emilee1421

[emilee1421]

reblog if you’re a writer who feels guilt whenever they’re not writing and being productive, so I know I’m not the only one lol

[emilee1421]

Reblog if you write fic and people can inbox you random-ass questions about your stories, itemized number lists be damned.

[emilee1421]

Nixon accompanies Winters on a much needed 48 hour pass to Paris…

The concierge flipped nervously through the ledger, glancing up every so often at the two uniformed men at the front desk.

Nix shifted his bag on his shoulder, one dark eyebrow quirked impatiently. He watched Winters as he leaned against the polished wood of the front desk. There were smudges under his eyes, dark and bruise-like, and a slight curve had settled in his shoulders. The past few weeks had been hard for all the men, but they had been especially hard for Winters. He hated handing Easy over to another C.O. and it showed in the creases that now permanently resided between his brows.

“It seems I only have one room available tonight.” The concierge finally said.

“We’ll take it.” Nix cut him off, anxious to get them both out of the crowded lobby before Winters could change his mind about being here. Winters was less than thrilled about the 48 hour pass but the brass had decided a break was necessary for their dedicated Captain. Nix had finally talked him into it and decided to come along to make sure Winters did more than pace and brood for two days.

The concierge pulled the key from a rack behind him. “Third floor, Room 316.”

The elevator doors slid open and Winters followed Nix down the hall until they finally reached the door marked with the gold numbers ‘316’. He opened the heavy door and flipped on the lights, the golden glow of the lamp illuminated the well appointed room and the large bed that took the center of the room.

The only bed.

“I can go back downstairs and see if -”

“We’ll make it work.” Winters sighed tiredly, shouldering past Nix. He dropped his bag onto the luggage rack in the corner of the room then headed to the bathroom. “I’m going to take advantage of some hot water.” he called over his shoulder before pushing the door closed behind him.

Nix poured himself a few fingers of scotch from the decanter on the sideboard before dropping himself down onto the bed, relaxing into the plush duvet and sinking into what must have been the softest mattress he’d ever felt. Though he supposed anything would feel luxurious after countless nights spent in foxholes and the occasional stiff cot. He sipped his scotch, savoring burn as the sound of running water in the bathroom lulled him to sleep.

The rocking motion of the bed jolted him awake. Winters on the other side, dressed in his uniform pants and undershirt, a white towel draped over his shoulders absorbing the drips from his hair. He grabbed several pillows from the bed, piling them onto an arm of the chaise by the window.

“What are you doing?” Nix asked, sitting up and setting his glass aside.

“You can have the bed.” Winters said over his shoulder, pulling a spare blanket from the linen closet and tossing it onto the chaise.

“Dick. Dick c’mon” he caught Winters by his elbow, turning him around to face him.

“You’re here to relax and get some rest” Nix emphasized, leading Winters over to the bed and pushing him down gently by the shoulders. “And that's exactly what you’re gonna do,” he added.

Winters huffed in exasperation, scrubbing a hand over his face before resting his forehead in his palms.

Nix gathered the pillows from the chaise and tossed them onto the bed. Winters, resigned to his fate, settled under the covers and turned away from Nix before flicking off the lamp.

He was pulled from sleep once again by the bed shifting beneath him. He heard Winters roll over, tugging at the sheets and fluffing his pillows. Not even five minutes later the mattress shook again as he rolled to the other side.

“Would you cut it out?!” Nix huffed, flipping over to face winters who was in the process of fluffing his pillow yet again.

Winters scrubbed his hands over his face, sitting up against the headboard “can't sleep” he groaned.

“Yea, that makes two of us now”, nix grumbled back.

“You’re the one who insisted I sleep here.”

The back of Winters’ head thudded against the headboard in frustration and the crease between his brow deepened even as his eyes remained closed. In the moonlight that filtered in through the curtains, Nix could still make out the tense lines around his mouth and the hollows under his eyes. He looked positively exhausted. Smaller somehow. Like the stress of the past few months had eroded his very being. It made Nix’s chest clench with an aching pain behind his ribs.

Nix sat up too, resting against the headboard bedside Winters. The warm brush of their thighs searing him to his core. He’d spent countless nights in close quarters with Winters, bombed out farmhouses and foxholes, sharing body heat under the guise of necessity. But this felt entirely different. Intimate in a way that took his breath out of his lungs and stoked the ember of desire within him.

With two fingers, he tipped Winters’ chin toward him and met that perfect crystalline blue gaze. He moved cautiously slow, always feeling out that ever shifting boundaries between them.

“Let me help you.” He whispered as his thumb grazed the freshly shaved skin of Winters’ jaw. The soft little exhale the touch elicited sent a frisson of heat down Nix’s spine.

He turned in bed toward the other man, cupping Winters’ face in both his hands. And with as much restraint as he could manage, kissed him gently.

Winters tensed at the first brush of his lips but before Nix could pull away, he went slack in his hold. Winters leaned into the kiss, parting his lips, granting permission as Nix’s hands drifted down to his shoulders. Winter’s body uncoiled slowly, relaxing and melting into him as he sucked at his bottom lip and tugged at the hem of his undershirt.

