#nix fanfics

[nixotinix]

so,, theoretically, by a show of hands, how many people would be interested in reading the (theoretical) episode I wrote? Since we're so starved of all things g3 right now, I wrote an episode concept that of course has Jax and Holt in it, and I'm debating posting it on ao3,,,,

(who wants it)

((I decided it'll be fic format because I forgot how much I hate writing script format))

#monster high #monster high g3 #g3 #monster high fanfic #jackson jekyll #holt hyde #fanfic #i want #to show people #so you should say yes you wanna see it #pls #lot of theoreticals here #nix fanfics

[comfortless]

Deep Water

nix! König x fem! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. no.. intentional harm done to reader but there are sporadic mentions of murder (drowning), König is kind of a creep here do you guys forgive me (say yes), implied sex; dubcon everything. König is wearing a fishing net rather than the usual hood because. it made sense to me sorry.

notes: yet again, i have found that i can not manage to write anything except for silly fantasy nonsense… bear with me this will pass (it will not). if you’re uncertain of what a nix is, i recommend skimming over this (or tl;dr— a shapeshifting water spirit).

You’ve always been told to beware of the river, especially on nights like this. When the singing starts up you were to run, as far and as fast as your feet could carry you. It would be the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, as well as the last. Whatever beast lies in wait along the silt of the riverbed luring people in with its haunting song isn’t kind. The drowned bodies resurfacing bloated and paled are enough for the townsfolk to assume that assuredly, a monster lies in wait someplace within the glassy water.

For all of the fear, town myths were just that— myths.

As always, there’s no singing when you seat yourself on smooth, mossy stones by the river’s bank. The moon hangs low, casting its brilliant reflection on calm, dark water. The air is alive with the buzzing of cicadas clinging to the trees at your back and night birds calling out to the wind. Nothing is amiss; it’s only peaceful, and that’s why despite the warnings, you often find yourself here when the temperature is favorable.

There are nights when the river isn’t calm, and currents are the most reliable reasoning for the deaths from past summers. The water is full of large rocks with sharp corners, teeming with plants that could so easily snare an ankle, and when the water is frothing and cruel it’s no surprise that one could be thrashed to unconsciousness if they weren’t careful.

You didn’t come here to take your chances on swimming, anyhow.

If anything, it’s a mere reprieve from the bustle of the town. No one wanders here any more since the myths gained traction, passed from mouth to listening ears time and time again, leaving this place entirely untouched. Occasionally the obnoxious teenager would cross your path on the walk here, declaring loudly to their friends about how they supposedly saw some slimy beast, eyes like moonbeams and scales like razors lying on the bank.

During your little adventures here, you often carry a snack with you, but not for yourself. Tonight, it’s just a small package of vanilla flavored cookies. In truth, they were awful— dry and near flavorless, but you suspect your friend here wouldn’t mind too terribly much, and if it got them out of your pantry without wasting it was a win for the both of you.

When the large dorsal fin crests over the water mere meters from the bank, you gratuitously crush the treats in a closed fist and toss the crumbs into the water. Time and time again, you’ve fed the large animal, watching as it thrashes about just below the surface before disappearing back into its depths. You’ve never gotten a good look at it, either, but you imagine it must stretch out past your height or further; some sort of gar or sturgeon.

Just as many times before, it glides further in, fin entirely out of sight now. The only evidence of it ever appearing at all were the small waves rippling in its wake. All is quieted once more as you embrace the placid bliss, readying your small flashlight and losing yourself into the book perched in your lap.

The next night, you’re greeted by a large snake basking over the rock you typically sat upon. It lies still, coiled into itself as it regards you, forked tongue flicking out for several moments before it simply slithers off, hiding itself away beneath the moss and stone.

“Best to leave you alone, huh?,” you ask to it’s retreating tail, feeling a bit silly for speaking to the reptile at all. It doesn’t respond, of course, nor does it bother to come out of hiding either.

You opt to seat yourself on the hill overlooking the water instead.

You find that after a day occupied by tedious tasks, there truly was no greater place to abandon your woes than here. Everything was peaceful; wild yet simplistic. Even with all of the death that seemed to haunt this place, you never feared the thought of ghosts. You’ve even entertained your imagination a time or two, that if you ever did meet one, you would only ask it not to disturb the wildlife you have grown so fond.

There’s a freedom and a mystery to places like this, places without the foot traffic of other people. It brings with it a sense of whimsy, especially when you glance towards the water and see the surface reflecting every twinkling star above.

The fish doesn’t appear, even as you listen to the water in wait, your head tilted as you lie back on soft grass to watch for ripples, for the swell of a large fin moving beneath. Nothing. You read your book as the night progresses, nearly completing it entirely before you make your way back home.

Weeks pass by like this— work, river, home and repeat. Occasionally it’s the same large snake that greets you when you wander there, more often it’s the large fish circling about waiting for crumbs of whatever treat you choose to bring. The bank and the small hill overlooking it have become a separate home to you, one where you can be away with the fairies, talking to your animal friends that never seem to stick around for long.

When the weather grows warmer, you even dare to take a swim.

You’re stood on the slick stones of the bank, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. It’s not proper swimming attire, but you reason that you’re not at the beach, not a soul is around, and it doesn’t really matter at all that you might look a bit silly. The prospect of swimming along that behemoth below is a tad terrifying, but you wouldn’t dare to wander too far in. Maybe the fish would even be intelligent enough to not attempt to eat you after you’ve been so kind to it.

It’s hot, and with a sticky layer of sweat glossing your skin, your worries seem minuscule in light of an easy way of cooling off. You toe at the calm water for a moment, testing its temperature before willing yourself to take a step forward, then another before you seat yourself in the vibrant expanse of darkened blue. Here, you realize, is the best place to stargaze, too; they shimmer all around you, within reach as you tap at the surface of water, watching it undulate beneath the pressure of your fingertips.

You could reach the moon, too, if you swam further out. A few meters from the bank and you would be directly beneath its reflection, bathed in that ethereal glow.

You watch for your friend for a time, trying to prioritize your wariness over your whimsy. When the fish doesn’t tread by you, the water remaining calm, you rise to your feet and take slow, metered steps as the water parts and flows against your shins.

Though the river is disturbed no matter how gently you stride forward, nothing slides out from its depths in pursuit of you. Nothing happens at all when you reach out to splay your hand out against the reflection, the water now gently lapping against your stomach rather than your legs.

You hadn’t expected any sort of shift in your reality, that would be ridiculous, but perhaps some sort of clarity; a further calm for a weary mind. It doesn’t come, and with a disheartened splash you wade your way back towards the shore.

This has been your sanctuary for some time. Excusing the snake, there’s not been any sort of threat to you, not here. A safe water world all your own. Though, that peace is shattered the moment that you make it to the bank and hear the water shift some small distance behind you. Turning your head, you’re met with the sight of a man, the bulky muscular silhouette towering in the patch of moonlight you had just stood in. Bright blue eyes catch the light, reflecting like an animal’s as you scramble back to where you’ve left your shorts.

He stands there, silent and unmoving like an obelisk even as you hastily dress yourself with a thundering heart and breaths that sound more or less like gasps, senses heightened by your panic as you turn tail to run.

No one had been there. You were sure of it when you sunk into the water. There was no sound when this person had swam over to take your place. He was just there, as if he had been the entire time and you somehow failed to notice.

You make your way into the woods framing this place, hurried steps and untied shoelaces. You don’t even bother with your flashlight.

Finding your way back home with aches in every muscle, the desperate rampage you had taken to get away finally coming to a close when the door slams shut behind you, you quickly shower and mull over what’s just happened. A ghost, perhaps. It had to of been. Any other person would have made noise in their approach, especially being that big. The mind could play its tricks; what you had seen was likely not even there at all— a terrifying figment of your imagination. That sets you at ease, somewhat, but not enough.

You don’t sleep well that night, tucked beneath your blanket and staring at the filtered moonlight through your curtains. Work isn’t on your mind at all come morning until your phone chimes with a notification from your manager, questioning your tardiness. A languid crawl out of bed follows, another shower, an unsatisfying breakfast, all before you opt to send a text back to let him know you won’t be in today.

It could be excused, you’re reliable and decent enough at the job; not one to boast, but far more eager to please than the rest of your coworkers. You would be entirely useless if you went in on no sleep, you reason.

You don’t want to go back there, not under the veil of night, but you find yourself horribly curious the longer that you bide your time indoors. You had to know if the thing that you saw was really there, had to calm your nerves. What if he had always been watching each time, and you simply hadn’t noticed? The forest bordering the river is terribly dark at night, anyone could crouch behind the shield of a tree and remain undetected until they willed the courage to drag you in, cup a palm over your mouth to silence your cries.

Maybe it was the monster the people in town rumored about.

The thought of some strange, silent thing living beneath the water waiting for an opportune moment to take you by the neck and drag you down to the silty floor to watch you drown horrified you. Yet, that’s the one conclusion that sticks. Those eyes… so lurid and haunting, no human being had eyes like that.

You inhale sharply, steeling your nerves as reach for a pocket knife for defense, toss it into the bag slung over your shoulder, and storm out the door.

The trek there is nothing short of dull.

No matter where you look, what shadows rise up beneath the dim glow of a falling sun, there’s nothing out in the woods. The river is equally tame. The water babbles over rock, cicadas buzz off in the distance, and not a thing seems amiss. Your search for footprints that don’t belong to the soles of your shoes turns up empty. The only thing that suggests just maybe it wasn’t all in your head is the book you had neglected to retrieve in your fear the night before.

The cover, every page within, now warped as though it had been pulled into the water and spit out to dry. You pick it up, peeling through damp pages, running your fingertips over the smeared ink. It’s possible that a particularly aggressive splash could have sullied it, but something tells you that that isn’t the case. Either way, it’s unreadable now. You sulk a bit as you slip the ruined thing into your bag and step towards the smooth stones to watch the water instead.

Night creeps in slowly with you there, and you’re on high alert for a time before you begin to relax as usual. Even giggle to yourself at how silly it was you believed you saw a ghost at all as you entertain yourself by skipping small stones across the water.

No large snake, no massive fish, no titan of a man appears before you, only a calming crescent moon and a few wandering wood ducks, gliding down from the bank to splash about. A thought comes to mind as the calm emboldens you: what would happen if you got in just one more time?

There’s nothing to suggest that you’re playing with fire as you leave your shoes neatly in the dry sand. If the ducks could swim unbothered by fish or men, then surely you could, too. You watch the little creatures a distance away as they dip their heads beneath the surface and chitter away amongst themselves while you take your first step in.

You don’t dare to go as far this time, stopping when the water brushes over your knees. You wait there while time seems to slow to a crawl, expecting the absolute worst, glancing further down the river, dipping your hand below the glassy surface until your fingertips brush the sand beneath.

It’s horribly hot and you’re still exhausted from the sleepless night before. The water feels nice, and you feel as though you have some sort of claim to it as you’ve been here more often than anyone else would dare to. Ghosts and monsters be damned, you seat yourself and let the water lap over your shoulders, tilting your head back to watch the stars.

