#hbowar x reader

[mads-nixon]

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

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#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

[buckyegans]

Bucky insisting on serenading his date

⭑ YEAHH this is so good i’m so sick over this man. thank you for requesting!

⭑ no warnings except language and alcohol + drunk bucky but what’s new?? gender neutral.

 The atmosphere was relaxed—smooth jazz played ahead of you. You tapped your foot to the beat of Irving Berlin’s ‘Blue Skies’, sipping at your drink. It wasn’t often you got to relax through your busy schedule—so, you laid back and enjoyed yourself for once. Most officers danced in time to the song, girls at their arms. Others sat and smoked, making hushed conversation. Then, there was Bucky Egan.

 He was next to you, struggling to sit still. He’d already had a couple of glasses of whiskey, but he’d been mostly tolerable for the majority of the night. Beside him sat Buck Cleven, whose fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle of Coke, enjoying the music just as much as you were. Bucky looked around, eyes meeting yours for a split money while he grinned. His brows shot up as he flashed his teeth, before he was leaning back towards his best friend, head practically resting on the blond’s shoulder.

 “Hey—you know what this is missing?” asks Bucky, taking a big sip of his third whiskey.

 Buck’s eyes flickered to him, a hint of annoyance apparent. “Nothing?” Bucky responds, brows knitting together as he turned back to watch.

 “Vocals!” Bucky exclaimed.

 Buck shook his head. “No, John—”

 “I’m gonna sing!” Bucky said, sitting up. Buck was quick to push him back, not even batting an eye. Bucky huffed, straightening his uniform. He looked around, leaning forward around Buck to one of his friends. “Should I sing?” he asked.

 “No.” he was quick to say.

 Bucky looked defeated for a moment, but that didn’t deter him. He leaned over you, to another man. “Hey! Should I sing?” he whisper yelled.

 “No?”

 Bucky’s eyes flashed to yours. He repeated the question, practically leaning into you. Your eyes widened with amusement, and you could see Buck shaking his head slowly from over Bucky’s head. You sighed. “No, Bucky. I don’t think so.” you said, patting his shoulder.

 Bucky leaned back into his seat, and sighed. “Yeah. Alright. Okay. You’re right.” he said aloud, relaxing back into his chair. Then, his hand met the armrest of his chair, meeting the beat of the song. He looked like he was holding back belting into song right there—then, he was yelping something out, pushing himself out of his chair.

 Bucky stood in front of you, dancing backwards, eyes on you. “It’s my song, guys!” he exclaimed, shuffling backwards with a grin on his face. Buck watched in horror, jaw dropped. You cringed for a moment, watching as Bucky snatched the mic, hunching over to get close to it.

 Then, he was singing. Loud and out of tune, Bucky Egan’s voice boomed throughout the hall. All you could do was sit there and watch, and somehow pretend you didn’t know him. Then, Bucky was pointing to you, singing in your direction.

 Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me, you thought. “Nothin’ but blue skiiiiies, from now on!” Bucky sang out, hand outstretched to you. Your brows shot up, face pink with embarrassment. You turned to look at Buck, who was already looking at you, hand over his mouth.

 “Are you kidding?” you whisper yelled. “Go get your friend!” you exclaimed, trying to hide.

 Buck shook his head. “No way. He’s singing to you. In front of everyone.” Buck stated, laughing to himself. “Well, I guess you gotta go up there.”

 Seriously? you thought. Without a reluctant huff, you pushed yourself out of your chair, downing your drink in one go. This man was going to be the death of you—you knew that much.

#bucky egan #bucky egan x reader #masters of the air #masters of the air imagines #hbowar #hbowar imagines #callum turner #john egan

[speirslore]

band of brothers officers: dating hcs

a/n: hello! this is my first post but ive been lurking in the bob fandom for a while & i'm soooo excited to finally join... i have a bunch of other ideas and drafts i want to post soon :) this includes the officers: winters, nixon, speirs, lipton, + buck, please lmk if anyone would be interested in more of the boys! i made it vague but the reader is implied to be a part of easy company in some capacity

[dick winters]

he is a very private person and shy... like his ears go bright red at the mere mention of your name which easy company takes full advantage of

you think it's incredibly sweet

it takes a while for him to have confidence when interacting with you in the beginning... he feels inexperienced and that you couldn’t possibly be interested in him

it's a slow burn for sureee

like men getting out of the hospital that come back to the company are immediately like "so are they finally together??"

there are bets on when and where it will finally happen

luz's theory is one of you has to confess when you all jump into berlin at the end of the war... the perfect hollywood ending

it ofc doesn't happen like that; it's a slow process of building trust, it's a mix of quality time and acts of service

the quality time can be hard to come by during the war but dick is determined to check in with you: small, reassuring smiles and touches, finding each other in crowded rooms

it's very private, he doesn't want to jeopardize either of your careers or reputations, but ofc lew knows the details (but the entire company basically knows?)

and lew is good at keeping secrets.. he's the intelligence officer ofc (as he constantly reminds the two of you)

a lot of wrapping his arms around you pulling your back to his chest, resting his chin on your head or shoulder

maybe even a quick smooch

kisses as rewards for him finishing all the action reports he has to do

omg then in austria... things definitely change... and it's easier to label what you have.. dick can finally relax (to some extent), and it starts to feel like more of a normal relationship

all the men are so happy for you like he's had 20+ wingmen this entire time <3

[lewis nixon]

another one that i think is definitely slow burn... but once he finds out he's getting divorced...

even before that, lew's humor always made you feel more comfortable and at ease

he has always gravitated towards you

definitely gets clingy

lovessss sleeping with you like insists that sleep is extremely important for a solider and he sleeps sooo well with you

it's literally impossible to escape his arms when you're sleeping... leg thrown over you, arms wrapped around you

the most comfortable you've ever been fr

the ungodly amount of sexual tension before you get together... oh god.. one time the officers are all playing poker; welsh and lipton just look at each other when lew's leg kicks yours under the table or you lean against his shoulder

like oh god... not again... they're telepathically planning their escape

all the tension, stares, touches, long talks you've had reach a boiling point as lew becomes more jaded by the war and he finds out abt the divorce

you instinctively want to take care of him and you're definitely worried about him... you have a lot of convos with dick trying to figure out the best way to approach and help lew

words of affirmation are very important to him... i think his initial instinct is gift giving but that's difficult with the war.. and he doesn't feel connected to that, it's just what he's always known

if he gets too drunk, you stay up monitoring him and you really don't mind and just knowing you're there for him makes him v emotional:

like you make him feel like there's hope and a future after the war... and he's been thinking that for a long time but finally says it laying on your chest with your hand running through his hair

you help him shave which eventually ends in making out (a lot of things you guys do devolve into that)

he's your poor little meow meow but in the best possible way

[ron speirs]

ngl the attraction was strong from the start and it didn't take long for you to fall for him... by england before your first drop you both already fell hard

everyone is in disbelief that the rumor is it's YOU that he's seeing

everyone thinks you're a total angel and then... speirs.. it's just tht absolutely none of the men can imagine him being soft or romantic

wants you all to himself... is very good about making free time to be with you

unintentionally hovers

and very subconsciously touchy

has to fight himself from grabbing your hand instinctively

like he can know where your platoon is, where you're dug in but still will make rounds just to have peace of mind and know you're okay

just like all the other rumors, ron doesn't really care about clarifying his relationship with you

oh but if he ever heard a man talking disparagingly about you... just one silent stare and the soldier wouldn't even look at you again

omg def the type to carry around a collection pictures.... those are his prized possessions fr

like a pocket in his uniform just full of very pretty (and private) pictures <3

there's a few wholesome ones too.. like when the two of you had a 48 hour pass to scotland... but others (most of them) not so much

and ofc if you ever need anything... like you need a new watch? he has one for you in a few hours

he truly does love gift giving...

i also think physical touch is a huge love language for him

+ i think like pillow talk, just late night talking with you letting him rant and get everything off of his mind is so cathartic for him

and he really appreciates feeling like you understand him and you want and are willing to listen

[carwood lipton]

definitely the wholesome mom and dad couple

usually, most definitely, attached at the hip

always has a hand on the small of your back, or shoulder, arm, etc, he likes the reassurance of small touches and knowing definitively that you're next to him

i have a very self indulgent headcanon that he likes whenever you kiss and thumb over the scar on his cheek <3 makes him feel less self conscious

okay so lip takes care of everyone else but who's taking care of him?!

guys will come to you bc they know carwood will listen to you if you're the one who tells him he has to rest and take it easy

omg.. and if you're married... he's always twisting and playing with his ring just to remind him of you

has multiple letters from you stuffed in one of his uniform's pocket

he has all of the words memorized by now but just physically holding them is so comforting

quality time and acts of service are HUGE for him

and alone time can be so hard to come by... but anything he can do to make your job and tasks easier... he will do

and vice versa ofc

everyone else watching like wow .. relationship goals fr

anytime he leaves and you're split up for a few days... you always have a dramatic reunion jumping into his arms

a lot of fantasizing about your future together... because it feels so close.. but also so far away

[buck compton]

fraternization rules?? what rules?

has absolutely no shame to be at the bar playing darts, hands all over your waist

and showing you off, dancinggg

just feeling a little silly and goofy... making out at the bar

and everyone is hyping you up

i think at the beginning of the war, your relationship is newer and fun... neither of you are really thinking about something serious

i think physical touch and words of affirmation are huge for him

as the war progresses, the thought and fear of losing you grows, especially after he saw so many of his men suffer/die

and he realizes how much he cares about you...

you comfort him after bastogne... a lot and even though it can be extremely melancholy, hearing you talking about your life pre war, and your life together in the future keeps him going

insisting to him that he'll have to show you california and ucla

writing to him constantly after he's taken off the line.. giving him updates on all the men

in austria, when he returns, watching him play baseball with the boys feels absolutely perfect

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #dick winters x reader #lewis nixon x reader #ron speirs x reader #buck compton x reader #carwood lipton x reader #hbowar imagine #band of brothers headcanon

[footprintsinthesxnd]

With All My Heart

Summary: Let’s be honest who doesn’t enjoy a fluffy Dick Winters fic. I just can’t help myself. I also went for a header for this fic instead of a moodboard, I’m not entirely sure why but I quite like the aesthetic and i didn’t want to give too much away for the fic. Pairings: Dick Winters x f!reader

Eugene sighed as he watched Y/n gag again, spitting out the remainder of her breakfast in spluttering breaths.

“Y/n, I’m real worried about ya. This ain’t normal, Chérie,” Eugene’s forehead creased as he smoothed the loose strands away from her face. Y/n gave him a weary smile, her eyes watery from the effort. The nausea had come in a sudden wave and she’d just made it outside, out of view when she brought up the contents of her stomach. Luckily, it had been only Eugene passing by otherwise she’d be in real trouble.

“Gene, I’m fine. I promise,” she tried to reassure him but Eugene didn’t look convinced, his handsome features set in a harsh glare, which reminded Y/n of the look he’d given Winters and Welsh in Holland after Moose had been shot.

“You need to tell him sooner or later. I suggest sooner because if what we’re told is true we are bound for the Pacific. I can’t let you jump out of a plane in your condition…”

“Would you keep it down, Gene? I don’t want the whole company to know,” Y/n hissed.

“Or Major Winters apparently,” Eugene added nonchalantly. You always hated it when the Cajun medic was right and he always took great pride in correcting her.

“I’ll tell him Gene, I promise. Just give me some more time would you.” Eugene nodded begrudgingly. She knew he meant well but she was still trying to figure out the situation herself. The last thing she need was for Dick to hear the news from the likes of George Luz or Nixon.

Y/n entered the temporary mess hall shortly after Eugene, having recovered from her early episode and took her seat between Webster and Talbert.

“You’re looking a little green there, Darlin’,” Bull commented from across the table and Floyd reached across to rest his hand against her forehead.

“You’re a little bit warm Y/n. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Floyd asked, which caught the attention of George, Liebgott and Webster who we’re all looking on expectantly.

“I’m fine. I promise,” Y/n tried to reassure them but just at that moment Chuck and Shifty walked by with more plates of food and the nausea began growing in her stomach again. The pair took their seat next to Floyd and Y/n fought the urge to run from the room, digging her fingernails into the wooden table to try and keep herself grounded.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Webster asked, at this point, Y/n realised she must look like she was going to be sick because Webster and Floyd both shuffled to the side a little.

The bile rising in her throat answered that question, “No!” Y/n felt her legs carrying her from the hall, hurrying down the steps and outside before her stomach erupted again and she felt herself choking on her stomach acid. A hand was placed on the small of her back and she tried to shake Eugene off again but he wouldn’t budge.

“Gene, I said I’m fine,” she spun round to face him but was face-to-face with the five officers.

“Y/l/n, are you feeling okay?” Dick asked, trying to keep a straight face but concern was evident in his eyes.

“I…I’m fine… umm Sir,” Y/n felt herself saluting the officers and they all just stared at her in confusion.

“You don’t look fine,” Nixon commented, seemingly amused by watching his friend try and fight the urge to comfort the woman he loved.

“No, you look like shit Y/l/n. Get yourself to see Doc Roe,” Spiers suggested and Y/n nodded.

“I will, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

The other four officers continued towards the mess hall but Dick stayed outside, watching to make sure they retreated before turning back to Y/n.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He reached forward to touch her cheek but she flinched away, wiping her mouth in the sleeve of her jacket. “Talk to me, please. You’ve been avoiding me and I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.” Dick looked defeated, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes watched her sadly. Y/n hadn’t realised the effect her disappearing acts had on the Major. He was hurt.

“You haven’t don’t anything wrong, Dick,” she began but the tears were already beginning to trickle down her cheeks and she could no longer contain the choked sob that spilled from her lips.

“It’s all my fault,” she wailed, balling her hands into fists to cover her face. Dick was by her side in an instant, his arms wrapping securely around her frame.

“Whatever it is, we'll get through it together. You never have to hide from me,” he whispered into her hair but this only allowed for more tears to form in her eyes.

“No, you’re going to hate me,” she blubbered and Dick smiled at her softly, the corners of his lips turning upwards as he fought back a grin.

“I could never hate you. I love you, never forget that.”

Dick placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her into the main house and up to his office, his hand never leaving her back and just that comforting touch helped to dull the emotions slightly. Once inside Dick’s office, he guided her to a chair and sat her down, kneeling before her, he placed a kiss on the palm of her right hand.

“So what is it? What’s wrong? Are you sick? Have you seen Doc Roe?” Dick’s questions came in a flood and Y/n barely had time to process them.

“I’m sorry,” Dick apologised, realising he was rambling like a madman. “Take your time.”

