000 yards away.”

“You’d be giving ole Shifty a real run for his money, ain't that right, Shift?” Joe — the other one, Joe Toye — said from beside Bill, reaching over to another table and shaking one of the guys there.

Shifty, you assumed, looked over and met your eyes with a kind smile. “No, no, I’m sure she's a better shot than me. Y'all give me too much credit.”

“That’s what being humble will get ya.” Bill chuckled and puffed from his cigarette. “Your spot as Easy’s best shot out from under ya.”

The table laughed, and you steeled yourself before uttering in a quiet, yet steady voice, “It was two men.”

A hush descended over the table. Liebgott turned to look at you. “What?”

“Two men. I dropped the first. The other one heard and started running. I dropped him next. Both in the head,” you relayed, without the humor of a storyteller but the gravity of a historian. You didn't know it, but you had a stony look in your eye.

Luckily, you were saved from the stunned silence by a man getting up and reciting a poem, but you could feel Liebgott’s eyes burning into you. With fear? Admiration? You weren’t sure, but you didn't dare look over.

Joe Liebgott was nothing if not persistent. For months now, he'd been lingering around you, flirting and striking up conversations with you. To be honest, you never outright said for him to stop (besides that one time in the very beginning when you said you weren’t interested), so you guessed he wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

Still, he seemed determined to get you into his bed.

“C’mon, I think we’d look cute together!”

“That’s what you think, Joe,” George said, squatting next to his friend, “Giving her heart eyes and all. Meanwhile, she looks at you like you're her next target.”

Brushing his teeth, Frank followed the other two’s gaze across the road, where you were happily talking with Bull and Shifty. He spat out the toothpaste residue on the ground beside him and said, counting on his fingers, “Seems like the only people she gives the time of day to are Shifty, Bull, Doc Roe, even Webster.”

“Who, if you'll notice,” George said, gesturing with a cigarette between his fingers, “are all quiet, reserved, well-mannered people. You, on the other hand, got a loud mouth and, uh, what’s it called, Frank?”

“A short fuse,” Frank supplied.

“Yeah, a short fuse. She probably thinks you’re trying to get into bed with her, in which case, you're shit outta luck.”

Frank said, shaking his head, “Scary, that girl. With her rifle and that look in her eyes.”

Liebgott exhaled. “But I’m not tryna just sleep with her! I even gave her some of my favorite comics ‘cause I knew she likes to read.”

“Yeah, real books, Joe— that's why she gets along with Webster!” Frank exclaimed. “You sure you didn't give her the pornos?”

George laughed. “That'd give her the wrong impression.”

Liebgott narrowed his eyes as you giggled at something Shifty said. “You’re right, maybe she doesn't like me.”

Standing up, George sighed and snuffed out his cigarette. “That’s not the point, Joe. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“Yeah, like I’m her next target? You told me already.”

“No,” George said with an exaggerated eye roll, “like she wants more outta you. ‘Cause all she's getting is the impression that you wanna fuck her.”

Liebgott stood up as well, still watching as you laughed with Bull and Shifty. George and Frank patted him on the back.

“She’s all yours, buddy,” Frank assured with a sympathetic smile. “She makes heart eyes at you too.”

There were only a handful of women selected to serve outside of something like a nurse’s position; you just so happened to be one of them, most likely because of your experience with a rifle. So, you’d gotten used to the lustful ways some men would watch you, or the demeaning ways they would taunt you. You guessed almost all of them had never seen a woman with a combat position in the military before (or by the way some of them acted, ever spoken to a woman at all).

But such men only assumed that you had earned your jump wings by sleeping around with officers. They assumed that they should be able to get in on it too, or that they should condemn you for something you didn't even do, for being unworthy and unskilled all because you were a woman.

It had always been a difficult pill to swallow: your military career would be littered with scathing remarks and crude comments, and you’d have to be strictly professional or closed-off with most men lest you’d be seen as a whore rather than just “scary”. But the hardest fact to accept was the fact that Liebgott, for all the kindness he had shown you, all the times he talked to you like you were a human being— that he most likely had the same intentions as everyone else.