He lifted his arms for Nix to pull the shirt over his head. The smooth pale pains of his chest and arms were etched marble in the silver light and the auburn hair formed a dark path between his pectoral muscles, down his toned abdomen and below where the sheets pooled at his waist.

Nix pressed gentle, nipping kisses to the exposed curve of Winters’ throat as his hand slid down Winters’ chest and abdomen; the taught muscles dancing under his fingers. He paused when he reached the waistband of his boxers, holding his own breath as he cupped the unmistakable bulge that was forming between Winters’ legs.

He squeezed the hardening length, palming the growing outline through the thin material and watching Winters’ face for any sign of discomfort; thanking every known deity when he saw only the tortured throes of desire.

“Is this ok?” Nix asked, voice strained.

Winters nodded, eyes shut tight as he tried to bite back another moan.

Nix pulled his boxer shorts down in one smooth tug, leaving Winters fully bare, all alabaster skin and hewn muscle against the soft sheets. His now fully erect member laid thick and proud against his stomach, the tip blushing a deep scarlet and already leaking pearls of precum. Nix trailed a finger down the prominent vein on the underside, completely enraptured as he watched Winters’ abs ripple at the light, teasing touch.

He glanced back up to Winters’ face. His jaw was tight and he watched Nix back with unmatched intensity; the same way he watched the line late at night. But the shallow, panting breaths and the unmistakable glossiness in those blue eyes left no question in Nix’s mind.

He gripped Winters with a firm, sure hand and gave a few languid strokes, swiping a thumb over the weeping head and working the wetness down his shaft.

Nix continued to watch his face as he worked him toward the edge. He was beautifully flushed; eyes shut tight and mouth slightly open in a silent moan of pleasure. He was perfect.

”That’s it, Dick, let go for me. I’ve got you.” Nix purred in his ear, tightening his grip and working him faster.

Winters nodded, releasing a shuddered breath. He was always the one in control, the one who the men looked to for direction; he held their lives in his hands every day. but in this moment he was all too willing to cede control completely to Nix. It wasn’t weakness or wanton carelessness, but rather a show of absolute trust.

Winters’ breath came in ragged pants as he leaned into Nix’s touch, relaxing his thighs wider to give Nix a better angle and submitting completely to the pleasure.

The sight alone had Nix on the edge himself, his own cock was stiff and throbbing but he focused all his attention on Winters. This was all about him, his pleasure, and his finally letting go of the tension that had been building between them.

He sped up his strokes, twisting his palm over the tip each time and watching closely as Winters’ abs jumped and his thighs trembled as he teetered on the edge. He groaned and a blissed out sob broke from his chest, body shaking violently as he coated Nix’s hand and his own abs with his release.

Winters fell back against the pillows, panting and boneless in the afterglow of bliss.

Nix reached over the side of the bed, grabbing his undershirt from the floor. He gently cleaned the pearly streaks from Winters’ skin.

Winters’ head lolled on his pillow, looking up at Nix with glossy eyes, a deeply satisfied grin spreading over his face as he traced his finger tips down Nix’s chest.

A similar grin pulled at Nix’s lips as he felt the fingers slide down to the band of his boxers.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

[emilee1421]

also, this original synopsis… what the heck. i wanna watch it.

[emilee1421]

Please reblog this if fanfiction has been beneficial to your mental health.

[emilee1421]

band of brothers: types of kisses hc

(a/n: sorry this is so long… i tried to include a lot of easy company... but if your fav isn't here, please just send an ask and i'll add them!)

send an ask if you would like to be on my taglist! :) (taglist: @ronsparky)

[dick winters]

cautious kisses

dick does not like pda only because he's extremely private and wants your relationship to be for the two of you only... no matter how nosy nix is

but there still are occasional kisses to your cheek when he’s more relaxed in front of other officers

he's tender and careful too; dick is always cupping your face, a thumb brushing across your cheek or brushing hair away from your face

dick is always very gentle and a little unsure at times

especially at the beginning of your relationship, he feels incredibly inexperienced, or at the very least, out of practice

he’s very okay with you taking the lead when kissing because he doesn't want to do anything wrong

dick is tentative and private but very into it... it's a good thing he has an insane amount self discipline because otherwise he would be kissing you 24/7

[lewis nixon]

speaking of self discipline… lew does have it but he also chooses to ignore it most of the time, if he wants to kiss you then he's going to kiss you

so many morning kisses

honestly just anytime in bed because lew plays fast and loose with 'morning' and sleep cycles

absolutely never wants to get up, has to be coaxed with a lot of kisses and cuddling, it is a huge ordeal

he always kisses with some degree of mess, a little uncontrolled, perhaps a little desperate

a lot of sudden kisses too like you think you're safe and then boom he’s all of the sudden in the room, pulling you towards him

will take advantage of any opportunity no matter how small... does he have any shame? (no, not really)

lew does shockingly get a little shy sometimes about pda though

“i don’t want to rub it in their faces…" he'll insist, "y'know... what they don’t have”

sureeee... the blush on his cheeks says otherwise though

[carwood lipton]

carwood's speciality is definitely comforting kisses

lip is always paying attention to you and what you need and how you feel and that extends to physical affection

always wants you to feel okay, better than okay, great

and if a kiss can make you feel better then he’s more than willing to oblige

affection between the two of you is every casual and common, always kissing, holding hands, some sort of physical touch

constantly smiling in between kisses

he’s just that happy and loves you so much

but the comforting kisses & affection goes both ways

kissing the stress and worry away from his face and tracing his scar with your thumb before kissing it gently, your noses almost touching after you pull away to catch your breath, the two of you wearing twin smiles

and whenever you say goodbye or reunite, you both try not to make a scene, but it's always a little bit of a scene tbh... like having to be without carwood's kisses for a week is basically criminal

all the other men think it's extremely cute though, don't worry

[ron speirs]

stolen kisses (haha)

even his kisses are stolen!