“Oh Dick, why are you so perfect?” Y/n asked, running her fingers through his red locks, as Dick blushed the colour of his hair.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, no longer able to hold back the secret she’d been keeping for months. Dick’s face was every shade of grey before he finally spoke, “But how? When? How long have you known.”

“Well, I think you should know how Major. You know that night in Haguenau when we umm… on the desk and umm… and Captain Nixon walked in and…well you get the idea. I’ve known for about two months

“Two months! You mean you knew all this time and you didn’t tell me,” Dick's face was creased with lines of worry, hurt shining in his eyes and Y/n could feel the nausea growing in the pit of her stomach again.

“Dick, I’m so sorry. I was just scared that you’d hate me a-and you’d hate this baby… I’m so sorry,” Y/n could no longer control the floodgates that burst forth under Dick's hurt gaze but his eyes soon softened. Y/n could feel him pulling her towards him, his large hand pressed against the small of her back as he whispered, “I could never hate you, Y/n. I love you.”

Y/n froze in his arms, pulling away from the Major to look at him, “You mean that. You mean that, you’re not just saying it because of the situation.”

“No Y/n,” Dick replied earnestly. “I should have told you sooner. For Pete’s sake, I should have told you every day since Toccoa because I’ve loved you every day since Toccoa.”

Dick’s smile was infectious and soon the couple were laughing in each other's arms. “As for this little one,” Dick placed his hand gently against her slightly rounded stomach, “well I already love them with all my heart.”

“Oh Dick, I love you so much,” Y/n leaned forward, sealing her lips to Dick’s, as her hand found its way to card through his hair.

“Hey Dick, did you see… oh for Christ Sake will you two just get a Goddamn room.” Lewis Nixon’s exasperated voice rang out through the otherwise quiet room, his booming personality pulling the couple apart quickly.

“Lew, if you hadn’t noticed we keep getting a room and you keep barging in,” Dick retorted, straightening his uniform shirt as he spoke.

“Toché,” Lewis replied, waving his hand at them, “Carry on.”

Dick smiled at Y/n as Lewis slammed the door loudly behind him. “Right, where were we?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n replied, grinning mischievously, “But I recall that last time there was a desk involved.”

“Oh really,” Dick grinned back at her, “Well maybe I could refresh your memory.”

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @historyisfullofwars @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @mutantmanifesto @malarkgirlypop @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @whollyjoly

#band of brothers #dick winters fluff #dick winters x reader #dick winters #HBOwar

[b00ks1ut]

I Got Your Back

Eugene Roe x GN!Reader

Warnings! Alcohol consumption, harassment, blood, mild violence, swearing, mild injury, my attempt at writing lol, I’m really hoping I got all the big stuff

This is based only off the tv series and I intend no offense to the real men of Easy Company or any veterans

Sorry if this is bad! I had such bad block while writing this and for some reason it’s taken me like 4 months to complete this short little thing😭 anyways I’m hoping it’s not horrible!

Also this was written for @executethyself35! Thank you so much for being so amazing and I’m so so sorry this has taken 5 and 1/2 years lol You’re amazing and literally the best <3

The bar was loud and stuffy and crowded, but it was fully of paratroopers, what did you expect? You were sat at a little round table, crowed with too many men; most now at least tipsy and all thourally enjoying the rare weekend pass that Sobel didn't take from them.

"You need another drink?" Eugene barely had to lean over in his chair to reach your ear due to the cramped situation that was your table.

"Oh, yeah. I'll get 'em this time, you got the last ones." You told him turning towards the medic sat next you, your noses nearly touching, and you had to almost lean back to stop yourself from bumping into him.

"No, I ain't gonna make you do that." He began to reach for your now empty glass but you quickly stopped his hand from fully grasping the cup.

"Please, I've gotta spend all this extra paratrooper money," you joked, pushing his hand away and giving it a quick squeeze. You quickly stood and grabbed his mug, not giving him a chance to object.

You had made it hardly 6 feet away from the occupied table, through the impossibility close crowd, when an unknown man had stepped into your path. You had attempted to step around him but it was no use, this man was a wall unwilling to move.

"I'm sorry is there a chance you could move please?" If he wasn't going to read your very obviously uninterested body language then he could hopefully read you as equally uninterested lips.

"Now how about I don't do that and instead take you home?" He was handsome in his own way, he definitely wasn't ugly but was certainly not your type.

"Oh no thank you, I'm just trying to get a couple of drinks for me and friend." You again tried to step around him but he kept moving in a step in front of you. You looked around hoping to catch someone's eye but for how many people were the damn bar you couldn't seem to catch the eye of a single you knew. "I'd really appreciate it if you just let me get my drink."

"How about if I let you get your drink, you'll owe me a drink." He was smirking to himself like this normally worked for him, intimidating people into dancing and sleeping with him. Now that you thought about it, maybe he wasn't just not your type; maybe he just wasn't everybody's type so he had to resort to this sad creepy behavior that definitely was getting him nowhere.

"They don't owe you a damned thing." The familiar Cajun accented voice had reached your ears before you were even aware he was nearby. "How about you get a move on now and we'll all have just a fine and dandy of the night."

"I don't think so no." This man was either the biggest piece of shit or was denser than fuck and you were certain it was the former. Before you could think of a response he had grabbed your arm and began trying to pull you away. As if it were second nature you took the glass in your hand and brought down hard on his hand.

The glass shattered. Pieces flying in all directions but most of the pieces finding their home in the back of the man's hand.

"You fucking whore!" He had quickly ripped his hand away cradled it in his other hand.

"I'm the whore here? I'm not sure what Not want to have sex with you makes me a whore but if it means you'll leave me alone then I'll make it a badge wear it on my uniform." You weren't sure where this attitude was coming from and you had nothing else to blame it on than your last few drinks and the current adrenaline racing through your veins.

The man was still standing there dumbstruck when you turned around to find Gene standing there. His eyes scanned across your face before leaping down the arm the man had just grabbed you by.

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes became increasingly more concerned when he noticed the cuts on my arm from a few stray pieces of glass. His eyes flicked back to yours.

“I’ll getcha patched up.” He hadn’t left any room for argument but you might as well try.

“I’m alright, it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.” But by the time the reply had left your lips Eugene already had your hand in his and was walking towards the door.

“You can’t just leave them glass pieces in, it’ll never get better.”

“Fine, I’ll take your word for it.” Why complain when the most attractive man you’ve ever met was asking to take care of you. Only an idiot would pass that up.

Cool dark of outside was a welcome change from the stuffy pub and you relished in it, not having had a break from the heat of George in a while.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was just a low rumble and you weren’t sure if you were imagining it.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he had now turned around and faced you, still holding your hand. “I shoulda gone with you to get drinks and I shoulda done more. I just-“ He ran his other hand over his face before rubbing the back of his neck.

“Gene, you have nothing the apologize for. I was the one who insisted I get the drinks, I was the one who couldn’t get myself out of the situation. It’s on me, not you.” You gave his hand a squeeze and his arm a little tug, causing him to finally look at you after staring at this boots this whole time. “But none of that matters anymore, he’s gone and now there’s nothing to worry about.”

“What about your arm? I can’t let you just ignore it.” He was looking at you with such concern and care and all you could do was stare. Yeah staring is rude but how could you not? His short hair was sticking up in different places from him running his hands through it and the light from the bar was casting a beautiful glow that made his eyes sparkle in a way you never saw them before.

He was gorgeous. Not that you’d never noticed this before, but the realization hit you like a truck and it completely stole your breath; he stole your breath.

“Ma joie?” His voice brought you back, a flush spreading across your face.

“Huh? Sorry.” You realized you were still holding his hand, and finally let it drop. The warmth of the rough skin of his was quickly wicked away by the night air.

“Where’d you go?” He was looking at you like you mattered, like you were more than a body. More than a number. More than the shell that Sobel had been working you down to.

“Sorry… um just distracted. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you need help with your arm.” His eyes left yours to flick down to the still bloody and leaky cut of your arm.

“Oh. I can handle it on my own.” You were kicking yourself the moment the words left your mouth. The best man you’ve ever met wants to take care of you, and you can’t seem to let him.

“I really was just askin’ to be nice but there’s no way I’m letting you take care of this yourself. And I’m especially not letting you make your way back to base when filth like him are around.”

“I can hold my own, I was just wasn’t trying to make a scene in there.” You didn’t know why you kept making these excuses for him to leave you. You didn’t want him to walk away, every bit of yourself wanted to jump on him but a bit of you was too scared of just a little bit of rejection to have him just patch you up.

“I’m not doubting that you could but I am worried you might be a little drunk and that if I don’t help you get that arm cleaned up you’ll be nice and infected in a week.” He had a point, a good point he made a few times now. And what is there to be scared of with him. Eugene Roe is quite possibly one of the kindest most caring people you know what is there to be worried about, if you messed up and made a move he would react completely responsibly.

But for some reason you kept fighting it.

“I just don’t want to be a bother. Go have fun, Gene, I didn’t mean to upturn the night. I’m sure everyone is waiting for you in there.”

“Nope. Not a chance I’m leaving. You’re stuck here with me, and it’s cold and dark so while I’d love to continue this amazing little conversation I really think it might be our best interest to start the trip back to base.”

I was obvious he was done with the back and forth so you let it drop.

—————————

It wasn’t long until you were back where you needed to be. All of the light posts were turned on but no one was out and about save for the few drunk-ish men stumbling from barrack to barrack. Many of the lights to the cabins were on and laughter and conversation could be heard from the people within them.

Gene grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dark, unlit medic tent. The walk a short and easy trek through the mazes of buildings, as he seemed to know where the tent was and could get you there with his eyes closed walking backwards.

You quietly arrived to the temporary shelter and are met with… nothing. No noise, no startling smell; just more dark. And the awareness that you’re all alone with Eugene.

He continues to tug you over to a table set up in the center of the room. A few crates next to them that he immediately begins to rummage through.

“Can I help with anything?” Your voice cuts through the quiet, just barely above a whisper.

“No, I got it.” He pauses briefly to look at you, never really stopping his hands from sifting through the supplies.

“Eugene, please. I want to help you, how can I help? Even just a little bit, I feel like I’m just in the way.”

“You can help by sitting yourself up on that table there and letting me take care of you. That’s all I ask, that you let someone take care of you; even if it’s just this one time.” His tone was soft, his accent showing through the caring tone. He had grabbed all of the items from the crate and was just staring at you. Looking at you.

Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Gene set the supplies on the table and stepped to you. His thighs brushing your knees

Everything about him was stunning. From his heavily disheveled hair all the way down to his spit shined boots, he was perfect.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice had come out uneven and hoarse, barely audible even in the quiet evening.

“What for?”

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me all night and I keep pushing you away. I don’t know why, I think I’m just scared. I mean… we ship off in just a few weeks and then anything could happen. I can’t go getting attached to anyone; especially you.” You averted your gaze to the ground so you wouldn’t have to see his face when he realized what a horrible coward you are.

But, instead of him lashing out and leaving you his hand gently came to your chin, tilting back up, forcing you to look at him again.

“I don’t blame you for that. We’re all terrified, but what’s the point of being here if we’re not going to make the most of it while we can. Why die regrettin’ what’s right in front of you when you all you gotta do is reach a little and grab it. I’m scared that some of the best people I’ve met are not going to come back and I might be included in that but I’m also scared that I’m not gonna take the beautiful opportunity I have right now… with you.” His gaze was soft and gentle. He looked quickly at your lips before taking a small step back. “But I should probably patch you up first.”

“I’m fine.” You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him to yourself until your lips met. Eugene didn’t move, he stayed completely still. You quickly pulled away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t ask. I just assumed-“

His lips swiftly covered yours. You returning the affection. His lips soft and gentle against yours, still tasting of the ale he left back at the pub.

It was all over before you could completely let yourself get absorbed into him. His soft breaths fanned over your face as his forehead tenderly connected with yours.

“Can I get you fixed up now?” A playful glint in his eye, and a blush so bright you could still see it in the dark, adorned his face.

“I suppose I’ll allow it.” Your smile morphing into a smirk.

He picked up a pair of tweezers, from the pile he had set next to you, pinching them at you jokingly.

“Let me know if I hurt you.” He gently grabbed your arm by the elbow and maneuvered it to where he needed it. The contact from him, although little, had a fresh blush creep up your neck.

“I’m sure that I’ll be fine.”

You soon learned that was not true. Once he had gotten all of the biggest pieces out of your arm, his search for the tinier shards started. You tried to muffle your winces but everyone he’d stop and wait until your face had returned to neutral.

“Ma joie, please let me know when I hurt you. I don’t have much left to get but I hate to be hurting you, so let me know so I can stop it.” Gene had set down the tweezers so he could hold your hands.

“I’m not hurting. I’m completely fine.” Your lie was obvious but he was doing enough for you already that why would you interrupt his process just because you’re not completely comfortable.

“Alright then.” He picked the tweezers up again and got the last few pieces out, still pausing whenever you flinched a little too hard. He then proceeded to do the most gentle cleaning and wrapping ever performed in history. He rinsed out the area, dabbing away all the water like if he pressed too hard your arm would fall off. Then he wrapped it all up in a sterile bandage, asking if it was too tight every two wraps around your bicep. “All done!”

You went to slide off the table but his hands held you in place. “I thought we were done?” He just stared, emotion clear in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you again?” You surprised yourself with the question. You had been thinking the thought since it happened the first time just 30 minutes before.

“Of course you can.” His hands came up to your face, cupping your cheeks and lead you together.

I was the same but different from the first kiss. This one wasn’t hesitant or awkward as you tried to find your placement, you meshed perfectly. Your lips moving over each others in perfect harmony. Little puffs of air from his nose tickling your lashes, and the way he smiled into the kiss had you melting into his hands.

Your arms went up his chest to his shoulders, stopping to loop around his neck; your fingers curling slightly into his hair. All of Eugene was surrounding you, his smell, his taste, his entire presence was all you could comprehend in the moment.

He eventually pulled away, breathing heavy. Eyes slowly opening back up to look into yours.

“Thank you.” You don’t know why you said it. You were saying for the man that left you alone when he arrived. You were saying it for the bandage snuggly tied around your bicep. You were saying it for the breath taking kiss you just had. But most of all you were saying it for the man that was going to be there for you in every moment he could be.

“I got your back; through it all.” He squeezed your hips, his eyes never leaving yours.

“And I yours.”

#eugene roe #eugene roe x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #gn reader #hbo war #easy company #hbowar

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 7- Loss

Summary: Easy Company is stuck in Bastogne and is succumbing to the cold harsh winter. Despite this, things are looking up! They are due to take the town of Foy and finally be done with the dreaded winter.  Easy returns to the front line in the forest just outside of Foy. You experience your first real loss due to a senseless accident. This sends you down spiraling into a dark place, and Joe is the only one that can pull you back. 