As much as you relished his company, his crooked smile, his jokes, his lingering touches (and as much as you had to pretend you didn't), you had to accept his end goal was for you to warm his bed. And sure, maybe he was more dogged with his efforts than other men were, and maybe your friends in the company had told you that he was a genuine guy, but you just couldn't believe that he had anything else in mind when it came to you.

Maybe all the criticisms thrown your way had affected you more than you thought.

With the success of Operation Pegasus, Bull had dragged you (not literally, though you’re sure he could've) into a pub in the Netherlands for some celebratory drinking.

You didn't drink, and you disliked pubs; the smell of booze and drunken people was often overpowering, but at least you found quiet company with Bull. Across the room from your table, you saw Liebgott staring at you with a smile and a drink in his hand. It seemed as though he had noticed you the second you entered.

“It’s alright if I leave you alone for a second, little lady?” Bull said, chewing on a cigar like usual. “You'll be fine?”

“Sure, Bull. Go enjoy yourself.”

The large man smiled and patted you on the back before leaving to talk to some of the other men in the company.

Not one to mingle, you were only a few pages into your book when you caught the attention of an intoxicated soldier.

“Look who it is,” Cobb said to himself, hardly standing upright. You recognized his voice, seeing as this wasn’t the first time he’s derided you. “Ms. 1,000 Yards, huh. Bet the officers over at Dog Company only made up that story so it looks like you had some use.”

You ground your teeth. Typically, if you didn't give someone like him the satisfaction of an answer, they’d leave you alone. Why defend yourself and give people another word to call you: bitchy?

“What's a woman got to do in the military anyway?” Bottle in hand, he shambled towards you. “Besides suck the dicks of the men who are actually fighting.”

Steadying your uneven breath, you tried to look behind him to find Liebgott, but his body blocked your view.

Taking another swig, he spat, “That why they transferred you over from Dog Company? Those boys got their fill of you and passed you onto us, huh? Fuckin’ good for nothing slut.”

“What the fuck did you just say to her?” You heard Liebgott’s voice and felt relief wash over you.

Cobb turned around, and you caught a glimpse of an incensed Liebgott, a fierce glint to his eyes.

“Tell me what you just said to her.”

“Oh, please, Joe, you trying to get her to suck your cock faster—”

He was interrupted by a fist flying his way, toppling the inebriated man. Liebgott got on top of him and began trading punches before the surrounding men, drawn by the commotion, tried to pull him off of Cobb.

Your eyes were blown wide as you stood there, speechless. Bull found you and pulled you by the arm out of the pub.

“But what about Liebgott?” you said, peering behind you.

Bull shrugged and did the same. “Seems like he was winning anyway.”

That night in your billet, all you could think about was the fury that twisted Liebgott’s face into one you only saw on the battlefield.

And it was all for you.

The next day, you searched for Liebgott at breakfast, the table feeling a bit more empty without him taking up his normal spot beside you, but he had found you first, as he usually did.

“Hey, (Y/N), can I talk to you for a sec?” he said, his hand on your shoulder. You turned around in your seat and were met with a slightly bruised Liebgott, a small cut across his nose. Concern filling your chest, you nodded, and his hand held your wrist as he led you out of the mess hall.

“So, uh, about last night,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes searched yours for how you felt about him bringing it up, but he found no hints in your unreadable expression. “I’m sorry for fighting Cobb for you. You're a strong woman, you could handle him yourself—”

Smiling at his uncharacteristic hesitance, you cut his apology short with a peck on the cheek. You pulled away and saw his temporary surprise.

“Thank you, Joe. I appreciated you standing up for me. It means a lot.”

His face broke into the widest beam you've ever seen.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked eagerly, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could even process what they were. “Shit, sorry, that was too soon—”

You answered his question by tenderly holding his bruised face with your hands and bringing his lips to yours. You could feel him grin into the kiss as he pulled you closer, and your heart just about melted.

Maybe you had gotten Joe Liebgott all wrong from the start.

“Great, he’s never gonna wash that cheek again!”