When the singing begins it takes a moment to register just what it is that you’re hearing. It’s not beautiful, not like the myths have said. It’s hissed, a low whisper, a mockery of what a human song would sound like. The voice is rasped, lilted yet cold. The realization that it sings words from your book of poetry is what terrifies you the most, the warped pages all making sense now.

Your eyes dart to either side of you, forward, before realizing the voice is coming from behind you. Cold spreads through your veins as you try to force yourself to stand, but in your fear you find yourself petrified, rooted in water that would surely become your grave.

You can’t bring yourself to turn around, to inevitably find your eyes locked onto the shadowy frame of a man far too large, his eyes glistening and pale like the moon hanging above.

The voice pauses when it finds you unmoving, and you can hear the rustle of the creature shifting its weight where it’s stood on the rocks lining the bank. You’ve no clue how deep the river gets, where the opposite side leads, but your only chance of escape seems to be swimming through in the hopes that this thing doesn’t choose to chase after you. A part of you knows that he would, that that is exactly what he expects you to do, goading you to flee deeper with his eerie song so that he can drown you just as he did the others.

You do the opposite as you squeeze your eyes shut and crawl back towards the bank, making sure to keep some distance despite your willful blindness. You wouldn’t look at it, wouldn’t talk to it, you would just go home and never come back.

“Best to leave you alone, hm?”

You still as your fingers brush against wet moss, the voice no longer a whisper but loud, loud as it echoes your words from days past just above you. Beating back your own curiosity proves futile, because you look up at the damned thing then, expecting to see an impossible terror before you, sharp fangs wet with blood and appendages too spindly reaching out for you. Instead, you see only a man.

He’s crouched, only a meter or so away, and you immediately recognize his broad figure. The same as the night before. From this distance you can make out the finer details, the length of net covering his face and neck, the webbing between each finger. Still a scary sight, but only in the way it’s unfamiliar and imposing rather than instilling any sort of primordial fear.

“Excuse me?” You pull yourself fully out of the water, rising to your feet and taking a tentative step back. You’re prepared to run, a coil pulled too tight on the verge of snapping.

The man, creature, whatever he may be just tilts his head, lets the silence hang in the air for a moment before he has the audacity to laugh whether to himself or at the strange, bewildered expression on your face.

His stare is assessing as he sucks in a breath, follows suit in rising to his full height. From the size of him alone, you know you’re not getting away. A mere stride for him would be two or more for you, a deliberate tug of your wrist from him could snap it in an instant.

Yet, he doesn’t reach for you, only gestures toward your bag lying on the ground with a subtle flick of a finger. You give him a quizzical glance in turn, not bothering to retrieve it. You could come back during the day with a friend, gather it and never return. Only, your knife sits somewhere inside, the only protection that you’ve got. The realization spurs you to bend over and toss the strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll… I’ll be going now.”

The stare remains fixed upon you as you take another step back, blinking slowly every now and then as you both remain in some strange stasis.

It takes you a moment to put the pieces together. The reciting of words from the book, the mimicking of the words spoken to the snake, the hint at your bag… he’s expecting something and it’s not to steal away your life, only to be fed and have your company. It’s not charming, it’s awfully strange and eerie, but you find yourself giggling at the prospect of taming some murderous, shapeshifting monster with subpar treats and poetry.

You pull open the bag, searching for anything you may have brought along that he could eat, eventually prying out a small package and offering it out to him.

“Is this what you want?,” you ask, voice hushed and trembling.

He shakes his head, rustling the net cloaking him in the process. So, he understands, he’s just been willfully ignoring every other thing you’ve said prior. You store the package away with a perturbed expression crossing over your face.

“Then what?”

Any relief you had felt seems to dwindle when the giant takes a half-step closer. His skin is cool and wet as the river as he brushes his hand over your forearm, curling a set of fingers around it. The touch is gentle, but there’s a promise of violence lurking somewhere in the depths of his eyes.

“Come with me,” he urges in that harsh whisper from before, delicately squeezing as he pulls you towards him, leading you back to the river with a tight grip and a step back over the stones. Though his touch is passive, there’s a frightening strength lurking someplace beneath his flesh, tacked to bone, and as your gaze trails lower to rest to rest at your feet, the space between you two, the evidence of a life prone to violence and strength is laid bare before you.

You don’t fight the hold as he leads you to water so deep it caresses the base of your neck, right below the milky glow of a waning moon. Deeper still, as you’re pulled below, pressed down to the very bottom with his body lain over you. You can only hold your breath so long before an involuntary gasp leaves you, and a wave is funneled straight into your lungs.

Panic is fleeting, but the adrenaline stays ever-present. You claw, push, kick, to no avail. Pinned down by a hand weighing like an anchor you feel your vision flooding and hazy as his head knocks against your jaw, mouth sealing tightly over yours. It’s not a gentle kiss, the net fashioned into a hood digs into your skin, teeth scrape over your lip until you feel the sting of blood drawn.

All at once, your vision darkens and it’s over.

You find yourself lying back on the shore as the morning sun warms your face, causes your dampened shirt to cling to your skin. Disoriented, but alive, brushing your thumb over your lower lip as you sit up to stare at the subtle waves lapping over moss and rock.

Just a dream, you tell yourself, knowing full well you hadn’t fallen asleep.

Just a dream, even though you avoid the river entirely now. Your route home from work changes too, avoiding even a glimpse of the path that leads down to that place. You don’t even replace the book, you toss what remains of it after fishing through your bag, murmuring something about it surely being cursed and entertain yourself with film at night instead.

Sleep remains tentative, you wake with every sound, and your dreaming is filled with visions of a figure pushing you down into deep water, his weight bearing down upon you so heavily that you can not move until you wake with a start, eyes searching your bedroom.

Several weeks, and the fear does eventually fade.

The morning that the rain begins to fall, you realize you haven’t even thought about the river in days. There’s no monster prowling your nightmares anymore. You lived through what may or may not have occurred, and that was the end of it, simple as it may have been.

A late shift at work has you wandering out into the rain, umbrella in hand. You’re grateful that you live close, that you’re not entirely soaked to the bone when you step inside of the mundane building. Your coworkers notice your change in demeanor immediately, chirping about how glad they are that you’re finally feeling better, looking more yourself as the hours pass you by. It brings a smile to your face, a real one that you haven’t had in place since that last night.

Even in the summer, there’s a chill to the air in the late afternoon as you hurry home from work and make your way inside, stripping out of your wet clothes and setting your umbrella aside. It’s darker outside than it should be, even more so indoors. Reaching for the switch to turn on the lights proves useless— the power’s out.

You light your way with your phone, ignoring the way your pulse quickens and your heart flutters with the fear that something just doesn’t feel right. Your skin prickles with the thought of some unseen pair of eyes watching you, blue and cold. You only relax when you slam your bedroom door shut, locking it and pressing your forehead to the wood as you sigh. The puff of breath that escapes your lips is not the only in the room, you find out when the light of your phone illuminated your bed. Crouched beside it, a towering figure with a face veiled by fishing net. Words don’t come when you open your mouth to speak, and your heart stutters in your chest as you stand shaking but otherwise petrified.

“You didn’t come back.”

Of course you hadn’t.

Most people wouldn’t have.

“No. I’ve been… busy,” you choke out the excuse, hoping to pacify whatever emotion you imagine lurked beneath his tone, undetectable through the hiss of his voice. “I’ll visit soon, promise,” you lie, back pressed against the door as your fingers curl over the knob.

Your fear seems almost unwarranted. He doesn’t move toward you, only stands to wander back to the window where he must have broken in.

“Tonight?,” he asks in a voice so soft, the voice he must use as a lure because tugs at your heartstrings immediately, makes you want to follow despite the threat this thing poses merely by existing, despite everything.

“It’s cold— I’ll get sick,” you murmur. “How did you even find me..?”

“I will keep you warm.” The question goes unanswered.

You find yourself stifled again as he lumbers towards you, brushing cold fingers across the side of your face. It’s not a mockery of a kiss you receive next but a firm bite where your neck meets shoulder, not yet hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make you shiver, to grip at the wall of muscle that makes up his chest.

There’s a desperation to his movements as he herds you towards the window, pushes you toward the path leading back to the river. You’re soaked to the bone in seconds, hardly able to keep your eyes open past the weight of dampened eyelashes. The rain is so heavy it feels as though every step is like the first you took into cursed water, your feet sinking into the mud along the path with each tentative stride. The realization that you’re there doesn’t even hit you until you’re chest-deep in the chill, violent waves pushing against you, each carrying the threat of toppling you over entirely.

The palm splayed out against your bare back keeps you upright, leading you to a smooth rock jutting out in the midst of what seems a sea of frothing white and blue. The sea above is just as dark, angry clouds roaring as you’re pressed down onto your back, shivering terribly.

He keeps his promise though, a tight grip on each thigh as he pries your legs apart, sinks in between them and blankets you from the rain. Even with the cold pressed to your back, you feel the warmth of a summer sun above you, scorching from inside, just as blazing as the look in his wild eyes. The last of any resolve slips when you’re pulled beneath the violent waves, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses coaxing oxygen into your lungs. Each roll and pull no less tumultuous than the waves overhead. A placid end when the rain comes to an impromptu halt, just as he stills over you. Hands rush to cup your face with one final, desperate and biting kiss.

When the morning sun pulls you from sleep, cool moss against your back and the weight of his head resting over your middle, the shallow water lapping lazily at your figure, you find that you no longer fear drowning.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #könig #konig #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #konig fanfiction #i have been mulling over this for an eternity sorry it needed to be extracted from my brain #he is absolutely more lycanthrope coded to me but whoosh whatever nix König be upon ye #also apologies to everyone for not writing much lately and the fact this is hardly a real fic #cursed by the sleepy i just need a 10yr long nap #<- in my ‘in denial about burnout’ era

[mads-nixon]

Night Changes

Lewis Nixon x Wife!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: thanks to @footprintsinthesxnd for inspiring me to finally finish this wip from back in october!! for once, this isn't a heart-wrenching fic that makes you cry your eyes out...it's super fluffy!! 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: 1.5k

Warnings: morning sickness & pregnancy, nothing else except for tooth-rotting fluff :)

Nixon, New Jersey: April 1950

"What are you thinking, sweetheart?"

"What?" (Y/n) sighed, glancing towards her husband from where she sat on the floor.

A chuckle left Lewis' lips as he gestured to the various paint colors on portions of the wall. "Which one? Pink, purple, blue, or yellow?"

Rolling over to her side, (y/n) attempted to get up. With her swollen stomach, it made everything ten times harder than usual.

Lew rushed to her side, "Honey, let me help you."

"I've got it," she grunted, somewhat out of breath.

(Y/n) tried and failed a few times, then let out a huff of air, sighing as she held out her hands for Lew to come and help her up.

He smiled softly, moving to help lift her. "I thought you had it that time."