he will always come out of nowhere and will always find time for a smooch

every time you think surely ron isn't in this area, he's supposed to be somewhere else, he's not in this building... you are proven wrong

is incredibly good at carving out time to see you... and finding private places for the two of you

like he's definitely scoped a few places out before he goes to find you

one time you were in his office kissing and someone knocked on the door and he huffs and pouts because he has to break away from you, even if it's only for a second- he's not happy about it

ron barks out, “not now," before returning to you will a warm, soft smile

heavy on kisses instead of words

ron is very physical...whenever you finally pull away from a kiss... you can always see things/emotions in his eyes that you know he's not ready to say yet and finds difficult to articulate

[don malarkey]

soooo many shy kisses

okay yes, don is kind of unhinged (stealing a motorcycle, drinking methanol, etc) but not with relationships... like flirting?? kissing??

he's still incredibly enthusiastic about your relationship... very much so

but he gets really shy around you, especially with kissing

turns beet red so easily, like you love kissing him and pulling away to see him blushing all the way up to the tips of his ears <3

it's just so fun and he's having a great time... and don cannot hide his emotions or what he’s thinking so whatever he's thinking always comes out when you're kissing

"god, you're beautiful. you should bring this dress to paris when we go next weekend. oh- y'know what, skip still owes me that $40 i lent him. i really need that for next week's pass so-"

"don," you interrupt gently, brushing a hand across his jaw

he'll blush and smile sheepishly, "right, i'm shutting up, back to kissing..."

he's shy yet so excited and wants to do everything right, willing to learn and wants to learn, and just wants his inner emotions and love for you translate with physical affection

and it definitely does! don is extremely endearing and you love him for it

[joe toye]

joe's kisses are always very intense

his eye contact, his touch, his raspy voice… everything is intense in the best way possible

his hands already feel like fire, so warm against your own skin

he loves just laying next to you in bed, just observing you and taking it all in

his passion definitely goes along with the intensity

he's also extremely private about affection with you, just because it means so much to him

tends to get vulnerable and emotional very easily

and really likes pillow talk and just listening to your voice, your stories, and your perspective

he likes your reassurance too, your love, he's never felt anything like this before

so whenever he can manage to have free time alone with you, he's always savoring it

joe could kiss you for hours, he truly loves taking it all in, going slow, and savoring the time you have together

[george luz]

late night kisses are a staple for the two of you

george gets so excited being with you he doesn't want to sleep

the biggest sleepover vibes

like you both very seriously decide to go to bed but then george says something funny or does his dike impression and then you both start laughing and talking again

and kissing again, sometimes the impressions are so good you have to reward him

you guys have a lot of late nights because of this

also do kisses for warmth and sharing body heat count?

huddling in a foxhole together, in the thick of it together, like yes they don't have much food, supplies, or ammo but george is not going to let them take kisses away from him too

oh my god, laughing in between kisses

sometimes he really can’t take himself that seriously

george is like don and gets very excited

he just feels so lucky to have you and has to kiss you accordingly

kissing you and just being with you can make him a little emotional… a happy little high

cigarettes have nothing on you and your kisses!

[babe heffron]

babe is kind of like a baby deer, he's a little clumsy and sometimes unsure but he's definitely got the spirit

he is confident but he does tend to second guess himself when it comes to you, he just doesn't want to mess anything up.

like what if he uses too much tongue or he headbutts you on accident... he's just overthinking it

and sometimes you just have to grab his arm and pull him toward you and kiss him yourself

when you're alone, babe lovesss laying on your chest letting you run your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead... but don't tell anyone

jk he doesn't care if anyone knows (and they absolutely do know)

and the guys can't even tease him that hard about it, that's much everyone loves babe... they're just happy for him tbh

babe definitely gets a little needy sometimes like where’s his daily kiss allotment :(

and he can get clingy... will 100% wrap his arms around, you pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder just because he hasn't seen you that much today

[eugene roe]

tired kisses are a doc roe staple

poor eugene, he's exhausted and jaded... a lot of the time… and the rest of the company gives the two of you space as often as they can because they know how much your presence helps him

tired kisses as in he is putting in effort but his lips don't move as fast or as needy

he's more languid and calm, and it's very enticing

forehead kisses too omg

he lovesss when you kiss his forehead; pull him against your body, your chest, your arms and he feels safe and secure

he likes kissing the top of your head too, his nose in the crown of your hair while murmuring something in french

you catch various words in french that after spending so much time with gene you can understand now

like mon ange, mon amour, ma moitié (my better half? sobbing)

your presence is so grounding for him and makes him feel more normal, like he's not constantly surrounded by death and pain

you make him feel like he doesn't have to be constantly on edge, like he can take his helmet off and not be on alert, like he hasn't totally lost himself in his job... your kisses are so grounding for him