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #hbo war #hbo war fanfic #easy company #101st airborne #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #joseph liebgott x reader #joseph liebgott #joseph d liebgott

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mads-nixon · 7 months

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hi everyone! welcome to my band of brothers & the pacific side-blog! my messages and ask box are always open, so shoot me a message anytime you feel like it. also, requests are now CLOSED for the pacific and bob!! you can find the request guidelines below!

request guidelines | gifsets/icons

xoxo,

mads :)

Band of Brothers

italics - wips

Eugene “Doc” Roe

- At Last

- Break the Distance

- C'est Toi (Soulmate!AU)

Joe Liebgott

- Of Course It’s You

- Liebling

Floyd Talbert

- “The Night of the Bayonet”

- I’m Here (oc)

George Luz

- Home

- Old Friends

Dick Winters

- Winter at the Winters'

- Meine Liebe

Ron Speirs

- Keeping You Safe

- For Me

- Knight in Dirty ODs

Lewis Nixon

- Here With You

- The Vow

- Timeless

- Epiphany Series Masterlist

Johnny Martin

- Follow You Anywhere

Headcannons

- Nix When He's Sick

- Dating Eugene Roe

- Post-War Harry Welsh

The Pacific

Robert Leckie

- Crazy

Bill "Hoosier" Smith

- You Before Me

Eugene Sledge

- See the Good

Headcanons

- Hoosier Dating an Extrovert

- Chuckler Dating an Artist

- Chuckler Dating a Medic

Masters of the Air:

You can find things from gifs to fics, and posts about the flyers and ground crews in Masters of the Air on my sideblog, @major-mads!!

comment or message me if you want to be tagged in anything!!

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next-autopsy · 5 months

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A/N: Well, hi there! Please enjoy this offering, I love reading your comments, so feel free to drop one for me. Thanks for reading x

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: hmmm....none really?

Tags: @malarkgirlypop, @panzershrike-pretz

Made of Glass

Chapter twenty four: Perfect Timing

“Run that by me one more time?” If the whiskey Frankie was drinking hadn’t cost so much, she would've spat it out after hearing those words form Bernadette’s mouth.

“Don’t be weird about it. Joe and I are just going for a walk or something. I’m only telling you so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped, okay?”

“Uh huh….’walk’… sure. Have fun.” Francesca smirked, she did not for one second believe Birdie and Joe were going to end the night with a simple walk.

Birdie waved off her friend, rolling her eyes at the insinuation. The woman made her way back to Liebgott, who was waiting for her right where she left him.

“Everything good?” He spoke when he saw Birdie approaching.

“Yeah…” The pair began heading for the door, “So, where are you taking me, Joseph.” They hit the cool outside air and Birdie wondered which direction they should start walking. Was is presumptuous of her to head back to the barracks? Joe turned to the right, so she followed.

“There’s this place down the road, real nice for dancing… I figured you'd enjoy a proper spin and not whatever that guy was doing…” He joked, chuckling before letting his mirth slip, becoming somewhat serious, “You can call me Joe, ya know?”

“I know… but Joe is Joe.” She was referring to Toye, it was eerie calling them both the same name, especially after realizing she had feelings for one of the men, while the other was like family.

“Well, only my mother calls me Joseph.” Spoken matter of factly. Hearing the formal version of his name after not hearing it for so long was bizarre.

“Then you can beee….” Birdie thought for a moment, finger on her chin, “Joey.”

“No. No way. No one calls me Joey, that’s stupid.” Lieb looked over at the girl, her bottom lip pushed out comically as she puppy dog eyed him. It took two seconds for him to cave, “Fine, you can call me Joey. But if any of the guys start up that nickname, I’ll get you.” His threat was a joke, he wouldn’t actually do anything. Maybe he just wanted something special between them.

“Ooo I’m so scared, Joey.” Bernadette taunted, a wide smile plastered on her face.

“Yeah, you should be.” He watched her grinning at him and felt lightheaded, he mirrored her dopey look before abruptly stopping in his tracks.

“Here, this is the place.” He looked up at the name marked above the door, just to be sure. He had been to this pub a few weeks before with Tipper, Floyd and Grant, who had instantly found women to fling around the dancefloor, while Joe sat at the bar wishing she was here.

And tonight, she was.

“Fancy.” Birdie deadpanned. The place didn't look like much, dim and dusty. The entryway was not well kept and while Birdie didn’t typically mind, she enjoyed banter with the man who brought her here and wanted to poke fun at him a little. He understood her jest and smiled at her,

“Hey, don’t judge a book by its cover and all that.” Joe swung open the door and the muted chatter livened up. As Birdie stepped inside, she heard the swing music more clearly and grinned. She loved to dance, with the right partner, of course.