"Your child has been making things harder on me, lately."

Once they stood up, Lew pulled her close, his hand on her bump. "My child? I'm pretty sure we both made this baby."

(Y/n) pulled back with a look of disgust, fake gagging. "Please don't remind me."

With his signature grin, he pulled her back in, trying to plant a kiss on her lips. "No," she laughed, leaning away to evade his kisses. "We've got to pick out the color for the nursery, Lew!"

"So now you want to get on task, huh?"

(Y/n) giggled as she continued to swerve her husband's kisses. "Yes! We have to get this done!"

"Alright," he conceded. "Just one kiss. Please?"

With an exaggerated eye roll, (y/n) leaned in and pecked his lips quickly. "Come on, doll. One more," he pleaded.

"Nope. You'll get more once we get done picking out the color."

He led her to the wall with the colors and mock saluted her. "Alright, then. Captain Nixon is focused on his next objective."

They had decided to go with the soft yellow because it was more gender-neutral, even though both felt deep down that it was a girl. Staring at their halfway-finished nursery, (y/n) couldn't help but think back to when it all started the year before.

Indianapolis, Indiana: July 1949

The Nixons sat at the Easy Company reunion with Lip, Dick, and their respective spouses. While the guys all talked, (y/n) spoke with Ethel Winters and JoAnne Lipton about everything from baking to babies. Ethel and Dick had been married for a little over a year and were about to start trying for children. JoAnne and Carwood already had a son, so she told the two women how wonderful it was to be a mom. Hard, but wonderful.

The woman pulled out a picture of the three of them with a proud smile on her face. "Danny turns three next month. He's a spitting image of Car, that's for sure. I love him more than anything in this world."

Looking over at her husband enthralled in a conversation with his best friends, she couldn't help but imagine Lew as a father; holding their little baby in his arms or putting them up on his shoulders. (Y/n) knew he didn't have a good relationship with his father and would do everything to be there for their future children.

She was broken out of her trance by Lew's hand squeezing her thigh gently. "You alright, sweetheart? Why are you crying?"

Eyed widening, she went to wipe the tear that streaked down her cheek, but he beat her to it. "What's wrong?" He asked, eyes full of concern.

"Let's have a baby."

Lewis was taken aback by his wife's bluntness. Sure, they had talked about having kids but had decided to wait a few more years. Hearing that she changed her mind filled his with the same sweet images that appeared in hers moments before. If he was being honest, he had felt ready for a few months but didn't want to mention it to her until she approached him first.

He took her hand and excused them from the table as he led her to the lobby area of the venue. As soon as they turned the corner, Lewis' strong arms enveloped her in a tender embrace, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Their lips met softly, mouths melding together gently. It was a tender and loving kiss that expressed their shared devotion and longing for the next chapter of their lives.

With a gentle smile, they broke apart, their hands still entwined. The room seemed to radiate with the energy of their love and the endless possibilities that lay before them.

"Is that a yes?" (Y/n) asked, short of breath.

He kissed her gently, eye glistening with unshed tears. "Yes, let's start a family."

Nixon, New Jersey: November 1949

It was a cold and rainy morning when (y/n) stirred in bed, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her once again. This was the third morning in a row, and her eyes flickered over to Lew, who was fast asleep beside her. She always joked that even a freight train wouldn’t wake him up. Clutching her stomach, she quickly sat up, her heart racing as her body was trying to give her a few seconds of warning. (Y/n) barely had time to get to the bathroom, her steps hurried and unsteady as she covered her mouth with her hand. 

Reaching the bathroom just in time, (y/n) dropped to her knees, her body convulsing with dry heaves initially, followed by her dinner from the night before. The sensation was accompanied by a rush of relief, but the butter taste lingered in her mouth. 

Stirred by the sounds from the bathroom, Lew realized something was wrong and came rushing into the bathroom, concern etched across his features. He kneeled beside her, gathering her hair and rubbing her back soothingly. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked worriedly, his voice raspy from sleep.

“I don’t know, Lew,” (y/n) replied weakly. “This nausea just won’t go away.”

“I think that we should get you to the doctor,” Nix suggested, worried she might have caught a nasty stomach bug.

She nodded, her mind already racing with a suspicion she dared not speak aloud just yet. “Yeah, maybe,” she answered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

After Lew left for work, (y/n) decided to visit the doctor to get some answers. Anticipation and nervousness bubbled within her as the test was administered. The minutes felt like hours, but finally, the doctor confirmed what she had hoped for – she was pregnant.

Unable to contain her excitement, she hurried back home, her heart bursting with joy. The second she got home, she walked past their extra bedroom, inspiration striking her. The sun cast a soft, golden hue through the lace curtains, illuminating the extra room that held years of collected odds and ends. (Y/n) stood at the threshold, groaning at the old boxes, forgotten furniture, and random oddities that filled the room.

She had a lot of work cut out for her.

After putting on a Nat King Cole album, she took a deep breath and rolled up her sleeves, beginning the task at hand. As she meticulously sorted through the belongings, memories danced in her mind – the dusty bookshelf that held Lew’s childhood favorites, the old rocking chair her mother had gifted her, and the worn-out toys that once brought her so much joy. 

With every box she emptied and every piece of furniture she carefully moved, the room started to transform. The clutter began to vanish, making way for her vision of a nursery filled with love and laughter. She could almost visualize the crib nestled by the window, sunlight streaming in, casting a warm glow on the tiny cradle.

Time seemed to fly as she got lost in the whirlwind of her excitement. As the clock ticked on, (y/n) meticulously organized, cleaned, and dusted, pouring herself into every corner. By the time Nix got home from work, she had cleared out most of the clutter. Her eyes held a sparkle of pride as she surveyed her progress, already lost in the thoughts of cradling their newborn baby in this very room.

Lew opened the door, calling out to her as he did every day. “Honey, I’m home.”

As he put his briefcase onto the kitchen table, he noticed the random items and boxes that were scattered around the kitchen. With a raised eyebrow, he stepped over the clutter and followed the sound of (I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons to the couple’s extra bedroom.

“(Y/n)?” Lew asked as he entered the room, his eyes flicking between the few things left inside.

A rocking chair…

Some old toys…

His old bookshelf filled with children’s books…

She stood in front of the window with a hand covering her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Hey,” she whispered.

Lew’s brows instantly furrowed and he approached her, taking her into his arms. “What’s wrong, doll?”

“I’m happy.”

“You’re happy,” he pondered aloud, “But you’re crying.”

(Y/n) pulled back to look up at his puzzled face. “Yeah.”

“Why the sudden inspiration to clean out the crap in here?”

“Well,” she grinned up at him, her bottom lip wobbling as she spoke. “Our baby can’t have a room full of random stuff, can they?”

As (y/n) looked at him expectantly, he nodded with raised brows. “Yeah, yeah.”

But then his eyes widened suddenly and Lew’s gaze flew to hers. “The what?”

Tag List: @softguarnere @flowers-and-fichte @inglourious-imagines @peggyvan @rebeccapearson @hxad-ovxr-hxart @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @titiglt @stvrkdream @multifandomfanfic @starlordsatellite @blvestxr @iceman-kazansky @bucky32557038ww2 @sofietargaryen @liptonsbabe @leximus98

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!! <3

#lewis nixon x reader #lew nixon x reader #lewis nixon x reader fluff #lewis nixon #lewis nixon imagines #hbo war #band of brothers #hbowar #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #nix #nix x reader #nixon x reader #band of brothers x readers #lew nixon #lewis nixon fluff

[mads-weasley]

Summary: After (y/n) signs up for the WAC's Athena Program, she joins the war with Easy Company, unaware of how much her life will change over the next few years.

Enchanted

Out of the Woods

Haunted

Evermore

Breathe

Daylight

Paris

You Are In Love

Lover

State of Grace

Labyrinth

You’re On Your Own, Kid

Forever Winter

Soon You'll Get Better

Right Where You Left Me

Castles Crumbling

Innocent - on break until spring 2024!!

epiphany playlist

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

#band of brothers #mads' fandoms #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brother imagine #band of brothers masterlist #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers series #band of brothers x you #band of brothers x y/n #lewis nixon #lewis nixon imagines #lewis nixon imagine #lewis nixon angst #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon fluff #nix #lewis nixon x reader angst #dick winters #richard winters #easy company x reader #easy company imagines #easy company imagine #wwii #world war 2 #101st airborne division #hbo war #ronald speirs #bill guarnere

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 1: The Fall

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Synopsis: What will happen when some of Easy Company's finest soldiers fall through a foxhole and into another time?

Words: 1,314

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Author's Note: HERE WE GO LADS!! The first chapter of my self-serving BoB time travel fic!! If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know !!

Luz was the last one to arrive on the ground, immediately crashing into Malarkey with a resounding thud… Well, resounding for someone as small as Luz. He was the last to drop onto the pile of Easy Company men - a giant pile of limbs, helmets, and olive drab was groaning in pain, bewildered eyes darting in every direction. One minute they were dropping into a foxhole in Bastogne. The next?

Winters was the first to jump to his feet, helping his men find their footing. Up came Nixon, Liebgott, Roe, Guarnere, and Bull Randleman. Speirs and Toye had gotten themselves up and situated, looking to make sure they had all their gear. Luz was still on the ground, trying to get his bearings, while poor Malarkey was doubled over underneath him. “FUCK, LUZ!” Cried Malarkey, his hands shooting to his ribs as his body folded in pain. “I think you broke something!” Malarkey’s feet rammed themselves into Luz’s back, flinging the soldier off of Malarkey and onto his stomach with an “oof!”

“You say that like I did it on purpose!” Luz cried, wincing from the boots in his back. By the time George finally got his feet beneath him, Roe was already looking at Malarkey’s side, inspecting his injury.

The Cajun grimaced and shook his head. “It might be broke, Malark. We should get you to the aid station,” Roe spoke thoughtfully. "Which way sho-" Before the medic could finish his thought, all the boys realized something. They had no idea where they were.

The boys all looked around and took in their surroundings. “Where the fuck are we?” each soldier thought to himself, attempting to find a single scrap of familiarity in the landscape around them. The higher they looked, the taller the walls on either side of the group grew - not tall enough to be skyscrapers, but tall enough to tell the ten men that they were not in Bastogne anymore. What was once a frigid warzone, one step away from death, now became… warm? Sunny? Well, it seemed sunny at the ends of the alleyway.

“...are we in an alley?” Bull mused to no one in particular. He absentmindedly chewed on his Emotional Support Cigar, using this to contain his anxious thoughts and energy.

"It appears so Bull…" Winters replied. He had intended for the sentence to be more assuring, but the men's leader was just as confused as the rest of them. The captain exchanged a glance with Nixon beside him, the only man he was comfortable sharing his worry with. The two looked at each other, their eyes conveying confusion mixed with anxiety - how could this happen? What exactly happened?