[buck compton]

a lot of reassuring kisses

like sometimes he just has to kiss the worry off of your face

and vice versa, towards the end of the war it's not even just kisses but your presence and touch alone become extremely reassuring for him

but also... buck can be so cocky sometimes, he loves showing you off

you secretly (not so secretly) love it... like sorry it's hot

like once when the two of you were at a pub in england... he's gambling, he's drinking, he's smoking, and ofc he's kissing you!

what else is he supposed to do when he wins at darts or cards... come on

the guys hype him up and just hide their jealousy because you and buck very often seem like relationship goals

he's always touching you, like usually has a firm grip around your waist

always laughing together, everything you do together automatically seems so intimate

like in a room with the other guys... they do feel like they're intruding

just because you and buck are in the corner laughing and talking together, the love and intimacy feels like it takes over the entire room

it's just so passionate and obvious he's head over heels and that definitely comes across in his kisses

[joe liebgott]

joe's kisses strike me as tender but demanding and needy at the same time

he's a taker.... but also a giver so it evens out

some very, very eager kisses

like pushing you up against a wall, hand sliding up your thigh and mouth working down your neck...

joe is a great multitasker!

accidentally bites your lip once, it wasn't that hard or anything but he went bright red and was apologizing profusely, but also was like, "did you like it though..."

(you did but...)

bottom line is joe's just a tiny bit feral around you at all times honestly

you never know when he’s going to pull you into his lap and kiss you and you both loveeee when you sit on his lap

the men are very used to it by now

he also likes living on the edge, like who cares if the patrol's supposed to be back any minute now and could walk in at any time?

messy kisses like his mouth is just everywhere basically, he wastes absolutely no time

he is so noisy: whines, groans, moans, laughs, you get everything with joe

also loves when you tug and pull on his hair while kissing, he specifically requests it

but joe can also get incredibly soft and sweet and tender but that's strictly for your eyes only... he has a reputation to uphold ofc

he totally blows you kisses whenever one of you leaves the room... it starts ironically but now he really does enjoy doing it

[david webster]

oh david is just so romantic

like definitely over the top romantic... it's so serious to him

he's read enough (a lot) romance novels and craves that book and movie worthy relationship and love

his life IS a victorian romance novel and he will act accordingly

everyone else thinks it's incredibly cheesy but you think it’s really cute

it means so much passion whenever he's talking about you, talking to you, kissing you, etc

he's always trying to think of the right words to say and you’re like “david, just kiss me please”

ofc he obliges and he is very good at it

his touch is just always so tender, you can feel the passion and love through his kisses

he's a little hesitant sometimes, starts off slow but it's extremely easy to get him worked up and make him lose some of that self control that he works so hard to maintain and portray

[floyd talbert]

confident kisses

yeah... yeah, what more is there to say

floyd just has a way (from a lot of practice) with his mouth

he's also very attentive and is always surveying how you're reacting and feeling, always wants to make you feel good and lovesss watching your reactions

he loves when you make noises of surprise or pleasure, he always ends up grinning into your kiss, he just thinks it's sooo cute

however i do think the more serious your relationship gets and the more feelings that are attached, the more likely he gets nervous... just a little bit

but that's more with relationship things

the kissing he has down pat for sure

takes the lead, cups your cheek, always knows what to do with his hands and the perfect the angle to tilt his head

will sometimes stop super close to your lips and just grin, teasing kisses

floyd loves having all of your attention to himself, when you loop your arms around his neck, when your lips are on his face, when you're talking quietly only for him to hear, when you're the only one that actually calls him floyd, ugh he just melts

[shifty powers]

shifty is the absolute king of gentle kisses

like so so shy

especially at the beginning of your relationship, you definitely have to kiss him first and initiate everything

he's so scared of reading the moment wrong and messing everything up

which you always reassure him that he won't

he has literally the entire company hyping him up, they've been waiting for y'all to get together for basically years now

but once he's more comfortable, he's always wrapping his arms around you, smiling, and kissing you freely

he struggles to articulate all love and emotions he's feeling but you still love listening to him talk about it

he just blurts out "i love you so much" one day after kissing, when you're laying in bed in austria

and he immediately looks terrified, not that he regrets what he said because he most certainly means it, but he doesn't know what you're going to say

but it's only a few seconds before you grin and throw your arms around him, "i love you too," you mutter before kissing him, a little more intense, and with a little more fervor than your usual kisses

[bill guarnere]

his nick name of wild bill definitely applies to his kissing style

absolutely wild

sometimes borderline unhinged

especially if he's been drinking or partying

but also... if it's the two of you alone, having a mellow morning or night, bill does get soft

the other guys aren't even surprised by that, they know he has a soft and gentle side to him, they can see it whenever you're with him

bill is sporting a basically permanent smile while watching you

trying to burn the visual of you into his brain so he can keep it forever

his kisses are encapsulating and very distracting

he hates seeing you upset or stressed and he uses kisses and physical affection to help

loves holding you and being the big spoon

and you love it too

it's soooo comforting

and it's never easy to not be constantly reminded that you're in the middle of a war, about to jump into france, etc, but with him, his firm arms around you, it's a little easier to forget