“Come on, I’ll get you a drink.” Joe steered her towards the bar, they were both nervous, a drink would help ease them into the situation neither of them ever thought they would be in.

“Whiskey?” Joe queried, even though he knew the answer. He noticed the southerner would accept most beverages, she wasn't really picky, but if she had a choice, the lady would always go for a whiskey.

“Neat.” She confirmed, somewhat stunned, how did he know her ‘go to’ drink? “Here.” She offered him some folded up bills to cover her drink and some, but he shook his head.

“You're kidding, right?” Eyebrows raised, “Put it away. I’m not taking your money, doll.” The nickname made her breath hitch. She had not expected that from him, yet it sounded familiar, like it was an everyday occurrence.

“Doll?” It was her turn to raise her eyebrows.

“Well, if you're gonna call me Joey, I gotta have a nickname for you.” She didn't argue, the warmth in her cheeks and dizzy feeling in her stomach wouldn't allow it. She could accept the pet name; doll, but only from him.

After sipping away and finishing their liquid courage, Joe extended his hand to her, “Dance with me?”

She paused for a moment, trying not to seem too eager, before accepting his invitation.

The music that played was fast and upbeat, Birdie was sweating by the end of the first song, though she enjoyed it more than her previous dance. Joe knew what he was doing on the dancefloor, the steps came naturally to him, like he was born for this.

Both soldiers were glowing, this place had really brought out a euphoric feeling and it showed. Smiles never left their faces as they spun around each other, stepping quickly and holding hands the entire time.

Joey and Birdie had sat at the bar having danced through several songs and eventually growing tired. They didn't even order another drink, they just sat and chatted, sharing their pasts, presents and futures.

Birdie learnt his five siblings' names: Mary, Elizabeth, Anna, Barbara and Stephen. She found out he had worked with his father (also Joseph) at a barber shop and then drove cabs after getting his license, he told her that's what he wanted to do when he got back to the states, driving wasn't just a job for him. Joe really enjoyed it, seeing the streets he grew up on and meeting all sorts of unique people. She knew he lived in San Francisco and was beginning to fall in love with his depiction of the city; she wanted to see it for herself.

Joe had asked her about her family, which she gladly yapped on about. He understood the closeness she held with her relatives and he found himself wishing he could meet them all one day. Bernadette proudly spoke of her new goddaughter; Gracie and Joe’s heart warmed at the thought of Birdie cradling a newborn. She went on to tell him about her childhood on the ranch, being raised with real live animals in her care gave her a great sense of responsibility.

It was well past midnight when the barkeep called for the last drink, the music was cut off and patrons started trickling out of the building, swaying their way home.

Their talk was cut short when the barkeep all but shoved them out, shaking his head at the pair before shutting the door in their faces, muttering about young couples.

Birdie checked her watch, it couldn't have been that late, they had only been there…. Five hours?! How had that happened? It was just past 4AM and neither of them had slept yet. Plus she and Joey had up and left all their friends and disappeared, there were bound to be some invasive questions. Birdie did not look forward to Toye and Guarnere’s reactions nor any of the ladies, especially Frankie.

“Joey…” She sounded out softly, gaining his attention. He turned to look at her and froze, the only light came from a nearby street lamp and the moon. The silvery glow did wonders for her. Joe wished he had a camera so he could document the events of this night, the dancing, the chatting and now her standing in the middle of a barely lit street with the moonlight reflecting in her eyes; he never wanted to forget it.

“It’s really late.” She spoke quietly, the world around them was asleep and she didn't want to risk waking it.

He could kiss her. It was the perfect moment, they had just shared an amazing evening, growing closer. And now, he was looking at her and she was looking at him and all he wanted to do was lean down and kiss her. Feel how soft her lips were, taste her and allow her to do the same.

He glanced down at her lips and back to her eyes, watching for recognition, did she feel it too?

Birdie saw his silent inquiry and her eyes widened, pupils dilated. She, too, flicked her gaze to his lips and back up, telling him to proceed.