"Captain Nixon, you're an intelligence officer right? Do you know where we are sir?" Guarnere asked as he slung his rifle over his shoulder, still taking in the alley around them. The brick buildings on either side of the men provided shade from the sun shining down on the pavement. The alley appeared to be barren, save for a Hershey bar wrapper beside Luz's feet. Bending down to get a closer look, the radioman saw a piece of text on the wrapper that morphed his confusion into panic - "expires January 2023." Before Nixon could answer Guarnere, Luz's shaky voice spoke up.

"Um, Captain Winters? You might wanna see this sir," Luz said as he handed the wrapper to his CO, his mind going a mile a minute. Dick took the wrapper from George and saw the text, scrunching his face as he read the expiration date.

"Nix, how long does it take chocolate to expire?" Winters asked, looking up at his captain.

"Why the hell do you think I'd know that?" Nixon replied, one eyebrow halfway up his forehead. Only after Lewis posed his question did he see the infamous date on the wrapper. Nixon paused for a second before he spoke up, "well surely it would expire way before 2023…"

Upon hearing the year, every man's eyes became the size of dinner plates. "Excuse me, sir? I think I heard you wrong, sounded like you said 2023," Liebgott questioned, a nervous chuckle following his words. He couldn't have heard Nixon right…right? Winters simply handed the wrapper over to Liebgott, the poor man's stomach dropping down below his feet.

"That's not possible, this isn't possible…" Toye muttered under his breath, trying to shake the idea from his head. While all the men were trying to process what Nixon said, Speirs had already made his way to the end of the alley.

"Captain Winters!" He called out, twisting his body to call out behind where he was standing. Winters nodded to Nixon, a silent request to keep an eye on his men, before making his way down to Speirs. The warm sun at the end of the alley was a welcomed surprise to Dick - it felt like forever since he felt mild, comfortable weather. Bastogne was the literal manifestation of hell frozen over, and the sun kissing Dick's skin was its absolute anathema. "Sir, I don't think this is Bastogne," Speirs' comment shook Winters from his mind, reminding the captain of the problem at hand. The two took in the scene around them. Winters thought he was seeing cars - they had four wheels, and they were driving on the street, but they were far beyond any car anyone in the company has ever seen before. The soldiers seem to have landed in a city of some kind. All the street signs were in English, giving Winters a small amount of relief - wherever they were, they spoke the language. Something different stood out to Speirs, though… the noise. It was not bombs exploding and trees breaking like in Bastogne. It was just as loud, but more…lively? The sounds, whatever they were, seemed to celebrate life rather than take it - honking horns, vehicles driving by, music Speirs had never heard before blaring from their windows - he would never admit to it, but Speirs felt a pang of relief knowing he was not in a war zone.

"I'm inclined to agree with you, Ron," Dick replied before hearing their medic call out.

"Sir! We need to get Malarkey to the ai- uh… I guess a hospital," Eugene called out as he made his way towards Winters and Speirs, supporting Easy's other redhead on his shoulder. Malarkey's face twisted in pain as he held his side with the arm that was not slung over Roe's shoulders. Dick nodded in understanding at his medic and stepped a foot out of the alley, getting a better look at the buildings around him. To his right, Winters spotted the red cross universally associated with medicine displayed prominently on a tall, light-colored building riddled with mirrored windows. Beneath the cross were the words "Emergency Room."

"You think they can help Malarkey?" Speirs asked, hopeful but confused at the words. Seeing Roe holding up Malarkey, the officer quickly made his way to Malarkey's other side, taking his arm over his shoulder to help the soldier.

"It's worth a shot, wait here," Winters replied, heading back to the rest of the men to tell them the plan. "Alright men, there's a place that looks like a hospital a short walk from here. Keep your guard up. Just because it doesn't look like Bastogne, doesn't mean we're in friendly territory," he instructed the six men before him, "Keep Speirs, Malarkey, and Roe in the center, I'll lead the way to the hospital." A chorus of "yes sirs" was heard from Luz, Liebgott, Guarnere, Toye, and Bull, while Nixon nodded in understanding and walked up beside Winters.

"Are you sure about this?" Nixon asked under his breath, ensuring only Winters heard his question.