A/N: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFem!Medic, post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/F/N, Y/L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Mentions of death, Confrontation, Military Terminology, 1940’s slang, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Yiddish to English Translation, Descriptive Wounds/Injuries, Blood/Gore, Smoking, Banter, Pining, Consensual Physical Contact/PDA, FOREVER FLUFF 💚 This chapter continues from

1x6 Bastogne then transitions into 1x7 The Breaking Point

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

~~~~~~~ 

Adrennes Forest, Belgium 

January 2, 1945 

Easy company combed through the trees of the forest in the relentless cold near the target town of Foy.

Eventually, Easy encountered sporadic machine-gun fire causing a few casualties. After Hoobler’s kill shot of a German on horseback, he finally gets a Lugar and comes back to the guys to show it off to them.

LT Compton and Lipton are having a chat about where LT Dike has disappeared to while Malarkey and Shifty are digging a foxhole nearby.  

“-I haven’t seen him all day. I didn't see him coming through the woods, and I have to figure out how we ended up with-” 

Lipton respectfully interrupted Buck, “-Two wounded.”  

“Who?” Buck asked concerned stopping in his tracks. 

“Brown and Stevenson.”  

 “Goddam it-” Buck looked away rolling his eyes, “Where’s Dike!? Where the hell does he ever go?”  

“-I don’t know, but I wish he’d stay the hell there.”  You chime in approaching the first sergeant and LT. 

“Hey, Y/L/N.” Lipton greeted. 

“Would be nice if he took LT Shames with him, too-” Malarkey added. 

“-Shut up, guys.” Lip cautioned. 

“Shutting up, Sarge.” Malarkey acknowledged. 

You nod to Lip before addressing Buck, “Sir, Brown and Stevenson are stable. Me and Doc got them all patched up and ready for transport, they’re gonna be fine.” You report. 

Buck gave you an approving nod, obviously relieved. 

Suddenly a single gunshot sounded off too close for comfort and you all scrambled to the nearest half-dug foxhole with Malarkey, Shifty, Lip and Buck. 

“Patrol?” Malarkey asked. 

“No, we would’ve heard.” Lip replied. 

“One man...maybe a sniper.” Buck added. 

“That was no rifle.” Shifty confirmed. 

“What do you see, Shift?” Buck asked. 

“Nobody out there.” Shifty said. 

“Are you sure?” Buck questioned. 

“Uh-huh.” 

One of the guys came running up. “Ah Jesus, it’s Hoob! He’s shot!” He yelled out. 

“Sniper!?” Buck called back. 

“Nah, nah, he—he shot himself. MEDIC!”  

“Jesus Christ, I’m right here!” You shouted out over Lip’s shoulder as you leap out of the hole running. 

You get to Hoobler with Perconte kneeling over him. 

“It’s my fucking leg!” Hoobler cries out. 

“What happened!?” Lip asked. 

“What were you doing with a loaded gun in your pants!?” Buck asked Hoobler finding the Lugar next to him. 

“It just went off! I wasn’t touchin’ it or nothin’! I wasn’t touchin’ it, I swear!” Hoobler responded panicked. 

“Hoob, hold still dammit, I gotta cut the pants!” you bellowed at him as calmly as your voice allowed.  

You lift the fabric away from Hoobler’s skin where blood soaked through his right thigh and began feverishly slicing through his uniform. It was clear by the color and saturation of the blood that he hit the main artery. 

“It hurts like a son of a bitch!” Hoobler shrieked. 

“We gotta pack this to make it stop.” you think outloud more so to yourself.  

You pull off his belt in one fleeting motion and apply it above the wound as a tourniquet and start tightening it. Hoobler lets out a cry of pain and starts rocking side to side. 

“Goddam it, hold him down! I can’t get this tight enough to stop the bleeding if he’s moving around like that!” you tell the other five men present. 

You secure the belt, then dump your bag to get the sulfur and clean gauze to start packing the bullet wound. 

“Keep him warm!” you tell them as you dash the sulfur onto the thigh and start stuffing with the dressing. 

Doc rushed in sliding onto his knees next to you. 

“Let me see it.” Doc said pushing Malarkey aside, “Y/L/N, let me get in there so I can get the bullet out.” he said noticing you were becoming fatigued. 

Doc shifted over and started working Hoobler. Buck removed his coat and put it across Hoobler to keep him warm. 

The guys started talking to him to keep him from passing out. 

“How we doin’, Doc!?” Buck asked nervously. 

“I can’t see a thing. We gotta get him back to an aid station.” Doc stated. 

“Well let’s get ready to move him then!” you say with your voice shakier than you had intended. 

Doc still frantically working on the leg, the rest of the boys suddenly fell silent. 

“-Doc...Doc!” Buck barked. 

Eugene looked up to see Hoobler laying lifeless.

Lip and Doc stare in horror panting, trying to catch their breath. You stand over all of them with a blank stare, lost in your own thoughts over what had just occurred.  

“Dead...all because of his ‘treasured’ fucking Lugar...’” you thought to yourself. 

This revelation made you angry. Your emotions began to boil over as you voiced your recent thoughts outwardly. 

“All because of a precious Lugar!” you roared.  

The six men look at you startled. You met their shocked gazes with your eyes filled to the brim with tears. As they start to spill over, you continue. 

“Didn’t even need a fuckin’ Kraut to do it for him, did he!?” Your voice cracks as you ask them rhetorically, gesturing towards Hoobler. 

The men all look down at the expired soldier. 

You inhale loudly, tilting your head back and sniffling to try to keep the discharge from expelling from your nose. (Not very lady like). 

“Malarkey,” you say sharply in a motherly tone, side eyeing him.  

Don snaps his head up to look at you, jaw slightly slacked waiting for you to speak, “-if I fucking catch you risking your life looking for a Lugar after today, I will shoot you myself.” you stated harshly. 

Don nodded and looked back down as you turned on your heel and stormed off. 

~~~~~~~ 

Later, Lipton found you spaced out in a foxhole by yourself. He approached cautiously, recognizing the distant look on your face and not wanting to spook you. You sensed his presence and looked over at him with emptiness in your eyes. 

“Hey, Y/F/N.” he began. Your face remains as you looked straight ahead again. 

Lip sat on the edge of your foxhole, allowing his feet to dangle inside. 

“You ok?” His voice was gentle and worried. 

You only nod. 

“Listen, uh, when you’re ready, I need you to come with me to Captain Winters to explain what happened. Just, whenever you’re ready, k?” he waited, “You know where to find me.”  

It was only until he started to walk away you found whatever voice you had left. 

“Sarge, we can go now.” you call out as you slowly make your way out of the hole. 

As you stand before Winters and Nixon retelling the story, your voice begins to strain fighting back anger and choking down tears.  

“Hoob had so many layers on him we couldn’t tell how bad the bleeding was, sir.” you pause and look down at your boots, “He was already gone by the time we got him to the aid station. The bullet went through the artery.” you finished. 

“It wouldn’t have made a difference if you had known.” Nixon tried to assure. 

You look at him perplexed; your face twisted up with that same rage beginning to rise in your chest. 

“With all due respect, that’s where you’re wrong, sir.” you raise your voice, still trying to maintain your customs and courtesies towards him. 

Winters, Nixon and Lipton shared wide eyed glances. 

“Y/F/N, maybe you should-” Lip began. 

“-No! This was avoidable. If Hoobler hadn’t had that Lugar, he’d be alive now!” you stated bitterly. The men were speechless as you continued 

“I hear the guys go around talking about what fucking trophies they’re going to bring home from this ‘Kraut’ or that ‘Jerry,’ and you know what, sir? It makes me sick to my stomach! Do you know Perconte hasover a dozen wrist watches from dead German soldiers he’s been collecting since Normandy!? At least!” you pause to look away, to shield the view of your tears. 

You release along sigh, “And now, because of a stupid German handgun that he considered a “trophy” is the reason that Hoobler is dead. No trophy or treasure is worth that.” you concluded shaking your head.  

You look back at the three men with your glossed over eyes, waiting for a tentative punishment for not asking for permission to speak freely before going off. 

Winters, Nixon and Lipton exchanged concerned glances. 

“Y/F/N,” Winters approached you, “I’ve been noticing for awhile that the weight of the war has been anchoring you down. It gets to all of us at some point, so it’s fine to get it off your chest. As long as you keep pushing forward and lean on the guys for support.”  

“Just make sure when you lose it that it’s only with us. I don’t think Sinks would put up with that.” Nixon joked. 

You scoffed flashing a weak smile at him. 

“You’re doing good work with us. Nobody has any complaints.” Winters added. 

You nod, “Thank you, sir, that means a lot coming from you.” you replied. 

“In the meantime, go find Liebgott and stay with him until you’re smiling again. That kid always has something to say that makes the guys laugh.” Nixon said with a wink. 

“Yes, sir.” you respond with a slight grin before leaving the three men under the tarp overhang. 

~~~~~~~ 

You didn’t go to Joe, though. You went back to your foxhole to be alone. As the sun was setting, the air became chillier, and you found yourself uncontrollably shivering. You started to regret not finding Joe to get some extra warmth from him in his foxhole.

And as if he heard you thinking about him, Joe appears crouching over your foxhole. He remained quiet for a minute to see if it was safe to join you, but you keep your face buried in your folded arms covered by your wool blanket. Joe thought he heard you either whimpering or crying, but as he leaned in closer, he discovered you were actually humming a song to yourself.  

“Hey.” Joe said softly. 

You look up at him with tired blood shot eyes, red nose and peeling chapped lips. You had been crying silently in that hole all afternoon and you knew Joe would know. You attempt a weak smile then rest your chin on your knees.  

Joe hopped in and plopped down next to you. He studied you for a few seconds then nudged you with his elbow. You side eye him without any additional response. 

“I just talked to Lip-” he began.  

You looked down. 

“-He asked me if you had come to see me. Had to tell him no. He told me what happened, and that Nixon told you to come see me.” he continued. 

You remained quiet, shifting from your chin to your cheek looking away from Joe.  

Liebgott moved closer to you putting his arm across your shoulders. His closeness made you tremble. You wanted to lean into his chest to get warm, but you stayed put. 

Joe tilted his head, “Why didn’t you come to me, Gams?” he asked, almost sounding offended. 

His fingers gently gliding back and forth on your shoulder, he anxiously waits for you to answer him.  

“I-I don’t know...” you muttered as you sniffled. 

Joe reached for your shoulders to turn you towards him. You rotate entirely around as his hands guided your face to his. You finally look at him with tears cascading down your cheeks. Sensing how distraught you still were, he pulled you into him, embracing you tightly as he leaned against the dirt wall. You curl into him resting your head right over his chest. 

“I gotchyu, doll-” he reassured then kissed the top of your head. “I’m right here.” 

Joe held you, allowing you to soak his coat with your tears while you silently bawled as you wrap your arms around his torso, holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, so he occasionally planted a kiss on the side or top of your head while kneading your back or arms to give you any sort of relief. 

This lasted for awhile until you were drained of tears to shed. You shifted upward to lay your head into the crook of Joe’s neck to be as close to him as possible. 

“So,” Joe started, “did you really tell Malark that you’d shoot him?” he asked. 

For the first time all day, you laughed. Your laughter is music to Joe’s ears as he embraces you tighter then kisses your forehead. 

“I sure did.” you respond, your voice raspy and strained since you hardly said a complete sentence for hours. 

“Pretty sure you scared him out of looking for that Lugar for his nephew.” Joe stated. 

“Good.” you responded. 

He rested his chin on top of your head. 

“What were you singin’ anyway?” he asked. 

You sighed, “Tu-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral.”  

“Tu ra what?” Joe laughed trying to look at you. 

You giggle, “By Bing Crosby? From the movie ‘Going My Way?’ You don’t know it?”  

“Ah sure, I think I’ve heard it once or twice-” he responded while pulling you in closer, “-maybe you can refresh my memory?” he added. 

“I don’t know, Joe, my voice is shit right now from crying.”  

“Sing quietly then. Come on, for me?” he urged winking at you. 

You couldn’t resist the man. You obliged him with a gentle grin. 

🎶“Tu-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral-” you began subtly, “Tu-ra-loo-ra-li...”🎶  

You softly serenade Joe the Irish lullaby until you drift off to sleep in his arms. He stayed with you overnight in your foxhole. His steady heartbeat and rhythmic breathing soothed your inner turmoil, allowing you the deepest sleep you’ve had in months. 

~~~~~~~ 

You wake up sometime in the middle of the night, looking up to see Joe knocked out still holding onto you as he was before you fell asleep on him. 

You move your head up and press your lips into his neck, gently placing a kiss right over the scar left behind from the wound at crossroads. He shuddered, then woke up alarmed, looking at you with hooded droopy eyes. 

“Heeeeey now, Gams-” he cautioned flashing a half-concerned expression. “Whaddya tryin’ to do?” he said through a yawn with a nervous laugh while rubbing his neck where you had kissed him. 

“What?” you respond partially entertained by his reaction. 

He looked at you skeptically, “Come on, you know whatchyu did.” he rebuked, taking an opportunity to stretch. 

You shrug at him with a coy smirk. He smiled at you cynically.  

“You keep doing that shit and we’re going to have to find something to cover this foxhole, so nobody sees what I’d like to do you.” he stated, his voice gravelly and low.  

You gasp as you back off him, “Joseph Liebgott!”  

He chuckled, “Just giving you a fair warning, sweetheart. Don’t think I won’t.” he replied with a wink. 

You felt a wave of heat rush over your entire body as you stared at him in shock by his honesty. 

You scoffed, “Noted. I’ll be more mindful where and when I put my kisses.”  

“Mm-hm...” Joe hummed side eyeing you suspiciously. 

You feel yourself blush as you bashfully smile back at him. He pulled you back onto him. 