It was the perfect moment and as Joe moved to lower himself to her, she let her heels raise, ever so slightly, onto her tiptoes to meet him halfway.

“Heeyyyyy. I know y-you guys- two. Both of you two. I know yoooou.” They broke apart, the trance worn out at the interruption, fading into embarrassment.

Nixon stumbled toward them, missing entirely and toppling over into a heap in the middle of the road.

Immediately, Bernadette was by his side, picking him up off the floor and attempting to balance the inebriated man. Nixon babbled incoherent nonsense, only one or two words could be understood. Joe would have laughed at the lieutenant but he was still processing the almost kiss.

She had leaned in, hadn’t she? Did he imagine that, surely not. No, she definitely would’ve kissed him back if only they had a few more seconds.

“Little help here, Joey?” Her voice called to him. Shaking his thoughts away, he joined her on the other side of Nixon, ducking under his arm and hoisting him up.

“Where are we taking you, lieutenant?” The question wasn’t answered as Nixon flopped over, unable to give the directions to the house he was billeted to.

“I know where we can take him. It’s not far.” Birdie told her Joey, and they set off down the road with the drunk held between them, pretending nothing had changed.

Except everything had. It was all either of them could think about, the almost kiss.

Birdie was lost in her own world. Should she have allowed it to get that far? They had both been drinking, surely the ability to think clearly had been blurred somewhat. Had he really wanted to kiss her or was he just tipsy and lonely? Did she really want to kiss him or was she just convinced she had a crush on the man? Was everything going to be weird with them now? Had this night messed up their friendship?

The house she was looking for came into view, she pointed it out to Joe and they brought the semi unconscious man to the doorstep, before she stepped forward, leaving Lewis to be held up by Joe and raised a hand to knock.

“Wait.” Joe whispered, “what if we wake someone?" Birdie gave him a pointed look and knocked at the door thrice.

“That’s kinda the point, Joey.” He just smiled at her use of the new nickname, that was a good sign. He hadn’t told her to stop using it or started to pushed her away, so maybe whatever was happening between them was still salvageable.

The front door swung open and revealed Richard Winters, he was bleary eyed and in his pajamas.

“Birdie? What are you doing here? It’s…” He checked his watch, “0440!” He then seemed to notice the two men behind her, one slumped over the other and sighed.

“Bring him in.”

A/N: ooo okay things are getting interesting! What do y'all think? Do you like the nicknames? I'm still not sure how I feel about them...

I guess Nixon has some perfect timing... Joe and Birdie- not so much

~ Nex ~

Chapter twenty five

Update: I haven’t been writing for a few days, I will be starting up again soon though so don’t think I’ve abandoned this story! Just having a little break, love y’all!

#band of brothers #easy company #hbo war #made of glass #band of brothers fanfic #fem oc #ocs #joe liebgott #made of glass chapter twenty four #next autopsy #richard winters #lewis nixon

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1waveshortofashipwreck · 4 months

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Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 1: The Fall

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Synopsis: What will happen when some of Easy Company's finest soldiers fall through a foxhole and into another time?

Words: 1,314

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Author's Note: HERE WE GO LADS!! The first chapter of my self-serving BoB time travel fic!! If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know !!

Luz was the last one to arrive on the ground, immediately crashing into Malarkey with a resounding thud… Well, resounding for someone as small as Luz. He was the last to drop onto the pile of Easy Company men - a giant pile of limbs, helmets, and olive drab was groaning in pain, bewildered eyes darting in every direction. One minute they were dropping into a foxhole in Bastogne. The next?

Winters was the first to jump to his feet, helping his men find their footing. Up came Nixon, Liebgott, Roe, Guarnere, and Bull Randleman. Speirs and Toye had gotten themselves up and situated, looking to make sure they had all their gear. Luz was still on the ground, trying to get his bearings, while poor Malarkey was doubled over underneath him. “FUCK, LUZ!” Cried Malarkey, his hands shooting to his ribs as his body folded in pain. “I think you broke something!” Malarkey’s feet rammed themselves into Luz’s back, flinging the soldier off of Malarkey and onto his stomach with an “oof!”

“You say that like I did it on purpose!” Luz cried, wincing from the boots in his back. By the time George finally got his feet beneath him, Roe was already looking at Malarkey’s side, inspecting his injury.