"Got any better ideas?" Dick replied, cautiously emerging onto the sidewalk. The men left the safe haven of their alley and began the trek to save their friend.

~~~~~

Chapter Two

Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me what you think and be on the lookout for Chapter 2: the Hospital!!

Taglist: @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @executethyself35 , @stolen94 , @dontirrigateme

#should've been born later nix #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #hbo #hbo war #easy company #my writing #time travel #credit to pic owners in chapter collage!! #easy company x oc #richard winters #dick winters #lewis nixon #eugene roe #ronald speirs #joe liebgott #george luz #donald malarkey #bill guarnere #joe toye #bull randleman #emily shut up

[wr1ghtw0rth]

Same person from the previous ask, I would love fic recs thanks!

Dear Anon, please apologize my belated response!

Here's the fanfics that inspired Mr. Nix;

In the Kingdom of the Moon by potatomin

This is a fairytale AU, Prince Miles is trying to catch a phantom thief while also befriending a baker and getting ready to be crowned.

Two sides of Justice by Animepaige

An AU in which Edgeworth is chief of police, trying to catch a firey vigilante that has shown up around town, as well as befriending a familiar looking baker that opened their bakery just beside the police station.

Both of these are AUs and deal with supernatural powers, but I really enjoyed these stories x)

#ace attorney #kit talks #fanfic rec #narumitsu #wrightworth #mr. nix #fics that inspired Mr. Nix

[oatmilksgf]

HELLO !! IM WTITING TMA FIC !! WOULD ANYONE BE INTERESTED IN READING IT MAYBAPS !!!! I HAVE JONMARTIN BRAIN ROT!!!!

#like i’m gonna post it anyway but #shut up nix (etc) #(jonmartin brainrot wip) #<<< thats the tag for this wip form now on ive decided #can i tag this in the usual tumblr way so people can find it <4 #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #tma fanfic #tma fandom #tma shitpost

[courier-nix]

Still reposting old art. I touched this one up a bit but not much. It's my courier taking a picture of the King and Rex. This was a scene from my fanfic

From 2023 at some point

#fallout new vegas #fallout nv #fanart #the king fnv #courier nix #fnv #the king #rex fnv #rex #courier six #fnv courier #nwab fanfic

[couriernix]

The King and Pacer sharing a match :) maybe soon I'll share some headcannons about them.

I loved doing this sketch and comparing how different and how the same they are in terms of looks. Pacer was always a bit more gruff looking in the game, while the King seemed more put together (I mean really, he keeps a white jacket clean).

Here's the reference I used. I got it from pinterest and I'm honestly not certain what it's from.

#courier nix #fallout new vegas #fnv #fallout new vegas fanart #fanfic link pinned on blog :) #courier six #the king fnv #the kings fnv #fanart #pacer fnv #pacer #the king fallout #sketch #drawing

[spirkme915]

anyone have spirk fic recs that are hardcore longing/pining/slow burn? i’m talking painful want over years….

#spirk #spirk fic #spirk fanfiction #k/s #k/s fanfic #nix personal log

[nixotinix]

Haven't posted about it here, but to celebrate the spooky day in the only way I know how, I wrote up a little 1.5k word fanfiction revolving around the trick or treatment and holt being depressed (mostly holt being depressed :]) so UHHH read it pretty pls?

#monster high #holt hyde #nix fanfics #halloween #ghouls rule #spooky season #trick or treatment #not a v long fic but like. i tried to be all poetic #lmk if it worked this isnt a writing style im used to #pretty please read it :]

[theweirdgoodbyes]

misadventures at nix’s tavern

“Joe, you’re fired.”

“No, I’m not.”

Lewis Nixon put his head in his hands and wonders why the fuck this needed to be happening today of all days. Despite never advertising as such, but possibly having to do with his brusque employees and inability to keep a female hire, Nix’s Tavern had gotten the reputation as both an Irish bar and a gay bar; March 17th and June 28th were their busiest days of the year. It was the morning of Saint Patrick’s Day and all hands were on deck to keep shit as together as possible: Joe was an active hindrance to that. Joe, all 135 pounds of him, was his best bartender and worst nightmare rolled into one. He could make a drink quicker and better than anyone, was never late, and managed to piss off everyone who stepped in the door, highlighted by last night’s disaster.

“Joe, don’t do this to me today. C‘mon, man.”

“You can’t fire me. What did I do wrong?” Joe, who he doesn’t even remember hiring by the way, throws his arms up.

“What did you-Joe, do you remember calling a woman a troglodyte last night? Because I do. Do you remember her throwing one of my martini glasses at your head? You still smell like olives.”

“I didn’t call her a troglodyte, I called her boyfriend one,” Joe shrugs, looking back at the bar he had been summoned from, “Can I get back to my prep?”

“Her boyfriend, oh, my deepest apologies,“ Nix presses his hands together in mock remorse, “Yes, you called her boyfriend a troglodyte. That makes it so much better. Joe, I cannot fucking have you here tonight. Just go home. Please, man.”

“You can’t expect Welsh and Luz to be on bar alone!” Joe cries, pointing at the two other bartenders who are supposed to be cutting limes but seem to be having more fun balancing shot glasses on their palms.

“They have each other. Put the fucking glass down, George!” George shoots Nix a quick thumbs up before the three glasses he has balancing in his other hand fall to the floor and shatter. George just gives him a shrug. God, this day needs to be done with already.

“Lew, are you fucking stupid?”

“Stupid for letting you work here? Stupid for opening this place? I’m the biggest idiot on fucking earth.”

“Lew,” Joe says, as serious as Joe can ever be, “I’ll be good tonight. Promise.” It’s a bold faced lie, but they both know that Joe needs to be here. A fact that Nix hates and Joe will never let him forget. For all his flaws and abilities to irritate the shit out of most of their customers, Joe had been a godsend after Buck quit.

“Joe, I swear to God,” Nix says, the same warning he’s given him time and time again, “Last chance.”

“Last chance.” Joe gives him a shit eating grin and a wink before getting up from their table and heading back to the bar, grabbing a pan and broom on the way to clean up George’s mess.

Joe fucking Liebgott, Nix laments as he gets up and makes him way to the kitchen to check on Malarkey, I hope you get your ass kicked tonight.

Enjoy this little add on to my other dive bar!au posts, all of which are now tagged under “misadventures at nix’s tavern!

#misadventures at nix’s tavern #enjoy this little snippet! I think this au will end up being mostly little screenshots of moments at the bar #because who needs a plot #hbo war #band of brothers #band of brothers au #band of brothers fanfiction #hbo war fanfic #Lewis Nixon #joseph liebgott #maddie writes

[mads-nixon]

Nix When He's Sick Headcannons

Lewis Nixon x Wife!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I'm really getting into headcannons now lol! this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

When you're sick:

In mid-September when the weather in New Jersey does it's cold one day and then warm the next. Needless to say, you get sick pretty easily.

When you can't get out of bed because your head is killing you, he'd close the curtains, go get you your favorite tea, and bring some painkillers for you.

He'd call out of work with no hesitation (perks of being the owner's son) and spend the day taking care of you.

You ask for a cold compress? You got it.

When your fever and congestion start, he'll gently place a hand on your forehead to check your temperature before covering you blanket after blanket until you're warm.

Literally becomes a mother hen: "Are you warm enough?" "Need anything?" "Do you want me to..."

He makes sure you're drinking fluids... "Here, drink this," he mutters after helping you sit upright and holding a bottle of water to your lips. (could you do it yourself? of course, but you knew he wanted to take care of you, so you let him.)

Dotes on you for everything. (he couldn't care less about himself, but when you're sick, he goes into a caretaker mode that always warms your heart, no matter how bad you're feeling.)

When you're struggling to fall asleep because you feel like death, he'll whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you try to sleep. (he also runs his fingers through your hair like the angel he is)

He stays out of work for however long it takes for you to feel better again.

It's all he can do not to kiss you when you're sick:

"Can I have a kiss?" he asks.

"You'll get sick if you kiss me."

"That's okay," Lew shrugs. "I'll survive."

Then two days later...the sniffles start.

When he's sick:

I feel like Nix would act one of two ways: he'd either continue on like everything was fine (even if he's dying, leading you to drag him back to bed) or completely stay in bed wanting to be taken care of...there is no in-between.

Let's say he chose the first option:

The first thing you notice is his snores...Lew doesn't snore, so you know something's up right there. Then the next morning, when he gets up for work, you see his eyes have a sort of gloss over them (not from sleep either. even though he's a freaking deeeeeep sleeper)

You immediately ask him what's wrong, and he just brushes it off (cause he's a tough man, ya know? (affectionate eye roll)) He goes to work that day, and when he comes back, he's a hundred times worse.

He tries to go into his home office and work on some reports for the Nitration Works, but you don't hear the typewriter much over the sound of his coughs, sniffles, and sneezes.

You can't take it anymore and walk into his office to tell him to go to bed, but he's got his head in his hands, leaning on the tissue-covered desk with his elbows. You can see his red nose poking out and it tugs at your heart.

"Sweetheart, I know you're sick. Please come rest."

He sits up and you can see the exhaustion on his face. Going to say something, you cut him off...

"If I have to haul your sorry tail to bed just so you can get some rest, I will." (you knew he was going to come up with some excuse to keep working, so you shut it down before it could even start)

He's reluctant to stop working, but the second he gets comfortable and you've covered him with blankets, he falls straight asleep.

He doesn't wake up until much later, and you've already prepared his favorite soup and everything.

Seeing Lew so low breaks your heart, so you do everything in your power to help him feel better. You do, however, tease him about his bright red nose and kiss it when he starts to childishly pout (it's the cutest thing ever).

You don't want to leave him alone (because there's no telling what he'd do without you watching him), so you call Dick and ask if he can bring you some cough syrup for Lew.

He does, and the second you hold the spoon up to Nix's lips, he groans, his face grimacing.

"Stop whining and take the medicine, Lew." you laugh, helping him sit up.

"It's disgusting."

"I know, hon, but it'll make you feel better."

Loves being doted on, but will NEVER ADMIT IT.

Tag List: @flowers-and-fichte @footprintsinthesxnd

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

#band of brothers #hbo war #lewis nixon #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #lewis nixon headcannons #lew headcannons #nix headcannons #band of brothers headcannons #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon x reader angst #lewis nixon headcannon #dick winters

[mads-weasley]

Epiphany Pt. 3: Haunted

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: hey guys!! i had originally planned for operation market garden to be one chapter, but there were just too many things that i wanted to add, so it will be split up into at least two! 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!

Summary: Things aren't as cut and dry as they seem when Easy jumps into Holland for Operation Market Garden, and (y/n) faces a heartbreaking reality.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: slightly graphic mistreatment of women (eindhoven scene)

SEPTEMBER 13, 1944: ALDBOURNE, ENGLAND

The pub was alive, bustling with half-drunken paratroopers when (y/n) arrived with Skip, Alex, and Don. They were missing their fifth member who they spotted across the bar playing darts with Buck. 

“How much money do ya’ think he’s lost?” Skip asked, snickering as they made their way through the crowd to an empty table. 

(Y/n) grimaced. “As long as he’s not asking me for a loan again, I don’t care. He still owes me $20.”

“Ehh, you’re probably not gonna get that back, (y/n/n), Penkala laughed, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “You should know George well enough by now.”

“Well, the first twenty bucks he gets is mine tonight, boys.”

Finding a booth in the corner, Don, Skip, and (y/n) plopped down while Alex went to get them drinks. They looked around the room and observed some of Bull’s new squad replacements sitting nearby. 

“They don’t look older than twelve,” Skip scoffed, shaking his head.

Don smacked the side of his head, rolling his eyes. “Skip, you don’t look much older than twelve, alright, so ease up.” 

“You’re telling me you don’t even feel a litt-”

“No,” (y/n) interrupted. “I don’t. They’re here the same reason we are.”

Before Skip could argue back, Alex returned with their drinks, and the first thing (y/n) did was gulp hers. To her dismay, Alex had started to ramble about the replacements to Skip, and the pair picked up right where she’d cut him off. With a sigh, she got up and walked over to George, Buck, Toye, and a replacement, who were crowded around the dartboard. They all watched Buck as he lined up a shot.

“Here we go. One shot. Here we go,” he muttered to himself.

When she slid into the space beside George, he smirked with a wink, nodding toward Buck, as if to say, ‘Look at this.’

“Lieutenant,” he began. “You gonna shoot lefty all night?”

Toye and the red-headed replacement’s faces fell, and (y/n) took a sip of her drink to hide her smirk. 

Joe looked between George and Buck in disbelief. “Hey, come on,” He groaned.

“Just curious,” George continued, “‘Cause he’s right-handed.” 

A sly smile grew on Buck’s face as he switched sides and lined up his shot. “George. What would I do without George Luz?”

The group watched as the dart left Buck’s hand and hit the bullseye dead on.

“Boop!”

Collective groans came from Joe and the replacement at George’s antics as he turned to the men. “Goodness, gracious!”

“Two packs, gentlemen,” Compton announced, holding out his hand.

“I know you’ve got them. Pay up.”

Joe looked at (y/n) who was still smirking into her drink. “You gonna let them screw us like that, (y/n)?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t see anything, Joe.”

Rolling his eyes, Toye grumbled as he placed a pack of cigarettes in Buck’s outstretched hand before walking off. The replacement approached (y/n) with a nervous smile, and she had to agree with Skip that he did look twelve, even if he towered over her. 

“Heffron,” he introduced, holding out his hand. “Babe Heffron. Nice to meet you. The guys have told me nothing but great things.”

She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Babe. You’re in Bull’s squad, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Raising her eyebrows, (y/n) snorted. “Ma’am makes me sound like an old woman. Call me (y/n).”

“Yes, ma’a-, I mean, (y/n),” he corrected, his face turning crimson.

Seeing the flash of a familiar silver flask near the door, (y/n) nodded at Babe. “It was nice meeting you, Heffron. You’re in good hands with Bull.”

She found him sitting at a table with Harry Welsh, who looked more tipsy than usual. “(Y/n). Speak of the devil. We wer-”

Nix’s eyes widened, and he kicked Harry discreetly under the table. “You meet the new replacements?” He asked as if Welsh hadn’t spoken.

Raising an eyebrow, she sat in the empty seat beside Lew. “What was that, Lieutenant?”

“Uhh, we were gonna ask you about the replacements,” he replied slowly, glancing at Nix for confirmation.

Though she didn’t understand Harry’s odd behavior, she didn’t push it. “They seem nice. I’ve just met Heffron after George and Buck conned him playing darts.”

Lew took a swig of his flask, throwing an arm on the back of (y/n)’s chair, his fingertips lightly brushing her shoulder. “Bull will take care of them,” he began. “He’s a good sergeant.”

(Y/n) nodded, unsure of her voice at his subtle touch. One touch and she was down for the count. Thinking back to D-Day and the way he held her, heat spread through her. She looked down at the drink in her hand and realized she needed a refill.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get another drink,” she announced, getting up from her seat.

Lew got up, too, grabbing his signature flask. “I’ll come with. Harry, don’t cause too much trouble while we’re gone, alright?”

He rolled his eyes, shooing them away with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah. Go on. I’ll survive.”

The duo made their way for the crowd before leaning against the bar. 

“I thought you only drink VAT-69,” she questioned, motioning to the barkeep for two beers.