“Go back to sleep you little tsrus (troublemaker).” he whispered in Yiddish, then kissed your forehead.  

~~~~~~~ 

#band of brothers #ww2 #hbowar #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #ross mccall #101st airborne #easy company #carwood lipton #buck compton #donald malarkey #shifty powers #frank perconte #dick winters #lewis nixon #doc roe #eugene roe #joe liebgott rabbit hole #joe liebgott sends me #joe liebgott x female reader #joe liebgott brain rot #joe liebgott x reader #medic #Spotify

[donovanlizzie]

The heart of War - Richard Winters

In the midst of the war-torn world, where Easy Company fought valiantly against the shadows of conflict, a new face emerged.

Sergeant Y/N L/N, a skilled and elusive sniper, joined the ranks of Easy Company.

Her deadly precision in the field contrasted with the serenity she carried off-duty, catching the attention of Lieutenant Richard Winters, the revered leader of the 2nd platoon within Easy Company.

On the day Y/N arrived, Sobel approached Winters with a begrudging look on his face. "Lieutenant Winters, I'd like you to meet the newest addition to Easy Company, Sergeant L/N."

Winters nodded, a polite smile on his face. "Welcome to Easy Company, Sergeant "

Sobel, unable to resist a jab, added, "I trust you'll find it an… interesting experience."

Undeterred, She met Sobel's gaze with determination. "Thank you, Captain. I'm here to contribute in any way I can."

Sobel grunted, offering a curt nod before walking away.

The two exchanged a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the challenges they would face together.

As the days passed, the atmosphere in the camp settled into a blend of wariness and routine. However, it wasn't long before Lewis Nixon, Winters' ever-playful friend and intelligence officer, seized the opportunity to inject a bit of humour into the situation.

One afternoon, as the company gathered in the mess hall, Nixon approached her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Sergeant, a word if I may?" he said, gesturing towards a quieter corner.

She arched an eyebrow but followed him, her curiosity piqued. "What's on your mind, Nixon?"

Nixon leaned in, his tone conspiratorial. "You see, I've noticed a certain someone's attention lingering in your direction."

She smirked, casting a glance in Winters' direction. "Oh, and who might that be, Nixon?"

Nixon chuckled. "Our esteemed Lieutenant Winters, of course. The man is as predictable as a Swiss watch, but we could have some fun with it."

Intrigued, She played along. "Fun, you say?"

Nixon nodded, "How about we give him a little nudge? You know, some harmless flirting to see how he reacts."

"Flirting with me, Nixon? Won't that be too obvious?"

Nixon winked, "Trust me, subtlety is my middle name. Plus, it'll be entertaining to watch Winters squirm a bit."

As they rejoined the group, She couldn't help but notice Winters watching them with a raised eyebrow. She casually leaned against a table, engaging Nixon in a conversation that bordered on playful banter.

"So, Nixon, any good stories from the intelligence front?" Y/N asked, batting her eyelashes with exaggerated innocence.

Nixon played along, feigning deep thought. "Ah, the usual espionage and intrigue. But you know, Y/N, intelligence isn't the only thing I find intriguing around here."

Winters, sensing the shift in tone, glanced over with a furrowed brow. Y/N shot him a playful smile, maintaining the charade.

"Oh, really?" She replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Do tell, Nixon."

Nixon continued with a smirk, "Yes, you see, there's this Lieutenant—tall, serious, a bit too focused on the mission. I think he could use a distraction, someone to add a little excitement to his life."

She glanced at Winters, who was now looking decidedly uncomfortable. She leaned in closer to Nixon, her playful demeanor unabated. "And who might this unlucky officer be?"

Nixon nodded discreetly towards Winters. "I see you've already met Lieutenant Winters, the man who could use a bit more excitement in his life."

She turned towards Winters, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "Well, Lieutenant, I've been told you could use a distraction. What do you say?"

Winters, caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events, blushed slightly but managed a wry smile. "I think I can handle the excitement, Sergeant."

Nixon chuckled, satisfied with the playful banter he had initiated. She shot Winters a wink before excusing herself, leaving the lieutenant with a bemused expression.

Weeks later, after enduring the hardships of battle, Nixon surprised Winters with two tickets to Paris. "I was going to take you, but I think you need these more than me, my friend," Nixon said with a sly grin.

Caught off guard, Winters hesitated. "Nixon, we can't just—"

Nixon interrupted, "You both deserve a respite from this madness. Trust me on this one."

The next day, She and Winters found themselves strolling through the streets of Paris. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance, casting a subtle glow over the city. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the distant hum of city life.

She smiled, "You know, Winters, it's strange to find such peace in the middle of all this chaos."

Winters nodded, "Paris has a way of offering solace, even in the darkest times."

As they continued their walk along the Seine, Her gaze lingered on Winters. "You're not like other officers, sir. You have a way of making people feel… human."

Winters chuckled softly, "Call me Dick when we're not on the battlefield, Y/N. And And your skill with that sniper rifle is truly admirable, almost a better shot than Shiftey"

She grinned, "I'm just doing my part, sir… Dick. and no one is as good of a shot as Shiftey"

A shared smile turned into a lingering gaze, and in that silent moment, Winters leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss beneath the Parisian lights.

In that embrace, time seemed to stand still. The war felt distant, and for a while, Paris became a sanctuary where they revealed in the simple joy of being together. The two discovered a connection that went beyond the battlefield, and in each other's company, they found solace and genuine joy.

But as the days passed, the reality of their duties beckoned them back to the front lines. With a heavy heart, they bid farewell to Paris, carrying the memories of their interlude with them.

Back in the real world, they faced the challenges ahead with renewed strength, their shared experiences in Paris serving as a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. When they returned, Lewis Nixon couldn't resist teasing Winters about the newfound warmth in his usually composed demeanour.

"Paris does wonders, huh, Dick?" Nixon smirked, earning a glare from Winters.

"We can't afford to lose focus, Nixon," Winters replied, but the subtle smile on his face betrayed the lingering glow of their Parisian interlude. " and yes - it did work wonders you sly son of a Bitch"

The two men laughed and walked back towards their barracks.

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

On VE Day, at the Eagle's Nest, as celebrations echoed through the air, Winters with her by his side. The memories of Paris lingered, and in the midst of victory, he couldn't contain the emotions that had grown between them.

"Y/N," Winters began, his voice sincere, "back in Paris, I discovered something extraordinary. It's more than the camaraderie of war; it's an undeniable connection that surpasses the chaos surrounding us. I love you and I can't imagine facing the future without you"

In the glow of victory and love, her eyes sparkled with both joy and understanding.

And so, as Easy Company triumphed on VE Day, Winters pulled her into a warm embrace, glad to have found something pure in the midst of something so evil.

As they quietly wandered around the eagles nest hand in hand, Winters couldn't help but inquire about the playful banter orchestrated by Nixon back in the camp. "And the flirting with Nixon… was that all to get my attention?"

She grinned, her eyes filled with mischief and affection. "You didn't need Nixon's help for that, sir. You already had mine."

In that moment, amid the echoes of victory and the bonds forged in the crucible of war, Winters and Y/N shared a private and passionate kiss, sealing their fate for many happy years to come.

MASTERLIST

Band Of Brothers MASTERLIST

#band of brothers imagines #hbowar #hbo #band of brothers #Richard winters x reader #richard winters #dick winters #easy company #imagines

[lostinthewiind]

Bad Influence

Ray Person - Generation Kill

Rating: 16+

"Alright, Ray, I've got that hose you were looking for." You approached the humvee and waited for Ray to pull his head out of the hood.

Sweating buckets from a mixture of the hot steam and stifling Iraqi heat, Ray looked up at you. "You brought me hoes? Where?" He whipped his head from left to right.

Unamused, you placed a hand on your hip and stared him down. "Do you want me to fix your humvee for the millionth time or not?"

"Work your magic." Ray stepped away from the vehicle and held his hands up in defeat. "I can't seem to get the bitch working."

"I don't suppose that's the first time you've had trouble turning a bitch on, now is it, Ray?" you quipped as you took over for him and began to replace the radiator hose.

Ray grimaced. "You know, I liked you a lot better when you were the quiet, sweet mechanic."

"Blame yourself for teaching me such inappropriate language then," you accused him. "I was such a nice, innocent girl before I met you."

Ray smirked as he pulled his sunglasses out of his breast pocket and slid them on. "Hell yeah, you were. I love being a bad influence."

"I'm sure you do."

While you worked away on the humvee, thoroughly coating your hands and t-shirt in grease and God knows what other lubricants Ray had used in a desperate attempt to get his vehicle working again, Ray stood by and watched. Every once in a while he would tell a joke or throw in some unwanted advice, but generally speaking, he was useless.

"Do you think when your parents popped out a perfect baby girl, they imagine a future of fixing old ass humvees in the Iraq desert surrounded by some of the most depraved men in the world for her?" he asked out of nowhere.

Wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your arm, you glared at Ray. "Do you think when your parents popped out a perfect baby boy they-" You paused. "Oh, wait. Never mind."

Stepping away from the vehicle and taking a quick break, you wiped your hands on the rag you carried in your back pocket the best you could before using the bottom on your t-shirt to wipe your face. With your lower stomach exposed, Ray let out a low whistle.

"You know, I think I've had a dream like this before," he said. Arms folded across his chest, he let his eyes trail over your body as you furrowed your brows. "Oh yeah, I've definitely had a dream like this before."

"Ray, if one more HR violation comes out of your mouth, I'm going to leave you and your broken humvee in the dust while the rest of us invade Iraq," you threatened. "Is that what you want?"

"What?" Ray retorted, defensive. "You're hot! It's a compliment."

Ignoring the comments, you returned to the task at hand, hoping you could get it done ASAP and head back to your tent to get out of the sun. With a couple more adjustments, you were sure you could get the hose attached and tightened properly. Hopefully, that would do the trick.

"This would be a lot more fun to watch if you took your shirt off."

You felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. "Ray, shut your fucking mouth before I come over there and shut it for you."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Drawing in a deep, calming breath, you focused on fixing the radiator hose. Once it was done, you slammed the hood back down and marched over to Ray, hands still slick with grease.

"Both." You grabbed his face with your hands, completely throwing him off guard. His relentless banter was a constant in your life, but he never actually acted on any of the things he said; and never in a million years did he think you would act on them.

You felt him inhale sharply as you leaned in, lips inches away from his. "I'm both terrified and extremely turned on right now," he whispered.

"Just how I like my men," you whispered back, lips ghosting over his.

"Are we about to kiss right now? Is this actually happening?"

"Ray," you breathed out, and when his hands lifted to your hips, you smirked. "I would rather wrap my mouth around the humvee's exhaust pipe and suck than ever kiss you."

With that, you pulled away and shook your head. Ray stared back at you, completely oblivious to the two greasy hand prints on either side of his face.

"Man, that's fucked up! Messing with a guy's emotions like that," he complained, clearly embarrassed with how quickly he had become caught up in the moment. "I don't want to kiss you anyway. You smell like sweat and grease."

"That'll teach you to harass me when I'm doing you a favour," you said as you grabbed the rag out of your back pocket again. "The humvee should be fine now. Go ahead and give it a try."

Narrowing his eyes at you, Ray slid into the driver's seat and turned the engine over. After a couple sputters, the vehicle roared the life, significantly quieter than it had been previously.

"Hey!" Ray slapped his hands down on the steering wheel. "You did it! And to think they said women weren't any good outside of the kitchen."

A defeated sigh fell from your lips. Then, you smiled. "Never change, Ray."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied. "Seriously though, thanks."

Your smile widened. "No problem."

As you turned to leave, you heard Ray clear his throat and stopped to look back at him. "You know, I don't actually think kissing you would be so terrible." His cheeks were redder than usual. "I mean, you do smell like sweat and grease, but we all do so its not exactly a turn off, considering the circumstances."

You chuckled. "And I suppose kissing you wouldn't be as bad as sucking on an exhaust pipe. A marginal increase in enjoyment, probably."

"So ..." He eyed you. "Should we, you know ...?"

"Absolutely not."

"No, yeah, it's probably a bad idea. You're right."

You shook your head as you began to leave. "I'm walking away now before things get weird again. Goodbye, Ray."

"Smart move. Goodbye."

#lostinthewiind #fanfiction #hbowar #generation kill #generation kill fanfiction #gen kill #ray person #ray person x reader #imagine #female reader #reader insert #x reader

[mads-weasley]

C'est Toi

Eugene Roe x Medic!Reader (Soulmate AU)

Masterlist

A/N: Hiiii @issiie / @cetaitlaverite !! Sorry again for the delay! This is the last gift from me, and I hope you've enjoyed them so far. I'm excited to release this fic! It is my first attempt at a soulmate au, so bear with me! I do not own any of these characters except for (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: People never know when they'll meet their soulmate, but (y/n) would have never thought she'd meet hers in a hot, humid town in Georgia.

Warnings: mentions of wounds, blood, death, etc...

For as long as she could remember, (y/n) (y/l/n) wondered if she had already met her soulmate. The small mark above her hip was a constant reminder of what, more like who, who was yet to come into her life. As she grew up, she always looked out for the matching mark on every boy she went out with, but soon grew tired of the chase, deciding that it would happen at the right time.

Before the "right time" could come, the world descended into war, and (y/n) enlisted, wanting to serve her country like the rest of the men in the military. After a rough time of convincing generals and higher-ups in the army, she was granted permission to be a combat medic in the 101st Airborne, Easy Company.

Basic was hard, but she made it through Sobel, even though he had it out for her especially. One thing that got her through the long runs up Currahee and the long lectures was her fellow medic, Eugene Roe. The Cajun was shy at first, but (y/n) soon brought him out of his shell when she started talking about the family she left behind. From then on, they were inseparable. You would rarely find one without the other, and if you did, you knew that they would make their appearance soon.

Before they knew it, it was the night of June 5th, hours before the "Day of Days" they trained for would begin.

June 6th, 1944

After getting all geared up for the jump, (y/n) made her way over to where Eugene was making sure everyone in his platoon had enough bandages in their personal aid kits. Her stomach was buzzing with uncertainty and a twinge of fear as she waited for him to finish.

"Salut, ma chérie," he called to her, a smile painting his face. She could tell it didn't quite meet his eyes, though.

"Hey, Gene." She took a deep breath as she approached him. "Are you ready for this? Cause I don't know if I a-"

He gently placed his hands on her arms, squeezing softly to stop her rambling. "You've got this, (y/n/n). Don' worry, okay? We're gonna be fine."

At his touch, a warmth spread through her body, and she could feel a blush creep up her face. He was her best friend, so why was she freaking out at a simple touch from him?

Pushing through the feeling, a defeated sigh escaped her lips as she muttered toward the ground. "Promise me you'll be careful. Please."

He moved his hands to cup her cheeks, his soft browns peering into her (y/e/c) ones. "I promise, ma chérie. You too."