The Cajun grimaced and shook his head. “It might be broke, Malark. We should get you to the aid station,” Roe spoke thoughtfully. "Which way sho-" Before the medic could finish his thought, all the boys realized something. They had no idea where they were.

The boys all looked around and took in their surroundings. “Where the fuck are we?” each soldier thought to himself, attempting to find a single scrap of familiarity in the landscape around them. The higher they looked, the taller the walls on either side of the group grew - not tall enough to be skyscrapers, but tall enough to tell the ten men that they were not in Bastogne anymore. What was once a frigid warzone, one step away from death, now became… warm? Sunny? Well, it seemed sunny at the ends of the alleyway.

“...are we in an alley?” Bull mused to no one in particular. He absentmindedly chewed on his Emotional Support Cigar, using this to contain his anxious thoughts and energy.

"It appears so Bull…" Winters replied. He had intended for the sentence to be more assuring, but the men's leader was just as confused as the rest of them. The captain exchanged a glance with Nixon beside him, the only man he was comfortable sharing his worry with. The two looked at each other, their eyes conveying confusion mixed with anxiety - how could this happen? What exactly happened?

"Captain Nixon, you're an intelligence officer right? Do you know where we are sir?" Guarnere asked as he slung his rifle over his shoulder, still taking in the alley around them. The brick buildings on either side of the men provided shade from the sun shining down on the pavement. The alley appeared to be barren, save for a Hershey bar wrapper beside Luz's feet. Bending down to get a closer look, the radioman saw a piece of text on the wrapper that morphed his confusion into panic - "expires January 2023." Before Nixon could answer Guarnere, Luz's shaky voice spoke up.

"Um, Captain Winters? You might wanna see this sir," Luz said as he handed the wrapper to his CO, his mind going a mile a minute. Dick took the wrapper from George and saw the text, scrunching his face as he read the expiration date.

"Nix, how long does it take chocolate to expire?" Winters asked, looking up at his captain.

"Why the hell do you think I'd know that?" Nixon replied, one eyebrow halfway up his forehead. Only after Lewis posed his question did he see the infamous date on the wrapper. Nixon paused for a second before he spoke up, "well surely it would expire way before 2023…"

Upon hearing the year, every man's eyes became the size of dinner plates. "Excuse me, sir? I think I heard you wrong, sounded like you said 2023," Liebgott questioned, a nervous chuckle following his words. He couldn't have heard Nixon right…right? Winters simply handed the wrapper over to Liebgott, the poor man's stomach dropping down below his feet.

"That's not possible, this isn't possible…" Toye muttered under his breath, trying to shake the idea from his head. While all the men were trying to process what Nixon said, Speirs had already made his way to the end of the alley.

"Captain Winters!" He called out, twisting his body to call out behind where he was standing. Winters nodded to Nixon, a silent request to keep an eye on his men, before making his way down to Speirs. The warm sun at the end of the alley was a welcomed surprise to Dick - it felt like forever since he felt mild, comfortable weather. Bastogne was the literal manifestation of hell frozen over, and the sun kissing Dick's skin was its absolute anathema. "Sir, I don't think this is Bastogne," Speirs' comment shook Winters from his mind, reminding the captain of the problem at hand. The two took in the scene around them. Winters thought he was seeing cars - they had four wheels, and they were driving on the street, but they were far beyond any car anyone in the company has ever seen before. The soldiers seem to have landed in a city of some kind. All the street signs were in English, giving Winters a small amount of relief - wherever they were, they spoke the language. Something different stood out to Speirs, though… the noise. It was not bombs exploding and trees breaking like in Bastogne. It was just as loud, but more…lively? The sounds, whatever they were, seemed to celebrate life rather than take it - honking horns, vehicles driving by, music Speirs had never heard before blaring from their windows - he would never admit to it, but Speirs felt a pang of relief knowing he was not in a war zone.

"I'm inclined to agree with you, Ron," Dick replied before hearing their medic call out.