Nix faced her, his eyes scanning her face. “My supply is running low, so I’ve gotta cut back until I can get some more.”

The bartender returned with two beers and she gratefully took them, returning to their table with Nix in tow. As soon as they sat down, he placed his arm around her chair once again, and she took a big sip of her drink, knowing she would need it to make it through the night. 

“So, how’s the officer’s life treating you two?” She asked, trying to hide the blush that crept up her neck.

Harry took a deep breath. “Well…”

An hour and a few drinks later, (y/n) was throwing her head back in laughter at something Harry said. Nix just chuckled beside her, knowing she was drunk due to the fact Harry’s comment wasn’t funny at all.

Her head felt as if was stuffed with cotton, and the world was tilted slightly off its axis, but regardless, she was chatting away with the two Lieutenants.

“Ya’know,” she giggled, waving her hands around emphatically. “Kitty’s a lucky gal ‘ta have ya, Har. Outta all-”

Her hand caught a glass and sent it flying, beer spilling across the table. 

“Oh no.”

Lew stood up and gently grasped her elbow, helping her to her feet. “Come on, doll. You’ve had enough.”

“Lewis,” she whined. “I’m not drunk.”

His chuckled. “Really?”

“Uh, ‘yeh.”

“Okay,” he smirked, pointing behind her. “Try to walk to Luz.”

(Y/n) nodded and wobbly took one, two, three steps before tilting to her right, arms flailing. Luckily, Lew was ready and caught her by her waist effortlessly.

“I guess I am drunk,” she murmured into his shoulder. 

Her attempt gained the attention of her squadmates who still sat at the same table from hours earlier. Don and George walked over, faces painted with concern.

“She alright?” Luz asked with a grimace.

“Yeah. She’s just a lightweight,” Nixon smirked, glancing down at the woman in his arms. “I’m gonna take her home.”

Lifting her head off his shoulder, she looked up at him. “Already there,” she whispered to herself.

To her dismay, Don had heard it, and the man’s eyes became saucers as he realized what she meant. Everything clicked in his head.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I’ll get someone to check on her in the morning.”

With a curt nod, Nix led her out of the pub and was hit with a wave of sharp, chilly air that had her huddling closer to him. He had a secure hand around her waist, keeping her upright as they walked down the cobblestone streets of Aldbourne. 

“You alright down there?” He asked, squeezing her hip gently.

(Y/n) basked in his warmth. “I like it when you hold me.”

The man got choked up on his saliva and coughed a few times at her confession.

“Well,” he began slowly, staring down at her, the moonlight illuminating her face. “I like to hold you.”

“Why?”

A smile formed on his lips. “You can ask me when you’re sober, but I doubt you’ll remember any of this, sweetheart.”

She nodded once against his shoulder as they turned onto her street. Aldbourne was a quiet town, especially on a Sunday night. It was easy for one to find themselves getting lost in their thoughts. The soft glow from windows reflecting off the pavement felt like home, even if they were thousands of miles away from theirs.

In different circumstances, Lew could envision him and (y/n) on their way home from a night dancing or movie picture, giggling as young couples do, oblivious to the horrors of the world. But that wasn’t reality. They’d seen the horrors firsthand, and he envied the people who lived and loved in times of peace.

A soft voice broke him from his thoughts. “Thanks.”

Looking up and realizing they’d arrived at her billet, he reluctantly let go of her. He felt the loss of her warmth and reached out to take her hand. “Drink some water, alright? I can’t have you being grumpy tomorrow because you’re hungover.”

She smiled blearily, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for ev’rythin, Lew.”

In a moment of weakness, he sighed and tugged her closer. As Lew’s strong arms wrapped gently around (y/n)’s frame, he felt her heart beating through her chest, as if it were trying to send him a message. The scent of her hair, a delicate mix of her shampoo, and the evening breeze intoxicated his senses. All he could think about was the woman in his arms. Standing there in the warm embrace of a quiet, moonlit night, it was as if the war wasn’t raging around the world. But just as quickly as it had begun, the hug came to an end. They pulled away, eyes meeting for a fleeting moment as if searching for answers in each other’s gaze.

“G’nigh,” she giggled, walking towards her door with unsteady steps.

“Night, sweetheart,”

Once the door had closed and he heard the familiar click of the lock, he backed up onto the street shaking his head with a bashful smile.

“I’m in trouble,” he chuckled, making his way back to the bar.

September 14, 1944: ALDBOURNE, ENGLAND

(Y/n) awoke with a groan, hearing dull raps from the front door beneath her. Each knock was like a drum banging inside her skull as she made her way down the stairs. The family she was staying with was on a weekend vacation, and she was thankful their children wouldn’t see her so hungover.

(Y/n) opened the door, squinting at the bright sunlight. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” a kind voice replied. Lip. 

Her eyes widened. “Sorry, Car, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“It’s alright,” he began softly. “You weren’t at the pub last night, so I wanted to let you know we’re moving out again.”

Already?.

“Okay. Thanks, Lip,” (y/n) nodded, eyes sinking to the floor as she closed the door.

Great.

September 17, 1944: Operation Market Garden

As Easy Company sat in ditches along the road to Eindhoven, an eerie silence hung in the air. Sure, Allied intelligence suspected the Krauts in the country were mostly old men and kids, but the paratroopers were on their toes, ready for whatever would come next.

(Y/n) was sandwiched between George and Skip, who were grumbling back and forth about a failed darts game the night before. 

“Will you two shut up, please?” She laughed softly. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

George smirked, adjusting his helmet. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

A squadron of Allied aircraft roared overhead, and soon after, they approached the town. A window opened, and (y/n) motioned for everyone to get down as she crouched beside a fence. The person pulled out a long orange banner and tied it around the window.

“Okay, hold your fire,” Bull appeared behind them, cigar hanging from his lips.

Staring at the town above her M-1 sight, a deep pang of worry shot through her stomach. Something didn’t feel right.

The paratroopers couldn’t believe their eyes as the people of Eindhoven celebrated their liberation from the German occupation. Bright orange flags flew from every window, and (y/n) found herself smiling at the pure joy that oozed from the town. 

(Y/n) and George had gotten separated from the rest of their squad in the crowd as they dodged kisses from the locals. Well, (y/n) dodged their kisses. After a few girls tried to land a smooch on her lips, she removed her helmet, showing she was a woman. Soon the town's men caught on and were trying to do the same. 

She tried to push through the crowd as quickly as possible staving off any attempts from them. Looking behind her, she groaned at the empty spot where George had been. “George,” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Luz! Come on!”

A few seconds later, he appeared to her right, fresh red lipstick smeared across his lips that were quirked into a wide grin.

“Gosh, (y/n). Can’t a guy have some fun?” He joked, wiping his mouth with his hand.

Turning around, she rolled her eyes and made her way through an opening in the crowd only to be pulled to the side by her arm. “Hey!”

A familiar Philly accent filled her ears. “Come get in this picture, (y/n)!”

Babe pulled her through the crowd, and George followed, kissing as many girls as he could along the way. 

“There they are!” Chuck yelled, throwing his arm around a blonde.

George and Babe stood behind a few kids wearing orange hats and waving flags, all smiling from ear to ear. A wide smile grew on (y/n)’s face as she knelt beside the kids, placing her helmet on the little girl's head beside her. The helmet tipped down, covering the girl’s face except for her crooked, snaggle-toothed smile. (Y/n) quickly fixed it for her, and to her surprise, the little girl threw herself in the woman’s arms. Fighting off tears, she sniffled and hugged the girl back before pointing to the camera.

“Smile, everybody!” (Y/n) announced.

The picture was taken with a click, and (y/n)’s eyes wandered to the left of the cameraman.

She froze, her face falling. Time slowed as she watched the scene unfold before her. A local woman with long, flowing chestnut hair and a confident stride approached Lew. (Y/n) squinted to get a better look, her heart pounding. She watched in disbelief as the stranger reached up and placed a hand on Lew’s cheek, drawing him closer. The world around (y/n) seemed to blur as the stranger’s lips met Lew’s, and they kissed, and he didn't pull away.

Time seemed to stand still for (y/n). She couldn’t comprehend what she was witnessing. Her mind raced with questions. 

Why was Lew kissing her? 

Her hands clenched into fists, and tears welled up in her eyes. (Y/n) felt like a statue, unable to move or speak as the painful scene played out before her. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but not so deep down, she wished it were her instead. Her heart ached, and her stomach churned with anger, jealousy, and sadness.

George tapped her shoulder, his brows furrowed. “(Y/l/n)? You alright?”

Following her line of sight, he found what she was fixated on and softly sighed.

“He’s an idiot, (y/n/n). Come on,” he murmured, hoisting her up by her arm.

She stood and blinked away angry tears that filled her vision. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but not so deep down, she wished it were her.

A small voice below her broke her train of thought. “Dank,” the little girl nodded, holding out (y/n)’s helmet. She forced a smile and took it from the girl. 

George tugged her arm softly, pulling her in the opposite direction of Nix. She blindly followed in a haze, her mind muddied with hurtful thoughts. Townsfolk grabbed at her jacket as she and George made their way to the main town square where 2nd platoon was meeting. 

She was snapped out of her mind by the sound of screams. Her head moved on a swivel trying to find the sound’s source. Spotting a circle of citizens up ahead, she pushed past George quickly, squeezing her way through a few men to see inside the circle.

Before her, half-naked women were on their knees, crying as their hair was roughly shaved, leaving them with blood streaking down their necks and faces. Two Dutch resistance fighters bumped past (y/n) with another petrified woman in their arms. They threw her down and began to rip the clothes off her body. (Y/n)’s eyes narrowed as a burning sensation filled her chest. 

“Hey!” She cried, shoving one of them away from the woman. “That’s enough!”

The man recovered swiftly, but (y/n) didn’t give up. Unable to bend her to his will, he resorted to dirty tactics, shoving her forcefully and causing her to stumble and fall to the hard cobblestone street with a thud. 

“Stomme meid,” he spat.

Stupid girl. 

Her unclasped helmet skidded a few feet away as her head came in contact with the road. The impact knocked the wind out of her, leaving her momentarily gasping for breath. 

For a few seconds, everyone’s eyes were on the (y/n), then all hell let loose. Easy’s men were trying to get to her with enraged shouts but were unable to get through the crowd. With great effort, (y/n) pushed herself up off the ground, her face flushed but her spirit unbroken. She looked the man squarely in the eyes, refusing to show fear despite the pain in her chest. 

The man leered down at her with a smirk as he switched to heavily accentuated English. “Maybe we should teach you a less-”

(Y/n) lost all self-control as her arm reeled back ready to swing, but someone grabbed it tightly and tried to pull her away from the man. Seeing a flash of dark hair, she knew it was him, and her fury only grew. (Y/n) resisted, her heart pounding with adrenaline.

“No, Nix!” She protested, her voice filling with fiery determination. She wriggled free from his grasp for a moment, her eyes still locked onto the resistance fighters. “Let go of me! They can’t do this! We can’t let them do this!”

He stepped in front of (y/n), blocking her view of the confrontation, and looked deeply into her eyes. “(Y/n), I know, all right? I wish we could, but we can’t do anything about it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she tried to push past him only to hear a tone he had never used with her before.

“Stop! That’s an order, (y/l/n),” he gritted, his heart squeezing in his chest at the words.

(Y/n) stared at the Officer in disbelief. 

How dare he not help these poor women?

Tears filled her eyes for the second time that day as she took one more look at the poor woman on the ground. “I’m sorry,” she whispered before shoving her way back through the crowd.

Lew’s eyes followed her until she disappeared into the mob. Sighing, he ran a hand down his face.

What a difference a few days can bring.

One of the men behind him spoke. “She’s a lively one, no?”

“Shut it,” Nix snapped, scooping (y/n)’s discarded helmet off the street.

When he found Dick, Harry, and Buck, he handed the helmet to her platoon leader. “It’s (y/n)’s.”

Buck took it with a nod as the four officers watched the British Armored Division come rumbling down the street. 

It was going to be a long operation.

Tag List: @softguarnere @mrsgeorgeluz @flowers-and-fichte @inglourious-imagines @peggyvan @rebeccapearson @hxad-ovxr-hxart @im-chinese-believe-it-or-not @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @titiglt @stvrkdream @multifandomfanfic

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

#band of brothers #mads' fandoms #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #hbo war #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers series #band of brothers masterlist #band of brothers fic #lewis nixon imagines #lewis nixon imagine #lewis nixon angst #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x reader angst #lewis nixon x reader fluff #lew nixon #nix #nix x reader #lewis nixon fluff #lewis nixon series #101st airborne division #101st airborne #ww2 #world war 2 #easy company #easy company imagines #easy company x reader #babe heffron

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 4: The First Night

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen to Easy Company the night of their Fall?

Words: 3,502

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Have a question/want to be on the taglist? Let me know !!

Author's Note: Hi everyone! Hope y'all are having good days so far~ Also, I want to let you know that I'm open to writing Bonus Content for the series! If there's a particular scene you'd like to be written in more detail, or any specific headcanons, please don't be afraid to let me know! As always thank you a million times over for all the support and I love you all dearly!! 💖

Once at home, the boys all filed out of their makeshift clown cars, Chrys retrieving the black duffel bag she put the men’s things in from the trunk. “I’ll keep these in my room till y’all need them,” Chrys said.

Speirs, Guarnere, and Toye all started to protest, before captain Winters put a stop to it. “Men, we can clearly see that the atmosphere around weapons is different in 2023, I don’t like it either, but we need to follow our hosts on this one,” he explained to his men. The men grumbled but agreed with their CO.

“Alright y’all! Have we got everyone?” Zay asked, her “mom friend” instincts kicking in - she always had an instinct to take care of and protect everyone around her, maybe that is why she went into nursing.

Speirs performed a silent headcount before responding, “Yeah we have everyone, lead the way!” Zay smiled in gratitude at Speirs, turning on her heel before her bouncy saunter could be seen leading the pack. Chrys hung back to talk with Toye, probably about what kind of guns they have - it was a bit of a hobby for her. No one but Winters saw the subtle glare Nixon tossed at Joe after he started chatting with Chrys. Finally, he had something to fire back at Lew the next time the intelligence officer said something about Zay. Everybody, focused on their own conversations, missed Speirs pulling something out of his pocket. Ron inspected the colorful pens he had swiped from the receptionist’s desk, “Sharpie Premium Highlighters” displayed along their sides. Speirs had never seen pens with these colors before, so of course, he needed to have them.

Before they knew it, the group was at the elevator. While this was a larger elevator and could fit all twelve of them, they were once again squished like sardines. While Zay wound up being squished against the back wall with Liebgott, Chrys was squished towards the middle, Nixon on one side, Toye on another. Now, it was Winters’ turn to sit back and enjoy the show. Nixon immediately began to strike up a conversation, causing Toye to return the glare Nixon cast his way earlier. Dick let out a silent chuckle, unaware of the similar situation happening behind him. Joe Liebgott, feeling confident, subtly slung his arm around Zay’s shoulder.