[chuck grant]

chuck strikes me as very confident, kind of like tab

he just wants to appreciate you!

and shower you with love

he will never run out of ways and words to compliment you

he's been admiring you from afar for sooo long, now that your in his arms it feels incredibly surreal

his kisses are always firm and secure

and chuck really likes when you take the lead and take what you want from him

being away from you always stirs something extremely confident and desperate in him

really enjoys holding your hand

always having physical contact with you, that's a necessity

ooo... he loves having a hand on your thigh

especially if he can sneak it under the table during dinner or a meeting

just his hand sliding up and down, gripping and then releasing, and then looking at his innocent yet knowing smile...

that definitely leads to some intense kisses, your hands running through his hair, hand cupping his jawline, you leading the show

he lovesss getting a reaction from you

[emilee1421]

― Anne Carson, Euripides

[emilee1421]

having ocs is like she's my daughter. she's my power fantasy. i'm giving her everything i hate about my personality. she's a war criminal. she's never done anything wrong in her life ever. i love her. i hate her. i'm making her life miserable. who did this to her. she's unlikeable but everyone should like her. she's baby. she does cocaine in the bathroom

[emilee1421]

GET TO KNOW ME!

Thank you @lovememadly92 for the tag!!

NAME:

Emilee (I go by Em)

PRONOUNS:

She/her

STAR SIGN:

Sagittarius

# OF SIBLINGS AND FUN FACTS ABOUT THEM (IF YOU HAVE ANY):

I have one sister who is a year younger. She owns her own business selling designer vintage clothes and curates collections for display in museums and art exhibitions around the U.S.

# OF PETS & THEIR NAMES:

I have one Dog named Opal

FANDOMS:

I just joined Band of Brothers a few weeks ago and love it!

FAVORITE COLOR:

Dark Green

FAVORITE SONG:

It's hard to pick just one! At the moment, I’m loving anything by Teddy Swims! (I just saw him for Kegmas in Atlanta)

FAVORITE AUTHORS (OF ANYTHING READABLE - BOOKS, FANFICS, ZINES, WEBTOONS, WHATEVER!):

Truman Capote (I’ve read ‘In Cold Blood’ more times than I care to admit). My favorite author at the moment is Sarah J. Mass. Her work is very different from what I usually read but she’s great!

FAVORITE FIC TYPE:

Enemies to lovers, friends to lovers or anything with lots of tension and pining between the characters. (extra points if it's also spicy)

FAVORITE HOLIDAY:

Thanksgiving. It's the one holiday that my entire family gets together.

DO YOU HAVE A PARTNER (ROMANTIC, QPR, ANYTHING!)?:

I have a romantic partner who I've been with for 10 years!

HOBBIES:

I love to read, write, travel and I'm currently renovating a beautiful home built in the 1890s.

FUN FACTS ABOUT ME:

-I’m an environmental lawyer and do a lot of pro bono work to clean up and reclaim abandoned strip mines in Appalachia (my family is from Appalachian coal country).

-I love alpine skiing.

-I’m the only person in my family, and extended family, who has green eyes.

Tagging: @Typical-simplelove @lewis-winters @ronsparky @claudycod @eugenescissors

[emilee1421]

Mood board/Cover art for new #Winnix fic I’ve been working on!

[emilee1421]

I hope the fic you are working on right now finds a reader who will think about it constantly for years

[emilee1421]

@lovememadly92 Thank you so so so much for sharing your amazing talents and creating such an excellent work!! I love Charlie’s character and Lewis is just as stubborn as I imagined him. 🫶🏼

@emilee1421 @hbowardaily

Mature themes: 18 and up only! Minors DNI!

TW: Implied References to Abuse, Smut, Angst.

Part 2

December 1st,1944- Mourmelon le Grande, France

God I am so fucking stupid, really fucking stupid.

How dare I be so vulnerable?

I promised myself when I joined the Army, my private life would be out of it. Even George, who I consider my best friend, does not know the intimate details of my private life, how my family is, or how little we get along behind closed doors. I am just Charlie Anderson, a broad who was ballsy enough to join the Army.

But I had to be so fucking weak that I opened myself up to the one person that I least get along with.

Then he hugged me, wiped my tears away like a fucking knight in shining armor.

His embrace, his natural musk, the more I think about it, the more I crave…wait what are you thinking Charlotte Marie, you are supposed to hate him, bicker with him. He is nothing but a pompous asshole who thinks he is better than everyone.

“Charlie, sweetheart! You are supposed to be helping me beat Malarkey here,” George complained, and I shook my head, turning to face George who had an annoyed look on his face. I am sitting here with George, Malarkey, Muck, Penkala, and Frank in the mess hall playing poker, well they are playing poker I am just watching. “Goddamn Malark, I swear you are cheating like you always do.”

“I am sorry Luz, but no one can beat me,” Malarkey chuckled and set his cards down, a winning hand I might add. “Guess Charlie was no help here.”

“Remind me to not ask her for help next time,” George huffed playfully. Then he turns to look at me. “What is up your ass today?”