Feeling the heat from his breath on her skin, she glanced down at his lips before catching herself after a split second.

"Alright, Doc," she whispered, reluctantly stepping back. "I'll see you in France."

With a solemn expression, he nodded, scanning her face as if it was the last time he would see her, heart racing. Just before she turned away, he caught her wrist gently, pulling her into a tight embrace, burying his head into the crook of her neck.

When he finally pulled away, Eugene turned and walked towards his plane, knowing that if he turned back, he wouldn't be able to leave her. Doing the same, (y/n) took a deep breath, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. They would see each other again. They had to.

The unsettled feeling in (y/n)'s stomach didn't settle. Not even when she found Floyd Talbert on the way to the rally point. Not even when she linked up with most of the company at the designated point.

Only did the feeling subside when she laid eyes on a very exhausted-looking Eugene Roe. Along with this feeling, an invisible weight lifted off her shoulders as she saw him patching up a soldier in the distance.

"Gene," she whispered under her breath before running toward him.

The man he was helping started to limp slowly over to the aid station, and Gene stood up, taking a deep breath.

When she called his name again, his head shot up, and a smile instantly formed on his grimy face when he saw her. He met her halfway, throwing his arms around her middle, and pressed his cheek against her hair with a sigh.

"Je remercie le Seigneur," he murmured, "Thank you."

At that moment, Gene was more content than he had ever been before. She was living and breathing. That's all he'd asked for.

The time they were separated, though only hours, he felt like his heart was unable to beat properly until he saw her again. Throughout his journey through the forest of Normandy, the image of her smiling face kept him going, along with the hope he was going to see it again soon.

Pulling away, Gene cupped her face gently, searching her face for injuries. "Are you alrigh'? Are ya' hurt?"

"I'm okay, Gene," she mumbled, placing her hands over his. "I'm okay.

Tension thickened the air, and his heart began to beat out of his chest as she looked up at him with the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. In a split-second decision, he chose to finally tell her how he felt.

"Listen, I need to-"

"Medic!" he was interrupted.

(Y/n) nodded in the call's direction. "Go."

Scanning her face one more time, he ran toward the cry for help, already missing (y/n)'s warmth.

As she watched him go, she tried to calm her racing heart. He was alive. Gene was alive.

The next few days after D-Day, they were ordered to take the town of Carentan. Supposedly, there was a company of German paratroopers holding the city, but no one knew for certain what they were walking into.

Gene and (y/n) were at the back of the formation of Easy as they waited over a hill on the road to Carentan. They watched Lieutenant Winters speak to Harry Welsh before giving the signal to go.

Nodding to each other, they began to run toward the town. Within seconds of the company moving in, a cry in German could be heard, followed by the dreaded sound of machine-gun fire. (Y/n) watched in horror as some of the men beside her were gunned down easily.

"In the ditch!" Winters yelled over the chaos.

Not hearing the order, (y/n) kept on running with the surviving men of 1st platoon into Carentan.

Gene's heart dropped seeing her sprint into the onslaught of bullets.

"(Y/n)!" He yelled, but she didn't hear him.

Dust sprung from the ground before her as she barely made it to cover with Harry and George Luz. Slamming into the concrete building beside them, Welsh looked behind them, realizing the rest of the company was nowhere to be found.

"Where is everybody?" He shouted as Luz shoot a few times around the side of their cover.

Taking cover, George hid behind the wall momentarily. "I have no idea!"

During this interaction, (y/n) was scanning their surroundings, trying to find any indication of where everyone was, especially Gene. At this point, her eyes were trained to find the bright white and red armband they wore, but she saw no trace of it.

'He'll be okay,' she told herself. 'He'll be okay.'

In less than a minute, the rest of Easy began swarming into the town, and that's when the first cry for a medic could be heard.

"Medic up!"

Saying a silent prayer, (y/n) took a deep breath and ran out into the chaos. Bullets whizzed by her as she found the injured man in an alleyway.

"Help me, Doc! It's my arm!" the soldier yelled when she slid down beside him.

"I've got ya, sweetheart. You're gonna be okay."

She pulled out her bag and sprinkled sulfa on the wound, bandaging it up the best she could. Once she was done, she asked the man if he could stand.

"I think so, ma'am."

"Good," she responded. "Go back toward our infill point and take cover there."

Just as the words left her mouth, another yell for a medic could be heard. Within two seconds, she was on her feet, making her way toward the next injured man.

"This is going to be a long and hard day."

A good bit into the battle, Gene had treated many men but was yet to see his (y/h/c) counterpart darting through the streets of Carentan. This could have been attributed to the fact that the town was like a maze, different streets and alleyways made it hard to navigate it, even though it wasn't that large.

Taking cover in an old bakery, Gene glanced to his right to see Shifty Powers aiming his rifle at what he suspected to be a sniper. After he was done shooting for a moment, Roe called out to him.

"Powers. You seen (y/l/n)?"

He had to think for a second but nodded a few seconds later. "Yeah. I saw her helping someone with a shoulder wound not too long ago."

"Alright. Thanks," Gene responded, brows furrowing in concern.

'Where is she, now?' He thought, watching as men flew by the entrance of the bakery.

"Medic!"

Like always, (y/n) went flying toward the sound, disregarding the danger she was putting herself in. Halfway there, she heard the desperate voice of Lip echo through the street.

"Move, move, move!" He yelled, motioning for them to take cover.

With a curse, (y/n) continued toward the injured man 10 feet in front of her. Before she could make it there, she heard the distinct whistle of an incoming shell, and the next thing she knew, she was thrown backward from its impact.

The breath was knocked from her lungs by the force of the explosion. Frozen, she tried to speak, but nothing came out but strangled gasps.

She vaguely heard someone call her name, but all she could focus on was the violent buzzing in her ears and a burning sensation spreading through her stomach. Trying to lean up on her elbows, she yelped at a sharp pain in her abdomen and fell back on the hard ground, hand flying to the area. When she pulled it away, it was coated in crimson.

"I'm h-hit," she whispered to no one in particular. "I ca-can't b-bre-breathe"

Suddenly, a body slid next to hers, their hands hovering over her.

"(Y/n)! Oh mon Dieu."

Gene. It was Eugene. Even though he was sick to his stomach, he pushed it aside and went into medic mode. She wasn't just another wounded soldier, but right then, he had to treat her as one.

"Ge-Gene?"

"Yeah, it's me, chérie. I've got ya. Hold on."

He hooked his hands under her armpits, pulling her toward a nearby building.

"Come on, sweetheart. I got ya."

Whimpers escaped her mouth as he jostled the wound when they moved. Just when they got around cover, Harry Welsh came sprinting around the corner, hand holding his helmet to his head. At the sight before him, his heart dropped. Everyone knew how close the two of them were.

"Doc, do you need help?"

"No," he responded, lifting her shirt to get a look at the wound. "Tell Spina what happened."

With a reluctant nod, Harry raised his rifle and went to find Ralph. Gene glanced at (y/n)'s face, which was covered in scratches and scrunched up in pain, and quickly gave her a morphine shot to the shoulder. Seeing her visibly relax, he felt a slight relief as well.

"You're alright, chérie. You're alright," he whispered, cupping her cheek gently.

"Thans', Ge," she slurred, eyes fluttering shut from the morphine.

He quickly got out a bandage and started to clean the wound, which he discovered was from a two-inch piece of shrapnel that was embedded in her abdomen. Sprinkling sulfa on the area, Gene froze when he saw a discolored area just above her hip.

Shaking the feeling away, he finished bandaging her up before wiping the area in question clean of any blood.

The shape of the mark was instantly recognizable. It was a mirror image of the one on his hip.

If they had matching marks, it could only mean one thing. His eyes widened at the realization.

They were soulmates.

"C'est Toi," he muttered under his breath. "It's you."

The young man's heart began to race at the thought, and all the feelings for her he'd suppressed since Toccoa came bubbling back to the surface.

He was pulled from his stupor by the voice of Spina.

"She alright?"

Gene cleared his throat, "Yea', she took shrapnel to the stomach, but it's out now. She'll have to come off the line."

"Shame. I know we really need her out here with us."

Glancing back down at her, he smiled. "You have no idea how much."

Before long, they carefully loaded (y/n) onto a stretcher, and she was sent to the aid station. When she woke up, a familiar head of dark hair was resting on the side of the bed, his hand intertwined with hers.

Deciding to let him sleep, she watched him silently. Nowadays, a solemn look occupied his handsome face most of the time, so she loved seeing the carefree version of him.

"Glad to see you're awake," whispered Lip, who was laying on the cot beside her.

"Me too. What happened to you?"

"Mortar," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Car."

He smiled softly, "Thank you. You too, (y/n). I know he'll miss you."

"I'll miss him just as much," she replied, running her free hand through Eugene's hair.

Shooting up at the action, he grinned at her sleepily, asking. "Hey, chérie. How are you feelin'?"

"Sore, but I'll be okay...What happened after I fell asleep?"(Y/n) paused. "I don't remember much."

Not expecting the question, Gene about choked on nothing just thinking about his life-altering discovery. "I just patched ya' up and brought you here."

Although he was the one who brought her to the aid station, seeing her all bruised and bandaged suddenly made the situation real. He could have lost her. Tears glistened in his eyes, and he dropped his chin.

"I'm so glad you're alright. I don't know what I'd do without you, (y/n). I mean it. When I saw you laying there...I had to-"

"Stop," she interrupted. "You're not gonna lose me...and I don't know what I'd do without you, either."

"Who else would patch you up?" He joked, rubbing her hand softly with his thumb.

(Y/n) chuckled lightly at the joke, followed by a wince. "Please don't make me laugh."

"Sorry, darlin', my jokes normally don't make anyone laugh."

Even though she tried to hold it in, a laugh escaped her lips, causing her to groan lowly. "Gene!"

"Sorry!"

They sat in silence for a few minutes until her eyes began to droop and she yawned. Eugene ran his hands through her hair gently, lulling her to sleep.

"Go to sleep, (y/n)," he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up."

October 1945: Zel am See, Austria

Over the 8 months since Gene found out about (y/n)'s soulmate mark, he was tempted to tell her many times but decided against it.

Even though he wanted her to know how he felt, he was going to wait until the war was over. The last thing he wanted was for them to finally get confess, only for one of them to get killed.

When the Japanese surrendered in September, everyone was celebrating, but once everything settled down, they began thinking about home, more importantly, who they'd be coming home to. Gene had been thinking about telling (y/n) more and more each day, and it reached a boiling point in mid-October.

The Austrian landscapes around them were some of the most beautiful any of the men had ever seen, specifically, a lake with a perfect view of the Alps. This was where he was going to tell her how he felt; a place that was untouched by war.

That day, the company was finally having a rematch baseball game from V-J Day after George and Frank, who were on the losing team, pitched a fit about it not being a fair game. While the rest of the company was getting ready for the game, Gene approached (y/n)'s billet door.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

Heavy footsteps came thumping down the hallway, followed by (y/n)'s aggravated voice.

"No, Frank. I'm not playing in the stupid ga-"

Opening the door, she froze mid-sentence when she saw the shy-looking Cajun.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, and a blush crept up her neck. "Gene! I thought you'd be playing in the game?"

He simply chuckled. "I'm not very good at baseball."

"Me neither," she started. "So, what brings you to my humble abode?"

"Since neither of us is playing, would you maybe want to go-"

"Yes," (y/n) interrupted. "Yes."

A smile broke out on his face. "Don't you want to know what I was gonna say?"

"Nope. Surprise me?"

"Sure."

"Alright. Close your eyes for me." Said Gene as they came up to the special place he'd found for them.

She listened and held her hands in front of her with a laugh. "Okay. Just don't let me run into anything, Eugene!"

"Don't worry. I've got ya, chérie," he said sweetly, taking her hands gently.

Arriving, he turned her toward the lake, sliding an arm around her shoulders. "Open."

(Y/n)'s eyes sprung open and widened at the view. "Gene, it's beautiful!"

"Do you like it?" He asked sheepishly.

(Y/n) turned to him with a surprised expression. "Of course I do. Thank you."

This was the moment.

Gene gently took her hands in his once again. "(Y/n)," he whispered. "I love you. And I kno-"

He was cut off by (y/n) pulling his face down to hers, crashing their lips together. As they pulled away, she chuckled breathily. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?"

The young man was beaming with happiness. "Just how long?" he questioned.

"Since I found out we were soulmates," she said, shrugging her shoulders with a grin.

Gene's eyes went wide. "Wait! You knew?"

"Since Toccoa."

"How?"

"I think you forget that you slept shirtless in Georgia."

Running a hand down his face, he sighed. "Of course. I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not," (y/n) paused. "And I love you, too."

#band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers #bandofbrothersedit #eugene roe imagine #eugene roe x reader #eugene roe #gene roe x reader #gene roe #doc roe x reader #wwii #historical fiction #band of brothers x you #hurt/comfort #hbowarsanta22 #hbo war x reader #hbowar #hbo war #hbowardaily #hbo girls

[threemilesup]

It'll All Be Okay // Joseph Liebgott x Reader

description : Bastogne has been difficult for everyone, but between you and Liebgott, he’s been crueler than ever. After an argument and a sudden near-death experience, you’re forced to confront your feelings towards him. 

pairing : joseph liebgott x reader

word count : 2.3k

tags : angst, cursing, injury, fluff

a/n : this is the first fanfic that i've ever written!! i'm pretty nervous to be posting this but cringe culture is DEAD. regardless, if i receive any hate i think i might pass away. anyway, please enjoy!!

–––

“You’re not going on that patrol.”

“Yeah, you know, you’re real funny,” you sarcastically quipped. With a sardonic grin plastered on your face, you turned to face Liebgott. His face displayed a much less amused expression as he stared at you, arms folded. You scoffed. “Oh, come on, Lieb. You can’t be serious!”

He deadpanned, his expression conveying his response.

You furrowed your brows, frustrated. “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t make the choices around here.” You scoffed once more before turning away, angrily tightening the grip you held on your rifle.

“I spoke to Tab, he’s taking your place.”

You froze. Turning around slowly, you glared daggers at him. “You did what?”

“Go back to your foxhole, go get some extra rest.”

Your mouth fell open. “Liebgott, you can’t–”

“Go back to your foxhole, alright?” he repeated with a nonchalant tone. He spoke as if he was doing you some service. Who did he think he was? Your face turned red as heat rose to your cheeks, and you swore steam almost shot from your ears.

“Why are you doing this?” you snapped.

“You’re exhausted. You need rest. For yourself, for the company.”

You dryly laughed. “What do you know about how I feel? Everyone here is tired.” He frowned in response. “You can’t just decide things for me, that’s not how this works. I’m perfectly capable of going on patrol, and so that’s what I’ll do.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want us to lose another man because someone’s too tired to look out for their partner,” he countered.

You gaped at him, shocked that he would stoop so low. “You were the one that told me it’s not my fault! I did the best that I could!”

“Maybe your best isn’t enough!”

You stood, astonished, boots buried in the snow. Opening your mouth to make a retort, you quickly decided against it. It was a waste of energy. He was a waste of energy. Turning on your heel, you stormed off.

The snow crunched beneath your steps as you stormed off. Even in the freezing hell that was Bastogne, it was no surprise that you were still subjected to his nasty temperament. You were used to his brash personality, but now, as you found yourself trapped in the frigid Ardennes, he was much worse.