"Sir! We need to get Malarkey to the ai- uh… I guess a hospital," Eugene called out as he made his way towards Winters and Speirs, supporting Easy's other redhead on his shoulder. Malarkey's face twisted in pain as he held his side with the arm that was not slung over Roe's shoulders. Dick nodded in understanding at his medic and stepped a foot out of the alley, getting a better look at the buildings around him. To his right, Winters spotted the red cross universally associated with medicine displayed prominently on a tall, light-colored building riddled with mirrored windows. Beneath the cross were the words "Emergency Room."

"You think they can help Malarkey?" Speirs asked, hopeful but confused at the words. Seeing Roe holding up Malarkey, the officer quickly made his way to Malarkey's other side, taking his arm over his shoulder to help the soldier.

"It's worth a shot, wait here," Winters replied, heading back to the rest of the men to tell them the plan. "Alright men, there's a place that looks like a hospital a short walk from here. Keep your guard up. Just because it doesn't look like Bastogne, doesn't mean we're in friendly territory," he instructed the six men before him, "Keep Speirs, Malarkey, and Roe in the center, I'll lead the way to the hospital." A chorus of "yes sirs" was heard from Luz, Liebgott, Guarnere, Toye, and Bull, while Nixon nodded in understanding and walked up beside Winters.

"Are you sure about this?" Nixon asked under his breath, ensuring only Winters heard his question.