I glare at him playfully. “Watch it you ass, I may be your friend, but I outrank you.”

“No seriously, what is wrong Charlie, you are not your usual self lately,” George mentions, and the fellas agree. “Ever since that night in Holland, you are more serious, you don’t laugh at my jokes.”

I roll my eyes and chuckle. “Georgie, I will always laugh at your jokes, maybe I wasn’t in the mood that day. All this war shit and me not being platoon leader kind of gets to you.”

“Are you sure that it isn’t about a certain, brooding Captain who so happens to be an intelligence officer?” Muck teased.

My cheeks turn hot. “What are you talking about Muck?”

“I mean, we saw you two hugging outside the barn back in Holland,” George mentions and wiggles his eyebrows. “Dare I say there is love in the air for our sweet lieutenant and our dearest Captain?”

A laugh escapes my lips. “Me and Captain Nixon? Ha, nice joke George, you’ll give Charlie Chaplin a run for his money. Well, I got to go back to my cabin, catch on some sleep because training you assholes is like taking care of children.”

Before they can say anything, I scurry outside into the dark, crisp night. I take a cigarette out and light it up, taking drags as I walk back to my cabin. Me and Lewis, so fucking stupid, it’s like putting oil and water together. It does not match, does not mix. All we do is fight like children and disagree on everything.

Speak of the devil, there is Lewis outside his cabin, smoking and drinking the night away. I find myself walking towards his cabin and standing right in front of him. “Why is it every time I see you, that you are alone lately? Is Dick boring you?”

“Well hello to you Charlie, didn’t your family teach you manners?” He asked sarcastically.

I scoff. “You are giving me a lecture about manners? Give me a break.”

“What do you want Charlie?”

I kick the rock on the ground and then look at him. “I just want to make sure that you don’t go around, saying about what I told you back in Holland. The fellas cannot know about my private life.”

He starts to chuckle. “Charlie for god's sake, I am an intelligence officer, I keep secrets in my head and no one can beat them the hell out of me. So do not worry, no one is going to know about your brother or the other life you have.” He looks up to the sky and then at me, feeling swarming in my stomach.

“Stop Lewis,” I whine.

“Stop what?”

“Staring at me.”

He laughs. “You are in front of me, you came here, who else I am going to stare at?”

“Smart ass, I swear to God. Well goodnight, Lewis, enjoy your drink and cigarette.”

I start to walk away, and his voice stops me. “Charlie, I know I may be an ass, but I will listen to you if you need anything. Anything you tell me; I will take to my grave. No one else will ever find out.”

I find myself smiling and feeling my cheeks hot for a moment. “Thank you, Lewis. Have a good night.” When I turn around and walk away, I can feel his eyes piercing through my back, through my soul even. I kind of like the way he stares at me.

But he cannot know that. Not one bit.

December 10th, 1944

“Finally done with these reports.”

I organize the set of papers together and hand them to Dick so he can review them. He takes one good look and nods. “I guess you are all set Charlie, and here is your pass for the weekend, and please stay out of trouble.”

“Okay big brother, I will,” I salute him and get up from my seat, grabbing my pass. “I hope they don’t send us out soon; I would hate to see replacements not come back home. Hell, I want this war to be over.”

He smiles at me. “Don’t we all? Sigh, go ahead and enjoy your days off. You deserve them.”

I thank him and I head out of the office. When I am walking down the hallway, Lewis walks past me, and I can feel him staring at me. “Charlie, may I have a moment with you please?” I turn back around and follow him to his office, closing the door behind me.

“I was wondering Charlie, if you would like to have a drink with me,” he asked.

My eyes widen. “You are talking to me, not some other lady?”

“Charlie, don’t start,” he began and placed his coat on his chair. “Would you like to have a drink with me?”

“Of course, I have nothing better to do anyway,” I said softly and crossed my arms. “I thought you were going to leave for Aldbourne to look for a lady.”

He shrugs and looks at his paperwork. “I just did not feel like it anymore, have more important matters here.” He turns to look at me. “Well, I will pick you up at 8 pm and please do not take forever.”

“I have to dress nice Lewis, being a lady is pretty difficult,” I smiled. “See you later then.”

I walk out of his office, and I start to feel nervous. What is going on? He and I for a drink, when did hell freeze over?

When I walk out of CP, Luz, and Frank catch up with me as I head to the cabin. “Hey Charlie, want to go on a train to Paris with us tonight?”

“No sorry fellas, I have plans this evening, you go and have fun,” I respond and walk ahead of them and head to my cabin.

Once I arrive, I close the door behind me and try not to panic.

“Don’t worry Charlie, it will all be okay, no worries.”

Hours Later

As I put on my lipstick, I hear knocking at my door. I get up from my chair and straighten myself a bit. “Just don’t be sappy and spread truths about your life, it will all be good Charlie don’t you worry.”

I take a deep breath and walk to the door; when I open it, I find Lewis standing there, smiling at me, looking dapper. However, the more I look at him, the more I find him handsome. The ladies must have been all over him before.

Here you go with those thoughts Charlie.

“You look pretty today.”

I felt myself. “Well thank you very much, you look handsome too, like a million dollars.”

“I am worth more than that, Charlie,” he chuckled and held out his arm for me.