You let out a huff, your mind racing. The way that he was bothered you to no end. It was frustrating that he would dare to make such a decision on your behalf, it was frustrating that he felt the need to do so, and most of all, it was frustrating that you cared so much.

It wasn’t like you to be so heavily affected by others, so why did this matter? Did he really think you were weak? You had put up with so much to get this far and you weren’t about to start accepting hand-outs. You trudged through the snow, mind heavy with thoughts - before a sudden flash sent you tumbling backward.

You laid in the soft, white snow, your ears ringing.

The colors of the world faded to monochrome. Time was slow.

You laid, unmoving, tired. You felt the cold earth beneath you shaking as German artillery rained from the sky.

Through the deafening silence, a voice screamed your name. Snapping back to your senses, your eyes widened in fear. Propping yourself up, you cried out in distress. You glanced down to see a sharp piece of shrapnel lodged in your right leg with a thick patch of blood pooling the area.

“Medic!” a voice shouted out only to be consumed by the thundering roar of an explosive. You clutched at your wounded leg, staring at the deep gash in horror. Sensing rapid approaching movement, your eyes darted to Liebgott, who was frantically crawling towards you.

When he finally reached you, he grabbed your shoulders, supporting the weight of your upper body. You blankly stared at him as he scanned your leg to assess the situation. “Doc!” he called.

“Joe,” you mumbled, your head lulling to the side.

“Hey, look at me. You’re fine, alright? Look at me!” His face read worry, but his voice remained steady. He moved a hand to cup your cheek and tilted your head to face him. You leaned into his warmth, entranced by the gaze of his soft, brown eyes.

“Joe,” you repeated.

“Hey, hey. You’re alright, sweetheart.” He gently ran his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. In an instant, Eugene Roe rushed to your side and dropped to his knees by your injury. He tossed open his medical bag, making quirk work with the few supplies he had left.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” Joe cooed, bringing your attention back to him. He paid no mind to the medic, solely focused on you. A sharp pain stung your leg.

“Joe,” you echoed, your voice faltering. “Joe, I don’t want to go. Please don’t let me go, please.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay now.” He pulled you in close, allowing your upper body to fall into him. He wrapped an arm around your back and the other around your head, gently pressing your cheek against his chest. He silently cradled you, resting his chin atop your head and squeezing his eyes shut.

You were afraid. The adrenaline coursing through your body made it difficult to form rational, comprehensive thoughts. You remembered how you were mad at him. How could he be like this in your final moments? You didn’t want to go like this, you weren’t ready. You wanted to cry out and yell and tell him how angry you still were. You wanted to tell him that you loved him.

“I know, I know,” he whispered, holding you tightly. No, you thought, you don’t.

Although numbed to pain, you felt the touch of the medic on your wounded leg. As your consciousness slipped away you focused on the sensation of Liebgott’s embrace. He held you close, trembling, his fingers combing through your tangled hair. The last thing you felt was his warmth.

–

You jolted awake, jerking upright. As your consciousness slid back into your body, memories of what came before flooded your vision. Blinking away the confusion, you sat, shell-shocked.

You were on a bed–or, what felt like a wooden plank covered in scratchy blankets–in a small, tented room, likely attached to one of the field hospitals. You peered down at the shape your legs formed beneath the blanket, taking note that both remained intact. In an attempt to swing your legs over to get up, a sharp pang of pain shot through your freshly wounded leg and up to your spine, causing you to cry out.

A nearby nurse gasped and pushed into your makeshift room, scrambling to your side and throwing her arms behind your back to support your weight. “Goodness, dear! You sure gave me a fright,” she exclaimed, gently lowering you onto the rickety bed.

You took a moment to take in her appearance. She had dark brown hair that was neatly slicked back into a white nurse’s cap. Although she carried herself with a youthful demeanor, her face displayed creases similar to that of an older woman.

“I need to get back to the line,” you mumbled, forcing yourself up.

“Not in your state, you don’t!” She placed a palm on your shoulder, giving it a tender squeeze. “What’s your name, dear?”

You frowned. “How long was I out?”

At your refusal of her question, she paused, offering a polite smile. “You arrived here just about a day ago.”

You curtly nodded in response. You observed your wounded leg. It was wrapped in thick, white bandages that were, in some odd areas, tainted with hues of red and brown.

“I’ll need to replace those bandages of yours shortly. I’ll go get some more and I’ll return in a bit, alright, dear?” She smiled once more, clasping her hands together at her front. At your lack of response she pursed her lips and saw herself out, exiting through the tent flap.

After you watched the nurse leave, you returned your gaze to your legs. With shaky breaths, you leaned back and rested against the stiff frame of the bed. You wanted to cry. You wanted to release all the emotions that came along with your freshly opened wounds, but you couldn’t. Nothing came out.

Instead, you stared ahead.

–

You awoke to the sound of the tent flap shuffling. Your head whipped to the source, body stiffening. Standing at the entrance of your makeshift room was none other than Joseph Liebgott.

He stood rigid, his helmet clutched at his side. He had shaved since you had last seen him. The two of you looked at each other in silence. Despite the emptiness that ebbed away at your mind, now that he was here, you felt your emotions beginning to trickle back.

You remembered the rage you had felt towards him. You remembered how, despite your argument, despite his cutting words, he immediately came to your side to comfort you in what you thought would be your final moments. You felt the way he held you as your consciousness crept away from you.

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore,” you uttered.

“What?” he pressed, taking a couple steps towards you.

“Joe, I’m fed up. I’m sore and I’m frustrated, and really, I just can’t do this.”

“What? What’s the matter with you?”

“You! You’re the matter!” you cried out. “You’re an ass! You make my head ache and you make me hate myself for feeling like this! And I hate that I feel this way, and I hate that I let myself feel like this, and I hate that I have to pretend that I’m okay with it when I’m not.

“I can’t stand you! I can’t stand your fucking attitude or the names you call me or the way you pick on me or how you can always find me in a group or how you always stare at me with that look of yours.

“And I hate how I allowed myself to fall into this trap, that I let you have this much power over me. If I could change the way things were, I would. But I can’t. And we’re in the middle of a goddamned war and this–this feeling should be the last thing that I’m worried about, but the truth is, I’m hopelessly, irrevocably, madly in love with you, and I can’t imagine a day where I wake up and you’re not around to bother me. And I hate that the most.”

By the time your tirade was finished, you had begun crying. Your face went hot as tears spilled down your cheeks and into your lap. Embarrassed by your explosive reaction, you tightly clenched your fists, raising an arm to wipe away your tears.

“You’re…in love with me?” he muttered, his voice a breath.

“That’s your main takeaway? Yes, you idiot!” you bawled.

Glimpsing past the cover of your arm, you caught his expression softening. As your eyes locked with his, he came to his senses and rushed to your side. He threw his arm around your shoulders and gently nudged your body towards his.

You fell into his chest, allowing yourself to let it all out. He wrapped his arms around you. You were grateful for his comfort but confused as to why he wasn’t recoiling in disgust. Hesitantly, you snaked your arms around his waist.

As your emotions calmed, he gently pulled away. You glanced up at him, sniffling. He lowered himself to your height, cupping your face in his palms. You weren’t sure if you’d seen this side of him before. He sharply inhaled a breath.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he declared. You searched his face for any trace of dishonesty but there was none to be found.

“Joe,” you breathed, bringing a hand to his cheek.

You were captivated by his beauty, taking in the sight of how handsome he was up close. Your eyes flickered down to his lips as he tugged them into a smirk.

The two of you, as if propelled by magnets, slowly drew your faces together until your lips met. Eyelids fluttering shut, you pressed your lips against his, melting into his touch. He returned the kiss, using a hand to gently adjust your head. He slid his other hand down your shoulders and to the small of your back, drawing you closer.

You were the first to pull away. You raised your fingers, pressing them to your swollen lips as if you were unsure that the kiss was real. He studied your face with interest, watching with a smile.

“You mean it?” you asked him, just to be sure.

“I do, sweetheart,” he replied, rubbing his thumb up and down the side of your waist.

Suddenly, the tent flap shuffled and in came the nurse. “Oh!” she exclaimed, abruptly stopping in her tracks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize–”

“It’s alright, I was just visiting,” Joseph said, rising to his feet and turning to face the nurse.

“I just need to replace her bandages. Is that alright?” she asked, turning to you for permission. You nodded.

She bowed her head and approached your bandaged leg. As she started to get to work, you looked over to Joseph and reached out to clasp his hand. His face flushed as he smiled down at you, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him.

“I love you,” he mouthed back.

Although your mind was still swirling with many negative feelings such as hurt, shock, and frustration, none of them were as strong as the love you felt for the man holding your hand. In that moment, you knew that eventually, your wounds would heal, and it would all be okay.

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #joseph liebgott #joseph liebgott x reader #hbowar #reader insert

[mads-nixon]

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!!

#band of brothers #band of brothers masterlist #easy company #george luz #ww2 #wwii #world war ii #andrew haldane x reader #andy haldane x reader #rv burgin imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers x y/n #easy company x reader #easy company x y/n #101st airborne #dick winters #the pacific #the pacific x reader #hbowar x reader #hbo war imagines #hbo war x reader #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon x reader angst #lewis nixon #lewis nixon angst #lewis nixon imagines #dick winters imagines

[mccall-muffin]

Hi! I'm not sure if your requests are open, but if they are I was wondering if you could write something fluffy l for Joe Toye? I adore your writing and I have already written three papers since Monday and your writing, amongst a few others, has not so low key helped me through so much if it <3

Well hello dear anon :)

First of all: thank you soooooo much for your kind words! This really made my day 🥰

So, I got a little something for you and I really hope you like it!

Warnings: Language, Fluffy Fluff, War wounds

The price I pay // Joe Toye x Reader

June 6, 1944 - St. Marie-du-Mont, Normandy, France

"Hey guys," Mike Ranney says as he opens the hatch to the truck where Guarnere, Lipton, Malarkey, Buck, Toye, and Plesha are sitting. "Hey Ranney, what's up?" asks Bill, and they all look at him curiously. Mike, however, looks primarily at Joe. "Y/L/N's here," he then says curtly, and Joe exchanges a quick glance with Bill before getting up and jumping out of the truck.

"Where is she?" he asks, looking urgently at Mike. The latter points to a house a bit further back.

As fast as Joe can, he runs toward it. He stops when he spots you taking off your helmet and shaking your hair. "Y/N," he breathes, and you turn to face him.

Your face is still dirty from the grease, and you look drained. "Joe?" you ask in surprise as you look at him, but he has already covered the few feet and takes you in his arms. "Fuck," he mumbles, hugging you to him. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up." You hug him to you as well, breathing in his familiar scent.

"Well, I'm here now," you say, slowly breaking away from Joe.

"Hey, Y/N! Good to see you," Bill, who has followed Joe, greets you. He also hugs you, but your gaze stays on Joe. "We thought you'd gone off the deep end." Now you smile briefly at Bill. "Don't worry. You won't be getting rid of me that quickly." "Not that we'd want to," Joe says, putting an arm around your shoulders again. You smile at him from below.

"You guys got any grub? I'm starving," you say as the two of them lead you to the truck. "Maybe the guys left you something," Bill says, opening the flap. However, the air that pours out of the truck toward you is anything but pleasant. "Holy shit, what is that?" you ask, looking at the guys sitting in the truck.

"Nice hello to you too, Y/N," Buck says with a grin. You smile tiredly. "Sorry," you say, rubbing your face. Again, Joe puts an arm around your shoulders. "Don't worry; it's only Malarkey that stinks, not the food. You got any left?" "Ah yeah, insult first and demand later," Malark quips, holding out the box of cooked food to you. You take out your plate, and he scoops up a portion for you.

"Do you want to join us?" asks Buck then, making a move to scoot over, but you shake your head. "That's sweet of you, but I'll just find a quiet corner and eat peacefully."

You thank them again for the food before heading back out. In a quiet alley, you sit down on the ground and eat. The day has sapped your strength, and you are just plain tired.

"Mind if I join you?" Joe asks you, and you look up as he suddenly stands before you. You nod with your mouth full, and he slides in next to you.

"How are you feeling?" he asks after a while, during which you've been sitting next to each other in comfortable silence, and you've finished your food. "Exhausted. I'm just exhausted. I've been wandering around aimlessly like a lunatic for the last two days, not knowing where to go. This is definitely not how I imagined my first jump."

"Neither did I, believe me. But the main thing is that you're here now, and I can keep an eye on you again," Joe says with a smile, and you look at him from the side. "You know you don't have to, don't you?" "I know, but I want to," Joe says softly. "I was really worried about you, Y/N." Your eye contact lasts for a moment before you turn away, blushing.

"Y/N, I-," Joe begins, but then Bill approaches you. "Hey, fellas, we're moving out. Winter's orders," he informs us. Sighing, you stand up and put your helmet back on. Just as you're about to follow Bill, Joe holds you back.

"Y/N."

You turn back to Joe and look at him questioningly. "Yeah?" Joe doesn't say anything at first, then he comes up to you, takes your face in his hands, and kisses you demanding. You are caught off guard for a millisecond, but then you kiss him back with equal determination. You grab his jacket and pull him even closer to you.

As Joe slowly pulls away from you, you look into each other's eyes. "Wow," you breathe with a laugh and take a step back. "What was that for?" "Simply for you. Because you're you, and you're perfect the way you are," Joe says, biting his lip briefly. Joe stares at the ground briefly before taking your hands in his. "Y/N... I have to tell you before we go. You don't even know how much you mean to me. My feelings for you have grown stronger over the past two years, and when you didn't show up at the venue, I realized how strong they are."

You listen to Joe's words, and warmth spreads through you. "Joe-" you whisper, "No, please let me finish. Ever since I first saw you, you've messed with my head. I didn't realize it until later, but I'm more aware now than ever. I'm in love with you, Y/N." For a second, you look at Joe. Then you put your arms around his neck and kiss him again before grinning, stepping away from him, and walking back towards the others.

January 3, 1945 - Bois Jacques Woods, Bastogne, Belgium

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, right?" you exclaim as you spot Joe in line between Penkala and Skip. "Uh oh, here it goes," you hear Skip say, nudging Webb, a replacement. "Now it's getting interesting."

You stand in front of Joe and poke him in the chest with your finger, "What the hell are you doing here?" "Hey, whoa... I just wanted to get back to you guys. I ain't vegetating on no aid station like this," he returns. "Where'd you been hit?" Webb then asks, and you give him an annoyed look. "What's that?" asks Joe. "Oh, that's Webb. Replacement," Skip explains to him, which also earns him a nasty look from you.