“Sorry, doll, it’s just so crowded in here,” he said in a quiet voice, a smirk evident on his lips. Zay simply snickered and rolled her eyes, letting Joe keep his arm around her. If looks could kill, Luz and Roe would have been accused of friendly fire. They were towards the front of the elevator, turned to the side to help fit everyone in. They were glaring at Liebgott, who simply returned to them a smug smile. When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Zay moved from beside Joe to the front and led the pack on their way, unaware of the situations around her.

As the group filed out of the enclosed space, Roe made sure to wait for Liebgott, “It’S jUsT sO CrOwDeD iN hErE.” He mocked him with a low voice, ensuring Zay didn't hear.

"Hey, I'm the one that got to put my arm around her," Liebgott replied to the medic. The self-satisfied soldier continued walking ahead with the group, while Roe was fuming internally, praying it did not show up on his face. Meanwhile, Zay led the group down the hallway to a door that read 553. The door opened to reveal a modest but comfy apartment. There was a combined kitchen/living area, with the kitchen to the right of the front door. In front of the group was a coffee table with a full size couch against the wall. Flanking the couch was a loveseat and an armchair, framing the coffee table on their respective sides. Directly across from the couch was the entertainment stand, the boys trying to process all the electronics they have never seen before. Across the room was a sliding glass door that led out to the apartment's balcony. To the right of the TV was a small hallway with a door on the left, on the right, and at the end.

"Welcome to casa del Bennett!" Zay cheered as everyone filed into the apartment - there was an eclectic feel to the furniture and decorations. It was easy to see that Zay and Chrys collaborated on the decor, neither of them losing their styles to the other. The decor was a mix of bright, cheerful artwork and trinkets, with posters and models of cars mixed in all around, a perfect blend for the sisters. “Make yourselves at home!” Zay stood beside the kitchen as the boys took a look around, Chrys making her way back to her room, opening the door on the right side of the small hall and disappearing behind it.

“This is a nice place you’ve got!” Luz said, plopping down on the couch in the living area. Toye and Guarnere politely sat down on the loveseat, while the rest of Easy Company gathered to stand in the living area rather awkwardly.

Zay smiled and locked the door, a nervous habit, before walking off down the hallway. “Y’all get comfy, I’m gonna change my clothes really quick.” With her signature bounce, Zay went into the door on the left of the hallway. Easy Company was left to fend for themselves, at least for a few minutes. Roe helped Malarkey sit in the armchair, while the medic opted to sit beside Luz on the couch, close to Malarkey if he needed anything. Bull rested on an arm of the loveseat, while Liebgott took the last seat on the couch, securing Luz in the middle. Winters and Nixon stood off to the side, next to the loveseat, and Speirs rested on an arm of the couch, beside Roe.

“What do you think all that is?” Malarkey asked, motioning to the entertainment center. While someone from 2023 would recognize the twins’ internet router, PS4, Nintendo Switch, and bluetooth speaker as common electronics, the boys had absolutely no idea what they were looking at. As if on cue, the two sisters returned to the group, both having changed their clothes. Chrys was wearing a black sweatshirt with an Alfa Romeo logo the boys did not recognize on the front with a pair of plaid pj pants. Zay opted for an oversized, navy blue t-shirt with the band Queen’s logo on the front, though once again, unrecognized by Easy Company. The shock displayed on the men’s faces came from the fact that Zay seemed not to be wearing anything on her lower half. While Chrys sat on the ground, close to Guarnere and Toye, Zay stood confused at the boys.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, concern thick in her words.

“Um… I think you… forgot something in your room,” Luz mumbled out, bright red and trying his best not to stare at Zay’s legs.

“Hm?” Zay followed Luz’s eyes to the point of confusion. “Oh!” She let out a small giggle, slightly lifter her shirt to reveal her bright yellow pajama shorts. “This is the style for pajama shorts in 2023, helps to keep cool at night,” she explained, opting to sit on the floor - she wound up sitting at the feet of Richard Winters, merely intending to sit beside Chrys. Winters could not help but blush, seeing her so close to him. “How’re y’all feeling?” Zay questioned the group in earnest, looking at the men.

There was a brief pause, as well as a few glances around from the men, before Guarnere spoke up, “Still kinda shocked, I guess… it’s still so weird that this is all happening.”

“To be honest, I’m worried about our other guys,” Liebgott chimed in, his arms crossed and his leg bouncing anxiously. “There’s no way to tell them where we are, and we’re not there if they need us.” Joe said all this while staring at the floor, his jaw clenched. The rest of the men nodded in agreement - the soldiers relied on each other, especially in the winter wasteland of Bastogne. Knowing that they were so far away from the rest of their men hurt their hearts in more ways than they thought possible.

Zay and Chrys listened closely to the group. “I’m sorry y’all have to go through this, I can’t imagine the pain and anxiety you’re feeling right now,” the blue-haired girl said after a beat. “I wish I had answers to your questions, but I can assure y’all, Chrys and I will do everything in our power to help you get back to your men. For now, y’all have had a really long day, and you need to be at your best to-”

Zay was cut off by what sounded like the mating call of the humpback whale. All heads turned to the source of the sound - Nixon’s stomach. Lewis let out a small laugh before speaking, “I sure hope you still eat dinner in 2023.”

“Nope, eating as a concept stopped in the 1990s,” Chrys replied, her face and tone deadpan. There was a beat of silence, the boys unsure whether or not the woman was joking, before Chrys let out a snicker. Zay and Chrys began to descend into laughter, followed by the rest of the boys. The group continued to discuss dinner, Zay explaining the concept of Door Dash to the soldiers. Swears, confusion, and laughter abounded throughout the technology education.

“So we can really get anything we want? And they’ll just deliver it?” Malarkey asked, wonder in his eyes. Zay smiled and nodded her head. Malarkey looked at the boys before exclaiming, “We could get actual pasta!”

“Are you kidding? We could get warm juicy American burgers!” Luz retorted.

“Hey what about Chinese food? That shit’s delicious,” Toye argued back. The group descended into bickering, sounding like child siblings in their tones.

“Men!” Winters scolded, causing everyone to fall silent and turn their attention to their captain. Dick looked down at Zay, “We’ll take whatever you recommend.” Dick had a polite smile on his face, imitating Luz as he tried everything not to look at Zay’s bare legs. The girl looked back up into Dick’s green eyes, a blush rising on her cheeks, as well as a thankful smile.

“How about some fast food?” Chrys offered, “McDonald’s usually has something everyone likes.”

“Sounds perfect!” Zay replied before going to Door Dash on her phone. After what felt like forever while the twins explained the options for food to the boys and take their orders, Zay pressed the “Complete Purchase” button. “Alright! The food will be here in a little bit. In the meantime, would y’all like anything to drink? We have water and soda, but also beer, wine, and some other stuff.” Zay explained with a mischievous grin - she saw how the men loved to drink on the show, save for Winters, and was excited to relax and have fun with them. A chorus of intrigued “ooh”s and whoops came from the men of Easy Company as Zay stood up to go to the kitchen. After getting everyone’s drink orders, Zay headed to the kitchen, not noticing Dick following her.

“Thought you might want some help carrying everything,” he said more bashfully than intended when Zay noticed him. Zay returned his smile as they reached the tile of the kitchen area.

“That’s really sweet of you, Captain Winters,” she responded, blushing as she looked up at the man in front of her. Her mind could not help but wonder, what would he do if he knew how big of a crush she had on him?

Dick laughed quietly and smiled at the girl, his blush matching hers. “Please, call me Dick.” Zay’s smile widened as she shifted her gaze to her feet, praying futily that he did not notice her blush growing. “Doc was right earlier, you know, it is really kind of you to take us into your home like this,” Dick mused, grateful for the girl in front of him. Her eyes immediately returned to meet his gaze with a smile.

“Oh it’s nothing, really! Chrys and I have people over all the time, so it’s no trouble, I promise.” Zay went to the fridge as she spoke, starting to take out the bottles that were requested - a coke for Dick, red wine for Zay, Speirs, and Roe, and beers for the rest of the group. Once Zay had organized the eight bottles and three glasses, she bent down to grab her serving tray from the cupboard. Dick wanted to avert his eyes, he wanted to be polite, be a gentleman, but alas, he was entranced. The captain was just barely able to turn his head away before Zay returned to the drinks, acrylic serving tray in hand. Once Zay put everything on the tray, Winters was quick to pick it up, Zay shooting him a Look. “Thank you,” Zay said reluctantly, trying and failing to hide her smile. Dick simply nodded before following her out of the kitchen.

The night continued to devolve into drunken, chaotic fun, with laughter and Chicken McNuggets abounding. Soon everyone was burping and hiccuping with inebriation, of course save for Winters. “You guys wanna play truth or dare?” Chrys asked with a smirk as Zay clumsily emptied the group’s third bottle of wine into her glass, splashing a couple drops onto the carpet.

“Yeah! Let’s use the bottle to pick!” Guarnere said, gently plucking the bottle from Zay’s hand. The twelve made a circle on the floor, pushing the coffee table flush with the sofa. Zay wound up sitting between Winters and Roe, while Chrys was between Nixon and Bull. “Who wants to go first?” Guarnere asked, placing the bottle on its side in the center of the circle.

“I will!” Chrys volunteered, spinning the bottle. As Chrys leaned forward, shifting her weight to her knees, Nixon could not help but be floored by the dark-haired woman in front of him - she seemed so genuine, so down to earth, he needed her in his life. The bottle spun and spun before landing on, of course, Captain Nixon. A chorus of “ooh”s and chuckles erupted from the group as Chrys asked, “Captain, truth or dare?”

Nixon smirked and looked at the girl, heavily relying on his liquid courage. “Dare, doll,” he replied. Chrys, hiding her blush, smiled and walked to the kitchen, returning with a fresh bottle of beer.

“I dare you,” she paused as she used the bottle opener, “to drink this entire beer in 10 seconds.” She held the beer out to him, intrigued to see if he could do it.

“Done and done,” he replied casually, immediately starting to down the drink. It may not have been Vat 69, but Nixon still drank the beer like it was the best thing he ever tasted. Before Chrys reached five, Nixon handed her the empty bottle, covering his mouth as he felt the carbonation expel itself. The group laughed at Nixon’s belch but cheered as he spun the bottle in front of him. The bottle slowly came to a stop, pointing itself at Wild Bill Guarnere. “Alright Gonorrhea, truth or dare?”

Bill laughed as he finished off his fourth beer. “Truth, Cap’n.” he said assertively, leaning into the circle. Nixon thought for a minute before asking his question.

“Tell us about the worst kiss you’ve ever had.” the captain asked the staff sergeant. Guarnere thought for a minute before his facial muscles cringed with disgust.

“Suzie Watson at my Senior Prom, we were slow dancing and next thing I knew her tongue was licking my lips,” Bill recalled. The group responded with sounds of ick as Guarnere flicked the bottle. The game continued to bring wild revelations and compromising positions to all in the room. At one point, Luz had spun the bottle, and it landed on captain Dick Winters. “Captain Quaker, sir,” Luz addressed Winters, earning laughs all around him, including from the captain himself, “truth or dare?”

Dick chuckled and shook his head. He debated whether or not to participate when the game began, but when Zay plopped herself next to his feet and looked up at him with the sweetest doe eyes he had ever seen, how could he not? The captain weighed his options, considering which answer is more of a risk. “Truth,” he answered, looking over at George.

“You got a girl waiting for you back home? And if you don’t, are you looking for someone?” Dick could see Zay's head perk up out of the corner of his eye; he could tell her head turned towards him, but he was nervous to meet her gaze.

“Can’t say I have someone waiting at home, but I would like to have a family, someday,” Winters replied quietly, his bashfulness and beet red cheeks warming Zay’s heart. In a moment of wine-fueled impulse, she laid her head on Dick’s shoulder as he spun the bottle. Surprised, Winters looked over at the girl, a content smile on her face as she rested on him. Now it was Winters’ turn to feel his heart warming. The game continued on until about midnight, when a few soldiers allowed themselves to yawn.

“Alright y’all, looks like it’s time to get ready for bed. For where y’all are sleeping, once we put up the air mattress, we can sleep four of you out here, then three in my room and three in Chrys’ room,” Zay explained. She wobbly tried to stand up, resembling a baby giraffe learning how to walk, before losing her balance and falling into Roe’s lap with a squeal. Eugene caught her in one smooth motion, looking at Zay with concern and amusement. “My bad,” the girl said between giggles. No one saw Liebgott and Luz roll their eyes at the scene, save for Winters. Roe helped the girl stand back up while they all discussed sleeping arrangements.

“I can sleep out here,” Speirs spoke up.

“I’ll take the couch,” Bull added.

“I can room with Zay, if you don’t mind,” Eugene looked up at the girl, who smiled and nodded her head.

“Hey! I wanna room with her!” Luz cried out, pushing Roe’s shoulder childishly.

Liebgott somehow got involved in the scrimmage as well, while Zay simply smiled down at the still-sitting Winters. “Would you like to stay in my room?” While she has not revealed the fact they would share a bed yet, Zay certainly preferred the idea of sharing a bed with a gentleman like Winters. Dick smiled and nodded, agreeing to her offer. Zay returned his smile before raising her voice to get the men’s attention. “Y’all! Dick already claimed a spot, so the other two spots go to Roe and Luz.”

Liebgott groaned and rolled his eyes, walking over to the loveseat - his bed for the foreseeable future. While all of the bickering was occurring, Chrys agreed to Nixon, Toye, and Guarnere bunking in her room. “Do you guys want pajamas? Our brother comes to visit us a lot, and he usually leaves his clothes here… his memory isn’t the best,” Chrys told the group, quiet laughter making its way across everyone’s lips. Chrys smiled and made her way back to her room, the rest of the men standing from the floor.

“I’ll go grab the air mattress,” Zay said over her shoulder, bouncing away to her room.

Ron stayed quiet until the twins left. “Sir? What’s the plan for tomorrow?” he asked Winters, everyone suddenly remembering the problems at hand.

Dick thought for a moment before responding, “We’ll go back to where we first arrived and see if we can find anything and go from there. If we don’t get any information, we’ll ask Zay and Chrys for input… maybe even watching the program we’re on could help.” Speirs nodded in understanding as Chrys came back into the room with a laundry basket of t-shirts, pj pants, jeans, and other bits of clothes for the men to use. Once Zay returned with the air mattress, she and Chrys set up their respective pull-out couches in their rooms while the boys changed, the clothes somehow being a good fit for everyone, even Bull.

Once the boys were all decent, Chrys and Zay set up the air mattress in the living room, supplying the four sleeping in said room with a plethora of pillows and blankets. Soon, the men were settled in their respective bunks - Bull on the couch, Liebgott on the loveseat, Malarkey and Speirs on the air mattress, Guarnere and Toye on Chrys’ pull-out couch, Roe and Luz on Zay’s pull-out couch, and finally, Captain Winters and Captain Nixon were, in fact, about to share their beds with Zay and Chrys, respectively. Since there was nowhere else for the boys to sleep, the four of them felt their own versions of excitement, nerves, and every other emotion under the sun.