“Don’t push it asshole. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Closing the door behind me, we walked down to the local bar where there were servicemen and nurses alike, mingling with one another and the sound of Glenn Miller echoing throughout the bar. We find a table for us, and a waitress comes and greets us.

Lewis starts to order his drink and then the waitress turns to me.

“A rum with Coke please, don’t go easy on the rum,” I spoke in French, and she smiled before she left.

Lewis looks at me and chuckles. “Oh right, you have been to France before. Did you go to boarding school here?”

I nod. “Oh yes my dear Lewis, I was here in France for a while.” I take out my cigarette and place it between my lips. Before I could light it up, Lewis was already doing it for me. “I was a disaster. My brother did keep good company when he would visit. Like I said before, cabarets and Moulin Rouge were on the itinerary.”

The one thing that you told yourself not to do and yet you are doing it.

“Moulin Rouge,” he said before he blew the smoke in the air along with me. “That place is not for a lady.”

I snort. “Of course, you would know. I wouldn’t be surprised if you visited it before. That’s why you stayed quiet when Bill asked about Lulu’s. You fellas are just a surprise to me every single day.”

The waitress comes with the drinks, and I take a sip while I hold on to my cigarette in the other hand. “And you Charlie, you are the most surprising of them all. Under my nose, you hid yourself well.”

“And how did I do Captain Nixon?” I asked and batted my eyelashes at him, causing his cheeks to pink up a bit. “Did I outsmart the intelligence officer?”

“You did, so cheers to that,” he smiled and clinked his glass with mine.

He stares at me for a moment then takes a deep breath. “Why do you keep your life a secret? I know what happened with your brother, is something I wouldn’t even share. But everything else, why?”

I take another sip of my drink and think about it for a moment. I could say that for one, my parents do not care for me, second, they beat the crap out of me and third, my whole being is just ruined but I always try to have a smile on my face.

“I just don’t like to share about myself, it’s not worth talking about home,” I simply answer.

But knowing Lewis, he wasn’t satisfied with the answer. “Is everything okay at home Charlie?”

“Lewis, I don’t want to talk about it,” I began. “I really don’t want to open up like that.”

He sighs frustratingly. “See, this is what I don’t understand, you are only open about a few things, and when others try to get to know you, the real you, you just block yourself. You are not a child Charlotte, grow up.”

“God,” I huffed. “We were having such a good night then you want to ruin it with all this bullshit, and what gets me angrier is that you make it about you. Like the rich, pompous jerk you are.”

I down my rum and drop a tip on the table. Getting out of my seat, I march away from him, from all of this. However, I did not notice until minutes later that he was following me back to my cabin. “Why don’t you just answer me, Charlie, what is going on at home?”

“Go away Lewis! I don’t know why you care so much!”

Once I reach my cabin, I open the door and when I try to close it, he barges in and closes it behind him. “Why don’t you just talk to me, Charlie? I told you; you can tell me anything, anything you want. Talk to me, Charlie!”

Angry, I take off my jacket and throw it on the floor and I start to unbutton my blouse. “You want to know why, you pompous jerk! Here is why I don’t like to talk about my life. Or what I feel.” I throw the blouse on the floor and turn around in circles. So, he can see all the scars I have from home. “You like what you see Lewis, all these fucking scars on my back? Now this is what happens when you break a porcelain teacup and be a fucking nuisance in your parent’s life!”

I didn’t even realize I was in tears. “This is why I don’t talk about home. Imagine your parents writing to you Lewis, after not hearing from them in a long time, telling you that your brother died, yet they preferred for you to be dead instead? Imagine that shit.” I start to walk towards him and shove him. “Imagine that Lewis, imagine that!” I shove him again, angry at this world, at this life. He grabs me and holds me. “Let me go Lewis.”

“No.”

“I said let me go! No one loves me, the only one who loved me is dead.”

I tried to struggle in his arms, but I was too weak to fight him off. “I said let me go, Lewis!”

“I can’t,” he shouted.

“Why not?!”

“Because I care about you Charlotte that is why!!!”

I stop struggling and look at him straight in the eye. He is angry now and lets me go. “You know how hard it is, to care for someone so long, even when you never noticed how much you did care? Really fucking hard.”

He lets me go. “I don’t know what you do to me Charlie, but you are all I think about even when I don’t want to. Hell, I even love fighting with you because I like seeing the way you scrunch your nose and hearing your voice. So yes, I care about you Charlie and I am sorry that you had to go through that.”

I could see his chest rise, out of breath but keeping his stare on me. “You care for me?”

“You have no idea,” he whispers.

I wipe my tears and walk up to him. I stop myself and start to walk back when he grabs me gently by the wrist, turns me around, and plants his lips on me.

Our lips start moving in sync with another and I wrap my arms around his neck. His lips feel rough but soft at the same time. His hands were caressing my small waist, and then he traced his fingers on my back, touching every scar.

He lets me go for a moment and looks at me. “If we continue, I don’t know if we will be able to stop.”

I smile at him. “Then don’t stop.”

He continues kissing me and my fingers slowly start making their way down to unbutton his jacket, then his blouse. My bare hands caress his chest and his shoulders; for someone who didn’t really do physical workouts, he was beautiful in every sense of the way.