"Really? Thought it was some guy I've known for two years, and I forgot his face," Joe then says, drawing his attention back to you. "Don't change the subject now, okay?!" "Joe got hit in the arm. A new years eve gift from the Luftwaffe," Penkala then says. "That's right. Three days ago! So again: what are you doing here?"

Behind you, you hear Bill laughing to himself. Joe grabs some food, and the two of you walk a little away from the other's prying ears. "What was I supposed to do, Y/N? I didn't want to stay there." "I know, but you should rest! You know that as well as I do."

Joe puts a hand on your arm. "Now calm down, babydoll. It's all good. Winters knows I'm here and has given his OK. I didn't want to be away from you any longer, don't you understand?" Your expression softens. Joe knows exactly what that means. "Come on, you're glad I'm back," he teases, and you can't suppress a smile. "I'd rather you get better, but I can't deny that I'm glad to see you." Joe takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to it. "I knew it, baby."

Later that afternoon:

You arrive back at your old position at the front as Joe jumps into his foxhole. "You gotta be fucking kidding me," he immediately exclaims, and you look down at him. A small smile appears on your face. "Someone's gonna die. Someone's gonna fucking die. Guarnere, Y/N, look at this shit! One of those 1st Battalion fuckers took a dump in my foxhole." You exchange a quick glance with Bill, who looks around. There are exploded trees all around you. "I think they shit in everyone's foxhole, Joe. I don't think they wanted to spend much time above ground." You nod in agreement, then look back at Joe, climbing back out of the foxhole.

He walks up to you and stops in front of you. "Those assholes," he grumbles. "Come on; I'm sure we wouldn't feel any different if we were in their situation."

Joe looks around for a moment, then pulls you behind two trees. "What are you doing?" you ask with a laugh, but Joe immediately presses your back against a tree and kisses you passionately. "I just wanted to say hello to you properly." You giggle and kiss him again. "Hi."

"Hey, Y/N! You think the foxhole will fix itself?" you suddenly hear Malarkey call out, with whom you and Bill share your foxhole. "I think I should go," you whisper to Joe, and he nods. "I'll see you later," he whispers back, and you nod before saying your goodbyes. You head towards the foxhole and hear the familiar sound of artillery fire before you get to it.

You jump into the hole with Don and Bill as quickly as you can. "Damn bastards!" you curse, fervently hoping that Joe still made it to his foxhole. For several minutes, you are bombarded. When it finally dies down, Bill looks at you with concern. "Everything okay?" he asks you, and you nod. "Yeah, everything's still there." "Maybe we should see if anybody's hit," Don says, and Bill looks at him with a frown. "Malark, that's what they want," he says. "The Krauts are trying to draw us out in the open." "I think Bill is right. We should wait," you agree with Bill.

Silence has fallen around you, but you hear what sounds like a groan. Confused, you look at Bill again. "I need my helmet. I need help!" You hear the words more clearly, sending a shiver down your spine. You'd recognize that voice anywhere. "You hear that?" asks Don. "Is that Joe?" adds Bill, and the three of you look in the direction the cries for help are coming from. "Help!" "Fuck, that is Joe! I need to get to him!" you then say, already wanting to climb out of the foxhole, but Bill pulls you back. "You stay here, Y/N! Do you think Joe would forgive me if something happened to you?"

With those words, Bill climbs out of the hole and heads toward Joe's foxhole. For a moment, nothing happens, and you and Don look anxiously in that direction.

But then it happens. Fire is opened on you again. "Fuck, Don!" you shout, ducking further into the hole while holding your helmet. Again you let minutes of horror wash over you until the bombs finally fall silent. Again you make moves to climb out of the foxhole, but this time Malarkey pulls you back. "Are you crazy? Haven't you learned anything right now?" he asks, upset. "I just want to check on Joe, Malark." "I know, Y/N, and I understand, but there's no point in putting your life on the line right now. At least wait a few minutes."

"Medic!"

You both look up at the call. It's coming again from the direction Bill disappeared. "Don!" you say urgently, but he shakes his head. "Doc's got this covered, I'm sure. I'm not letting you go," he says, and you give him a dirty look. "You really think you can stop me?" you ask, and Don raises an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah! And if I have to sit on you!"

You sigh and look again in the direction from which the screams came earlier. You stay in the foxhole for a few minutes. Again and again, you glance nervously at your watch. "It's been almost ten minutes Malark." Don still looks nervously in that direction before looking at you again. "All right. Go," he says, and you don't wait long before you climb out of the foxhole and start running.

Slithering, you arrive at a small clearing and falter, for what you see nearly tears your heart.

Joe and Bill are lying on the ground in front of you. Both look pretty battered, and you quickly realize that Joe is missing one leg entirely from the knee down, and Bill's doesn't look too healthy. You are frozen in shock for a moment, but then Joe's gaze finds yours. You can see the pain in his face, but you're unsure if it's just physical pain. It snaps you out of your thoughts, and you immediately kneel down to Joe.

"Hey," you say softly, looking at him. "Y/N," he gasps, and you take his hand in yours. Doc Roe is already sitting by his leg, bandaging it. You look down for a moment and then back at Joe. "Doc, what can I do?" you ask, and he presses something into your hand. "Hold this." "You got a smoke?" Bill asks, and you look up at him. You reach into your pocket for a second and toss him your pack.

"Jesus, what's a guy gotta do to get killed around here?" Joe then asks through clenched teeth, and you look back at him. "You won't die here, you understand me?" you clarify. "Y/N, how am I supposed to-?" he begins, but you immediately interrupt him. "No! Stop it right now, will you? You can do this. We can do this together," you say, looking at him urgently.

"Bill, you're going first," Doc says as two more medics come in and put him on a barre. "Whatever you say, Doc, whatever you say," is all Bill says as he tosses you back your smokes. You take two out right away and give one to Joe. "Thanks," he whispers.

At that moment, Lip comes running up and looks at his two men. He rubs his forehead, and your eyes meet. You're still stroking Joe's hand, who s sitting on the floor, cramped.

"Fuck, Y/N. That's it," he says, and you look at him questioningly. "What are you talking about?" "Well, about this," he says, pointing to his leg. "How am I supposed to take care of you with this? I... I can't be the man I want to be for you like this. I - Jesus! You can't want me like this anymore." For a moment, you look at Joe in irritation. "Joseph John Toye, now listen to me very carefully, will you? I love you. I don't care if you have two legs or just one; you got that? And I've told you a thousand times; you don't have to take care of me!"

Joe holds your gaze. "You still want me?" he almost whispers. "Nothing would change my mind about that," you say, smiling slightly. Then you lean down and kiss him. "I'll come to you as soon as I can."

Two men then kneel beside Joe and hoist him onto a barre. Joe is still holding your hand. "Take care of yourself, Y/N, will you? And don't die, babydoll!" "I don't plan to," you smile wearily as they take him away.

November 22, 1945 - Hughestown, Pennsylvania, USA

Nervously, you stand in front of the entrance door. You look again at the address Winters gave you and then again at the door before you ring the bell. It takes a moment before the door is opened.

An older woman stands in front of you and smiles kindly at you. "Yes, please?" she asks, eyeing you. "Good afternoon, ma'am; I'm sorry to bother you. I am looking for Joseph Toye. My name is Y/N Y/L/N-" The woman immediately begins to smile. "Sure thing. Come in." She opens the door a little wider and lets you enter.

Still nervous, you knead your cap in your fingers. "Come," the lady says and leads you into the kitchen. She offers you a chair, and you sit down. She puts a cup of coffee in front of you, and you begin to wonder if coming here was a wise idea. The woman, you now assume to be Mrs. Toye, Joe's mother, stands there, eyeing you with a smile.

"Ma?" You hear someone call out, and warmth instantly spreads as you recognize the voice. "Who was that?" The footsteps come closer, and then Joe appears in the kitchen doorway. Dressed in civilian clothes, leaning on crutches, he stands there, and when he spots you, his face lights up.

"Y/N?"

You leap to your feet and toward him as quickly as you can. You take him in your arms, not thinking that his balance is not as good as it used to be, and you almost fall. Tears of joy run down your cheeks. Joe drops his crutches and pulls you toward him. "Oh my God, you're finally here!" he whispers in your ear. As he gently pushes you off of him, he wipes away your tears before kissing you passionately.

"I missed you so much!" he says, and you both sit at the table. "Ma, this is... This is Y/N," Joe then says, smiling at his mother. "It's an extraordinary pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Joe hasn't stopped talking about you." "Maaa!" "What? It's true," his mother says with a smile. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook you something?" Joe looks at you for a moment but then shakes his head. "Would you give us a moment?" Mrs. Toye nods and then leaves the kitchen.

Joe immediately takes your face in his hands again and kisses you again. "You don't know how happy I am to see you here before me, alive and well!" You force yourself to smile and nod at him. "Is everything all right?" "As far as it goes, yes... When you were gone, it wasn't easy. I'll be honest with you; we saw things..." You break off. The memory of the concentration camp is still deep in your bones.

Joe takes your hand in his. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to talk about it. I know what it's like."

You look at Joe and then smile before touching his cheek. "How are you doing?" you then ask. Joe lowers his eyes for a moment. "Well, I finally got out of that fucking hospital two months ago. Then I came here and my ma... Well, she took care of me. I have to learn to make it on my own first." "You don't have to," you say directly. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere." Joe puts his hand on yours, then smiles.

"I have something for you," he says and stands up before disappearing from the room. Confused, you watch him go. It's not long before Joe comes back and sits down again.

He takes your hand in his again. "I'll be honest with you, Y/N. The time in those hospitals wasn't easy. Luckily, I had Bill to keep me company. In any case, I was worried about you. I had nightmares that you had died, and it was hard every time I woke up and realized I couldn't see you. I was relieved when we got the news that the war was over. I hadn't received any news that you were dead until then, which is why you could come home now." He lowers his eyes for a moment. "Then came the fear that you wouldn't return to me after all. That you'd changed your mind. Who wants to be with a one-legged cripple. What can I offer her anyway? Those are just a few of the thoughts I've had."

Slightly shocked, you look at Joe, and tears form in your eyes that he even had such thoughts. "Joe-" you start, but he interrupts you, "No, let me finish first. Bill has been helping me. He assured me that you'd come back to me. That you loved me. And I wanted to believe him; I really did. But I only believe it now. Now that you're finally standing in front of me again. And so..." He rummages in his pants pocket and pulls out a small box. "I've been carrying this around for a long time, Y/N, and it's just for you. I love you with all my heart. Because of you, I survived this fucking war and this." He points to his leg. "Just the thought of you loving me gave me strength. And that's why..."

Joe grabs a pillow and throws it on the floor before kneeling down on half his leg. "Y/N Y/L/N. I can't live without you anymore. I don't want to live without you anymore. I want to spend my life with you and always have you by my side. So will you do me the honor, and will you be my wife?"

The tears have now found their way down your cheeks anyway. You look Joe in the eye before smiling. "Sure I will! Jesus, I love you, Joe!"

Joe gets back up as quickly as possible, but you're throwing your arms around his neck at least as fast. Joe smiles and then kisses you tenderly. "How did I ever deserve you," he whispers between kisses to your lips. Joe gently pushes you off of him and then slides the beautiful ring onto your finger, making you smile.

"If my leg was the price for letting me see that beautiful smile every day, I gladly paid it. Just for you, my love."

#Band of Brothers #Joe Toye x Reader #Anon Request #LOVED TO WRITE IT TBH #bobedit #hbo series #hbowar #ww2 #Joe Toye #Kirk Acevedo #Joseph Toye

[buckyegans]

Ok but hear me out - Bucky and reader rooting for different baseball teams

⭑ saw this and immediately had to answer. i love this concept and competitive bucky will live rent free in my mind for the next 4 months thank you

⭑ no warnings except language, drinking, bucky and reader being competitive, gender neutral!!!

 You sat back in your chair, movements languid as you sipped your beer, shoulder to shoulder with Curt and Buck. The bar was packed with both American and British airmen alike—you were focusing in and out of the conversation in front of you. You’d caught a lot of smack talk between your friends beside you, and the RAF men across the table. They all wore smug looks, and spoke poshly. Your lips wrapped around your beer as you tipped the rest of it back. You caught some of the words.

 “If you wanna get the Major excited,” Curt started, reaching for the refill Crosby set down. “Baseball.” Curt stated.

 Major John Bucky Egan turned, brows shooting up. “Yeah! Specifically Yankees.” You rolled your eyes at this. The Yankees? Out of all the teams, Egan was rooting for them? Bucky caught the action, and he sat up straighter, brows furrowed. “What was that, L/N? You rolled your eyes.”

 You shrugged, grabbing your new beer. “Just…didn’t pin you for a Yankees guy, is all.” you had muttered in response, lips forming a thin line.

 Bucky scoffed. “I love the Yankees. You probably root for the Cardinals or somethin’…” Bucky replied offhandedly, shaking his head.

 It went silent for a moment. You blinked at the Manitowoc-born man for a few seconds, jaw dropped. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you asked, eyes narrowing towards him. “The Cardinals are great.” you defended.

 “They’re not bad, per se. But, Yankees are better—by a long shot.” Bucky stated, looking at you with wide eyes. This was a revelation for the both of you. You’d known each other for months, and you’d never known that you’d rooted for opposing teams.

 “You’re just mad we kicked your ass at the World Series in—” you started, but Bucky intervened.

 “No, no, no—I’m not mad, *sweetheart*. I’m just sayin’ that when they’re head to head again, we all know who’s gonna win.” Bucky said, smiling lopsidedly, cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

 You huffed. “Yeah, the Cardinals—”

 “You misunderstood, it’s gonna be the Yankees—” Bucky interjected again. The RAF men across the table watched the banter back and forth with creases between their brows. The argument definitely wasn’t helping the tension between sides of the tables. Between you and Bucky sat Buck, who had his arms crossed. Buck didn’t give two shits about baseball, or any sport for the matter. He looked like he was about to explode—which was a lot considering Gale Cleven was a very patient man. Reaching for his ginger beer, Buck sighed, lips forming a thin line. He glared daggers at Curt, who’d started the topic of baseball.

 “Sorry that I like watching a good team, it’s just—” Bucky was saying. His words were cut off from the sound of Buck setting his bottle on the table roughly, the sound silencing the banter.

 “How about they both suck?” asks Buck. “Because you guys really need to shut up…” he muttered. It was silent for a moment—then, you and Bucky were at each other’s throats again. Buck huffed, shaking his head. He gave one last glare to Curt, who just shrugged sheepishly. Some friends he had, right?

#hbowar #callum turner #hbowar imagines #masters of the air imagines #masters of the air #bucky egan x reader #john egan

[iceman-kazansky]

Hi! I'd like to request a Webster x fem!nurse!reader one shot. Something about their first meeting after the war. They fall in love while Webster is in the hospital, but when the war is over they part ways, but he can't forget her and finds her home to see her. If you are not busy of course. Love you and your blog 💗

A Reunion Not Thought Possible

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

Pairings: David Webster x f!reader

Requested: By another lovely anon

Warnings: Uhh.. Mentions of Explosives, kissing? I think that's it.

Summary: When the war ended, you were hundreds of miles away, with no hope of finding each other after. Yet, here he is.