~~~~~

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @xxluckystrike

Thank you again for reading!! Be on the lookout for Chapter 5 coming next week!! 🥰✨

#band of brothers #hbo #hbo war #easy company #should've been born later nix #band of brothers fanfic #easy company x oc #dick winters #richard winters #george luz #lewis nixon #eugene roe #gene roe #doc roe #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #joe toye #joseph toye #william guarnere #bill guarnere #wild bill #ol' gonorrhea #donald malarkey #don malarkey #denver randleman #bull randleman #ronald speirs #ron speirs #my writing #emily shut up

[bandagesandloveletters]

Lilla Thornton (Masters of The Air OFC)

Note: A little introduction to my newest original female character for the Masters of The Air universe. Look out for all her adventures in the weeks to come. Word Count: 895 words.

Glass plasma bottles clicked against each other as they moved inside the chipped wooden crate marked "Medical Supplies". Pyramids of morphine syrettes threatened to spill with every second step heavier than the opposite. In a different setting, desperate hands would be grabbing at the morphine, like kids to a bowl of candy. It was a highly sought-after substance on the frontlines by medics, but in the ghostly quiet hallways of the on-base infirmary, no one dared to steal from what supplies graced the stockroom. 

In the middle of the infirmary's hustle and bustle lay a heavy oak desk, out of place and odd for its surroundings but very fitting for the occupier who worked upon it, hour after hour.

Thud! Rattle! Clunk! The wooden crate came to rest upon the paper-laden desk as dainty hands rifled through its contents, determined to find the item that she so urgently needed.

"Ah-ha!" the gentle rasp with a Texan accent piped up as she grasped what she was looking for in her left hand. "There you are, you little rascal."

"Still talking to the medical supplies, I see."

"You know me, Nora. If a seasick-riddled boat journey across the pond can't change my ways, it will never happen," Second Lieutenant Thornton chirped as she turned to stand before the friendly face.

Lilla Thornton was a petite girl from Fredericksburg, Texas. Although she was small in stature, she had a big personality. As head nurse, the tiny Texan often had to drum up morale as her fellow medics worked tirelessly on wounded men evacuated from the battle-damaged aircraft returning from missions into occupied Europe. It was almost like working on a production line; as soon as a patient was stable, they'd be moved to a more suitable bed within the infirmary, away from all the chaos.

A no-nonsense kind of girl, Lilla was known for throwing herself into her work, placing it on top of her list before pleasure. Her time at Thorpe Abbotts was a perfect example of this practice. As her nurses clung to the men of the 100th every Friday at the Half Moon Inn, the young Lieutenant would spend her night taking stock of supplies and rolling bandages. Even back home, she'd rather spend her weekends studying or helping her father run the family ranch than travel the hour into Austin to go drinking and galavanting with her friends.

Growing up, she had to learn and take responsibility more quickly than most girls. At the age of seven, her dear mother Tabitha passed suddenly of an unknown illness that doctors were trying to grasp a better knowledge and understanding. Lilla was the eldest of three siblings, meaning any extra time she had after her classes were finished was spent working to bring in extra money to aid the family finances.

Her father, a cripple who couldn't work, always encouraged the brunette to follow her heart, and on the 18th of August 1941, Lilla Thornton joined the Army Nurse Corps. With a passion for helping those in need and a hard-working ethic, Army life came as easy as learning to crawl as an infant.

Training started at Brooke General Hospital, San Antonio, Texas, before she was assigned to the Eighth Air Force as a breakaway unit in September of 1942. A single gold bar sat proudly upon the collar of her dress uniform and the new role of head nurse upon her shoulders.

At Kearney Army Airfield, Nebraska, Lilla made friends with a fellow nurse from Louisiana. Like Lilla, Nora was a serious person putting just as much dedication into her role as a nurse as the Texan girl did. Nora and Lilla forged a friendship that would stand the test of time.

Thrusting the two bottles of saline towards the medic, followed by some syrettes of morphine, Lilla raised an eyebrow in question at the female before her.

"This should be more than enough for now. You don't happen to have any chocolate in your magic box, Lieutenant Thornton?" Nora’s Southern drawl emphasized certain words as she asked the smaller female. 

Holding up a finger, Lilla turned and began to search through a heavy oak drawer connected to her desk before producing a foil-covered article. Chocolate had become a rare commodity, especially with all the rationing the Americans faced while living in England, and what they could get a hold of tasted far from what they were used to back home. 

"This is my last ration for this month. It better be for a good reason you’re looking for some. You owe me one, Nora."

"You got my word, Li. If you have the time, can you check on Lieutenant Payne? I think he's coming down with pneumonia."

Looking up from her clipboard at the mention of one of the navigators, Lilla nodded. It was apparent there was some kind of bug going around the base. She’d already treated a few men with similar symptoms.

"I don't have long left until I've finished my shift here, but I'll be round as soon as possible. Just make sure he's kept warm until I get there."

Returning her attention to the crate of supplies, Lilla sat down behind the desk to begin the final stock check of her shift.

#hbo war #masters of the air #rosie rosenthal #original character #original female character #lilla thornton #lilla thornton x rosie rosenthal #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air original female character #nix writes #OFC #ladies of hbo war #1940s character #women's army nurse corps