"Got any better ideas?" Dick replied, cautiously emerging onto the sidewalk. The men left the safe haven of their alley and began the trek to save their friend.

~~~~~

Chapter Two

Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me what you think and be on the lookout for Chapter 2: the Hospital!!

Taglist: @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @executethyself35 , @stolen94 , @dontirrigateme

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footprintsinthesxnd · 4 months

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I’ll Wait For You

Hey anon, thank you so much for your adorable request. I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you enjoy. The best way to kick off the New Year? A Eugene Roe fic of course. Happy New Year everyone! Warnings: mentions of injury, family death, destruction of homes, themes of war, weapons.

Eugene couldn’t remember the last time his heart hadn’t been pounding out of his chest. Ever since they’d jumped on D-Day his heart had been beating like a trapped bird flapping its wings against his ribcage. He didn’t know whether it was fear or adrenaline; or both. He could safely say that he was scared, many of the men wouldn’t admit it and as their medic, he wouldn’t show it, but he was scared, scared for himself and his friends. It was normal to be scared. Yet Eugene had never seen anyone as scared as the large blue-eyed civilian girl looking up at him and Liebgott.

“What do we have here?” Liebgott had all but sneered, pointing his M1 at a terrified civilian. Eugene felt himself smacking the gun away from her, “Leave her be. She’s a civilian. What da hells wrong wit’ you.”

Liebgott quickly lost interest in the situation once Eugene took a protective stance in front of her, and hurried off to join Webster and a few of the others that had crowded in the square.

“It’s all right. I won’t hurt ya,” Gene spoke softly as he knelt beside her, his hands raised and his eyes not leaving hers. She backed further away from him, tears trickling down her cheeks as she mumbled something.

“What was that? Whatcha say?”

The girl mumbled again and Eugene’s demeanour quickly softened. She didn’t understand English, of course, she didn't, she was speaking French.

“C'est bon. Je ne te ferai pas de mal,” Eugene spoke again trying to reassure her he was no threat and this time the girl looked up at him, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“Tu parles français?” She asked, no longer looking as though she was about to fly out of the nearest open door.

“Je suis à moitié cajun. Toute ma famille parle français,” Eugene explained, glad that he was able to calm her down in her mother tongue. He could only imagine the horrors she had witnessed and then hiding in an abandoned house during the siege on Caretan too. He could only imagine.

“As-tu une famille? Que faites-vous ici?”

She shook her head and he wondered if he’d crossed the line by asking too much about her family.

“My family are all dead. I came here to be with my Aunt but the Germans had got to her first,” tears began to trickle silently down her cheeks again and Eugene felt himself reaching forward to place his hand on her shoulder, she didn’t pull away, instead leaning into his touch.

“I have no one left,” she muttered and now it was Eugene’s turn to look shocked.

“You speak English?”

“A little,” she admitted, “not a lot.”

Eugene couldn’t help but smile at her. She truly was pretty, her eyes striking against her pale skin, and despite the soot that covered her cheeks Eugene didn’t think he’d ever seen a girl so beautiful.

She moved a little and let out a small whimper which caused Eugene to lurch forward. “Are ya hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” she lied, clutching her calf which was now smeared with blood, her other bloody hand raised against her chest protectively.

“What happened to ya?” Eugene asked, digging into his musette bag and pulling out a sachet of sulfa powder and a bandage. He didn’t hesitate to wrap the bandage around her thigh, pushing her dress out of the way without a second thought. She was a patient, so why should he treat her any differently, although his growing red in response told a different story.

“Tu es très doux,” the girl mused, watching as Eugene’s hands worked quickly, wrapping her leg securely. Eugene hummed in amusement, no one had ever told him he was gentle before, certainly none of the other paratroopers. “It’s true,” she repeated and giggled as Eugene’s cheeks blushed a deeper shade of red. He quickly moved on, bounding her hand, avoiding her eye contact as she watched him work.

“You should be all set,” Eugene leaned back on his feet. “Can ya try and keep off it for a few days at least?”

“I can try but I’m trying to get to a family friend's house. It’s only a few miles down the road. I’m hoping they will take me in,” she looked down at her scuffed shoes, unable to face the truth that she really was alone now.

“How about we give ya a lift? We got plenty of trucks. I can ask the Lieutenant,” Eugene added hurriedly, he didn’t know why but he desperately wanted to help this girl and yet he didn’t even know her name.

The girl just nodded, watching as Eugene stood and hurried away.

A few days later Eugene found himself passing by the quaint town they had dropped the injured girl off to. He was busying himself in an abandoned barn patching up one of the young Private's shoulders. The boy was whining and moaning at the mere flesh wound and Eugene found himself losing patience with him.

“Will ya just stay still?” Eugene grumbled, pushing his elbow firmly into the boy to steady him. The boy continued to complain but Eugene ignored him, too caught up in his work. The other paratroopers often commented on how he generally focused on the wound instead of the patient, of course, he offered words of comfort when required but he felt the attachment unnecessary. Eugene had never intended to be a medic, it was thrust upon him during training and so he had embraced his calling. He would hold the lives of his fellow paratroopers in his hands, thus denying him the ability to become attached, because if he became attached, became their friends, their brothers, well it would make it all the harder when he lost them.

A muffled voice behind him caused Eugene to turn, seeing the familiar figure in the doorway. He dismissed the private, instructing him to rest as much as possible. He whipped his hands in the spare cloth he carried, “How’s da leg?”

“It is okay. I try to rest it when I can,” she smiled at him and Eugene found his heart beating a little faster.

“Good. That’s good. How’s da hand?”

“It is good too,” she laughed, limping across the barn towards him with a basket tucked under her arm. “I was looking for you. I wanted to thank you for the other day, for your kindness.”

“Please, there ain’t no need. It’s ma job,” Eugene protested but the girl silenced him, placing her fingers to his lips.

“No, your job is to look after the soldiers, looking after me was an act of kindness.”

Eugene blushed, his eyes going cross-eyed as he watched the placement of her finger on his lips.

“Thank you,” she quickly removed his finger and pecked his lips. It was barely a kiss, his mind barely registering the action before it was over. The blush covering their cheeks and the smile on both their lips meant everything.

“I also bought you some food, it’s not a lot but you can share it with your friends if you wish,” she passed the basket towards him and Eugene gratefully accepted.

“Your kindness is too much Ma’am, how will I ever repay ya?”

“You saved my life, it is I who should be in your debt,” she replied, a delighted smile playing at her lips, as Eugene thought of a reply.

“Well, what about if I write to ya and umm… you can write to me too if you’d like,” Eugene watched nervously as the girl thought over his proposition.

“Oui. I would like this very much,” she grinned at him, before throwing her arms around his neck. “And maybe after the war is over you will come back, back here to see me again?”

“Of course, if you’ll wait for me.”

“I will wait for you,” she replied adamantly, nodding her head and Eugene felt himself smiling again. He’d never felt this way before about anyone but this girl he’d stumbled upon seemed to change that and he didn’t want her to leave.

“Wait! Ma’am, I don’t even know ya name. Will ya at least tell me that?”

She smiled at him mischievously before replying, “Write to me first American Boy, then I know you are true to your word. Then you may have my name.”

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#eugene roe x reader #eugene roe #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #easy company

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