A/n: as much of my work, I don't like this one very much, and I feel like my writing style switched randomly. I hope you like it Anon 🥺

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

Like many, You remember where you were the day the war came to an end. At the time, you remember you had been bandaging up a nasty leg wound and applying a thick layer of gauze and a white bandage over it. It was then the news bearer came in, shouting and out of breath: “The war’s over! The japs surrendered!” before they were off to the next tent.

The celebration had been large, larger than any celebration you’d ever seen. There was drinking, lots of it, and someone had managed to get their hands on fireworks (or explosives, for you had only heard the story rather than witnessed it,) and had lit late in the evening.

It was even crazier when you arrived by boat to San Francisco, there were millions of people crowding the docks, welcoming the soldiers home. You remember setting your feet down on American soil again, you hadn’t been home in nearly 3 years, but it was such an odd yet wonderful feeling. To be home.

But of course, when the war ended, another relationship you'd never thought of how it'd work after the war, ended too.

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

As of right now you were cleaning your house– could you believe it? You bought your own house after the war!– when suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Which was odd, because you weren't expecting any visitors. Although, it could just be the postman? Or something like that.

When you pulled open the door, you were met with a dashing but very familiar face. His mouth was open, as if he was going to speak, but nothing ever came. He stood there like a fool with no words to explain why or how. Something he'd later chastise himself for when he remembered the embarrassing incident.

Moments passed when you both just stared. One, too lovestruck to talk and the other? Too scared to speak in fear her words would make the man she never thought she'd see again disappear.

David finally snapped out of his reverie, "Hello," he spoke gently. Almost like he was talking to a wounded animal, afraid it might flee.

"Hi."

Did you not recognize him?

Davis rid himself of the thought, of course you remembered him, right?

With a shaky hand, he extended the bouquet towards you, "These are for you."

A smile stretched onto your face as you took the flowers delicately and retreated back into the house, leaving the door open while saying from the kitchen: "Come, sit down."

David removed his shoes and shut the door behind him when he entered. He followed you to the kitchen, watching as you filled a clear vase with water and clipped the stems off the flowers.

Webster observed from the doorway in silence, taking note of the way you practically danced across the kitchen, finally placing the vase on an open counter and turning around to face him, "Would you like a drink? I've got tea, coffee, or some water."

"I'll have tea, please." He responds absently. You don't realize it, of course, but his mind is trying to make a decision. He's still not sure if you remember who he was, but, Oh– he sure hopes you do. He can barely contain himself when he blurts, "Do you remember?"

Turning to look at him again, a quizzical look crosses your face before it returns back to a warm grin that makes his heart 'ba-bump' wildly in his chest. "How could I forget?"

David feels a smile pulling at his lips and a soft sigh of relief eludes him and he steps closer, nearly cornering you against the counter, “I had to come find you,” he says, “I just couldn’t live my life knowing we had something and never got the chance to act on it.”

“I’m glad you did,” Your voice is barely above a whisper when his hand reaches up to cup your cheek.

His eyes dart down to your lips. Subconsciously, his tongue darts out to wet his own lips as his eyes draw back to yours, “Can I kiss you?”

In a hushed tone, you answer: "Please."

Instantly, David closes the gap between your lips in a fiery kiss. His lips were molded against your own, passion flowing between you two.

The kiss was only broken off when he pulled away for a gasp of air, his forehead resting against yours, "I love you."

"I love you more," you reply

Nothing could describe how forever grateful you'd be that David did find you. In all honesty, you had thought there was never a chance of finding him again after the war ended. But how he did find you was a story for another time, one that would be discussed at a later date because right now all you wanted to do was hold and love David for he had found you. A reunion believed impossible.

#david webster #David Webster x f!reader #band of brothers #x reader #female reader #y/n #bob #iceman-kazansky #david webster headcanons #hbo war #hbowar #hbo series #david webster x reader #♤ Requests

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Good Girl

So this has been the long awaited ‘Kinky Ron’ fic requested by @ronsparky which sparked the whole creation of the discord chat with @malarkgirlypop. It is finally here and will most likely be in two parts of people want to see what happens. I’m sorry this fic took so long Jess but I hope you like it. Warnings: sexual images, swearing, Winters being awkward, kinky Ron, themes of war

Bastogne had been cold but Haguenau wasn’t much better. The wind bit fiercely at her face, freezing the tip of her nose and chapping her lips as she marched, head down, hands balled into fists. She couldn’t believe it. How was it when something went wrong it always seemed to be her damn fault? It’s not like Easy was her company, she was just a Corporal for Christ's sake but for some reason known only to God, Ronald Speirs had it in for her and regardless of the situation he would call her for a little chat.

Her boots sounded loudly up the corridor, snow and mud flaking off on the rotten wooden floor. First Sergeant Lipton greeted her with a small smile from beneath his mountain of blankets, his voice weak and shaky as he told her to take a seat.

“Just stay calm, Y/n. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems.

“That’s easy for you to say, Sir,” Y/n reminded him of the last time Speirs had called her to his office and Lipton had nearly lost his head to a flying plate.

Heavy footfall from the left caused Y/n to stand, her hand swiftly saluting the three offices as they entered the room. Winters and Nixon nodded at her before heading out, still deep in their conversation and leaving her with Speirs who looked as though he was about to blow his top.

“Y/l/n, with me. NOW!” Y/n trailed along like a dejected puppy, her head hanging low as she waited for the onslaught that was to come. Speirs slammed the heavy, oak door behind her but she didn’t jump. This exact situation had happened enough times that it barely phased her anymore.

“Corporal, why do you think I’ve called you here?” Speirs asked, leaning against the desk in the centre of the room. He had his overcoat off and the sleeves of his jumper rolled up, revealing the bulging veins of his arms as he glared at her.

“No, Sir,” Y/n replied innocently and she noticed the very subtle change in his eyes. She was in for it now.

“Well funny enough I didn’t expect to find one of the finest medics in the company having a snowball fight with some of the replacements. We’re in a war zone for fuck sake. You’ve been through Bastogne, I’d have thought you could have been trusted, could have been relied on but…”

“Sir, it was just for a few minutes. We were back from the line by our billet. The boys are homesick, Sir.”

“HOMESICK. FUCKING HOMESICK! How long has it been since you’ve seen home, Corporal,” he demanded, his eyes wild and his jaw shaking with the effort to not explode.

“Nearly two years, Sir,” she muttered, toeing her boot into the floor.

“And how long has it been for them? Two weeks? If anyone should be homesick it’s us. The Toccoa men. The men who have been through hell and back and are still fighting. I rely on you to set a good example and if I can’t trust a medic. Well, who the hell can I trust?”

Y/n picked at the cuff of her frayed uniform, “will that be all, Sir?”

“Yes, you may go.”

Y/n saluted the Lieutenant before heading to the door, she was pulling it closed behind her when Speirs spoke. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” Y/n raised an eyebrow as she peaked around the edge of the door.

“A drink? I managed to find some half-decent whiskey that Captain Nixon had yet to drink. Would you like a glass?”

Y/n wasn’t sure what to say, she wanted to get the hell away from his harsh glare as soon as possible but she was also curious. Why did he suddenly want to have a drink with her? For all Y/n knew he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

“Ummm, alright. Thank you, Sir.”

Y/n took a seat on the dark, leather sofa to the left of the desk, cautiously on the edge in case she was mistaken and needed to make a run from an angry Lieutenant.

“Here,” Speirs hesitantly passed her a glass of the amber liquid and she took it gratefully, the alcohol burning her throat pleasantly as it slipped down. She hadn’t had good alcohol since the celebration when Easy received their jump wings. The rest of the time it had been lukewarm, foamy beer.

“So, how are you holding up?” Speirs watched her from afar, his dark eyes boring into her as he waited.

“I’m fine. Thank you, Sir.” How else was she supposed to reply? She couldn’t exactly tell him how much she hated the God-awful hell hole and could wait to be back somewhere that was warm and allowed her to feel her limbs once more.

“Good. That’s good.” Speirs swirled the orange liquid around his glass, having not taken a drink yet and instead glared at the liquid as if someone gave him a sour aftertaste without consuming it.

“Sir, is there something you wanted to discuss?” Y/n wanted answers, there were only so many times she could avoid his eye contact and swallow nervously.

“Not especially. I just… wanted some company.” Speirs admitted, turning to look out of the window onto the deserted streets below. Y/n sat very still, her eyes tracing over his frame, strong shoulders tensed, large hands leaning splayed against the window frame.

“I can feel you watching me,” Speirs spoke in a hushed tone but Y/n knew he heard her small intake of breath. “I always know when you're watching me.”

“Sir, I…”

“Don’t deny it. I watch you too, you know. I watch when you stock supplies, I watch you when you throw back your head and your eyes crease as you laugh. I watch you more than you realise.”

By this point, Speirs had turned to face her and Y/n didn’t know whether to be flattered or terrified as the lieutenant approached her.

“Sir?” Y/n couldn’t help the unsteadiness of her voice and her eyes grew wider as he knelt before her, his hands tracing up her thigh.

“We can’t deny ourselves of human touch, Corporal. Desires of the flesh”

“Lieutenant Speirs…Sir… I,” Y/n gasped as his hand slipped up further under her jacket, fumbling with the belt that secured her trousers. With his body hovering over her, Y/n couldn’t remember how to breathe, the air entered her lungs in short, sharp gasps as she felt his fingers travelling along the soft flesh of her stomach.

“Please,” she whispered, feeling completely pathetic but no longer able to care. “Please just touch me.”

“Oh Darling, I thought you’d never ask.”

Y/n wasn’t sure what happened next, the order of events was a blur but soon enough she was moaning into Ron’s neck, her hips rolling in time with the rhythm of his fingers against her clit. She withered beneath him, nails wracking down his clothed back but Ron didn’t seem to notice. The knot in Y/n’s stomach was tightening and she could feel her thighs beginning to shake with the effort of controlling herself from reeling off a string of profanities when the door flung open.

“Speirs, could you…” Lieutenant Winters stood frozen in the doorway, the apple in his hand long forgotten and his cheeks blushed the colour of the hair on his head. He gulped and Y/n felt herself trying to clamp her legs shut and move away from Ron but the grip he had on her hips was firm and unwavering.

“Yes, Major Winters?” Speirs asked as if he wasn’t seconds away from giving Y/n the orgasm of her life.

“I’ll come back at another time,” Winters shook his head avoiding eye contact with Y/n and pulling the door closed softly behind him. Y/n felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and glared up at Ron who was just smiling smugly at her.

“Ron, I swear to God…”

“Now, now or I’ll forget to play nice,” Ron winked at her and Y/n thought she could fall apart just from that one action. Her mouth snapped shut and Ron snickered, “That’s what I thought. Good girl.”

Tags: @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @lena-basilone @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike @malarkgirlypop

#ronald speirs x reader #band of brothers #ronald speirs #hbo war imagine #hbowar #ron speirs #Leuitenant Speirs #kinky Ron

[rossmccallsqueen]

HC - Having a baby with Joseph Liebgott ❤️

(I just need to state for the record that this is written for Ross McCall’s portrayal of Joseph Liebgott in Band of Brothers, not the actual person. Okay thank you pls continue)

You knew from the moment you met Joe that you wanted to have a family with him

Which was perfect because he told you he wanted a really big family

It took awhile after you started trying. It was happening for all of your friends and Joe’s friends wives but not you

Joe could see how sad you were every month when your period still came, so you agreed to stop trying for awhile and just let the universe speak for itself

And as they say it’ll happen when you least expect it because when you stopped trying was the month you found out you were pregnant and Joe was over the moon

Once he was able to tell people he would tell anyone that listened, including calling everyone from Easy to let them know that he was making good on all the little Liebgott’s he promised

You started to show pretty early on, making Joe think it was multiples

“Just because I’m a whale Joesph does not mean there’s more than one in there!”

“First of all dear I never said you were a whale Im pretty sure I called you sexy just this morning. Second, I’m just saying maybe we should ask Doc to check?”

“Okay fine, we will call the doctor!” You weren’t gonna let him win, because a mother would know if she was having twins right?

A mother would definitely know. And you knew you’d feel more kicks, which you didnt think you did but then again you felt them constantly so it was hard to tell the difference

Later that afternoon your doctor came to call, Joe letting him in right away because he wanted to be right 😂

“Alrighty what are we checking out today? You seemed fine last I saw you and you’re not due for another appointment until next month dear.”

“Joseph here thinks that there may be more than one baby in there because I’m a little bigger. Can you tell him that’s not true?”

“Let’s take a look. Sit down on the couch for me and we’ll check!” You did as told and Joe sat down next to you

You lifted up your shirt like you always did, and Doc took out his measuring tape and stethoscope

First he measured, Joe watching his every movement. You’d never paid much attention before but the look on Doc’s face after he measured.. you already knew Joe was right

“I’m just going to listen around to see if there’s more than one heartbeat okay? It might be a little cold.”

He moved around, making sure to listen to several different points around your belly, and he kept going back to two different spots

“Just tell me Doc, give it to me straight” 😂

“There’s definitely two babies in there Mrs. Liebgott. I’m afraid your husband is right!”

DANGIT not again you thought to yourself

After going back and forth with the doc to confirm it was in fact twins, including letting you listen to the stethoscope yourself to hear the heartbeats which was incredible

Joe was absolutely over the moon, he immediately called his parents to tell them that they wouldn’t just be getting one grand baby but two

A few hours later it was just you and Joe and you were laying in bed together

You were reading a book and Joe was just laying with his head in your lap rubbing your belly

He kept waiting for each baby to kick, absolutely enamored that there were two little ones in there

He absolutely loved your belly and had from the start. He loved resting his head against your bump, like he couldn’t get enough of it

He was proud of himself, and you knew he would be the best dad

“What do you think they will be? Two boys? Two girls? One of each? I don’t even care as long as they’re healthy.” You smiled, running your hand through his hair

You were only 20 weeks so you were only halfway there, and you knew Joe would dote on you even more as you continued

“I just can’t believe there will be two of them. Can we have more?” He asked, still rubbing your belly

“Slow your roll there pal, these ones need to be born first.” 😂

“I know I just can’t wait for them to get here” 🥺

Taglist: @itstheheebiejeebies @warmommy @eugeneroehoe @vintagemol @tvserie-s-world @rogue-barnes-durin-main

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#danielle writes #joseph liebgott #joe liebgot x reader #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott fluff #fluff #Headcanon #joseph liebgott baby #joseph liebgott Headcanon #joseph liebgott x reader fluff #hbo war #hbowar #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfiction #ross mccall #ross McCall fluff #ross McCall x reader