His hand reaches for my back and unclips my bra, leaving me bare right in front of him. I try to cover myself, but he stops me. “You look beautiful in every sense of the way Charlie, don’t be ashamed.”

I nod and he continues kissing me, as he backs me on the bed. My bare back hits the bed and he is on top of me, kissing me down my neck, between the crevasse of my breasts. A soft moan escapes my lips when he kisses my stomach. Then his hands pull down my skirt, along with my panties, leaving me bare.

“You are going to be on top of me,” he mumbled. “I want to see how beautiful you are when you come undone.”

He took off the rest of his clothes and lay on the bed right next to me before pulling me on top of him. I grab his cock and gently sink on top of it. A moan escapes both our lips and as soon I adjust myself, I start to move on top of him. He sits up and his lips attack my neck, savoring every inch of my hot skin. Hearing his moans, and his grunts is music to my ears. God, whoever has been with this man, has been a lucky lady.

And for all this time, instead of fighting and admitting we cared for one another, we could have been enjoying each other, savoring every minute we had before we went into war. But now it’s not the time to look at the past, we are here together, right now and nothing exists, just us.

His lips find my own and he plants his feet on the mattress, thrusting upwards. “Come undone for me doll, I want to feel you drain me.” My toes immediately start to curl, and I hold on to him tightly as a scream escapes both our lips, milking everything out of him.

When we feel our body relax, I can feel him pepper kisses on my sweaty neck and holding on to me tightly.

“I am sorry for being such an asshole Charlie.”

“Why are you saying sorry, I was equally a bitch to you. So I am sorry.”

He laid us both down and he gently started tracing his fingers on my back. “You know things are going to change between us now, Lewis. There is no going back anymore.”

Lewis shrugs and looks at me. “That is fine with me, I prefer it that way.” He smiles at me, and I peck his lips before I lay my head on his chest. “We just have to make sure Dick does not notice, he has the damn eyes of a hawk, he notices when things are slightly off.”

I start to chuckle. “Indeed, he does. We got to be careful with that man.”

“Now don’t go running off telling Luz,” he warned me playfully. “That man is a chatterbox.”

I roll my eyes. “I am not stupid Lewis; I know how my best friend is.”

We both laughed and then looked at each other again. “After the war, if we both make this work and out, I want you to come with me. I do not want you to go back to that place ever again.”

“But Lewis, we are just barely starting, and you haven’t said I love you yet.”

“I will one day,” he said as he tucked a hair behind my ear. “I know I will.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

We enjoyed each other’s company before he had to leave. I walked him to the door and before he left, he leaned in and gave me a good night kiss. “Since you have a couple of days off, we can escape town and have fun.”

“It’s a date.”

“Don’t pack anything, it won’t be necessary.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever you say, Captain.”

“It’s an order.”

I salute him and start smiling. “Yes sir.”

[emilee1421]

I absolutely love where this is heading!! 😍

Hello everyone! This is for @emilee1421, hope you enjoy your Secret Santa gift dear, and that you are having a wonderful day! I wrote two parts, hopefully they don't disappoint! No disrespect to the real veterans, only pure actor portrayal from the show. Happy Holidays everyone, enjoy your weekend!

@hbowardaily

Part 1

October 1944 – Schoonderlogt, Holland

“Lew.”

I groan and don’t even bother looking at the time on my watch. All I want is some sleep but Dick being Dick, he is up and ready as usual. Sometimes I don’t know why he and I are friends, he is an on-time person, while, I personally don’t give a fuck if I am late or not. But for some odd reason, he and I understand each other.

“Wake up, they want us back at the regiment.”

God, the one damn time I find a comfortable place to sleep that isn’t a foxhole, I get woken up.

“Come on Nix get up.” He claps his hands and that irritates me even more. This man can go on little to no sleep. “Let’s go.” He opens the curtains next to the bed and I can feel him leaning over, looking at me.

Probably thinks I am hungover. Then again, cannot blame everyone, everyone thinks I am a damn drunk.

“Come on, something is up, Strayer’s orders.”

This damn regiment, it wants and wants yet does it let me sleep? No.

“Okay go ahead, I’ll be right down.” Hopefully, he goes away. “Let’s go come on, you have ten minutes.”

I groan for the millionth time this morning. “Go away.” I hold on to the pillow for dear life. I don’t want to leave; I need this sleep. The job of an intelligence officer is not easy; calculating the risks of every tactic we want to use, and making sure it does not blow into our faces, is damn difficult.

“Come on big guy, let’s go.”

“Ah, leave me alone,” I mumbled.

He sighs frustratingly. “Okay.” Then I feel something wet and cold spill all over me, causing me to jolt up.

“God damnit,” I complained and took a whiff of my hand and it infuriated me, causing me to sit up on the bed. “Oh, that’s my own piss for Christ's sake!” Grabbing the pillow, I wipe myself with it before throwing it at Dick’s face.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered and got up from the bed, pushing him while he was laughing at me.

I am going to get him later, that is for sure.

“Dick, are you guys ready, they need us at headquarters!” I hear a female voice call from downstairs and I groan internally. Of course, he had to bring his little sidekick with him just to torment me and rush me.

That is so Dick and Charlie.

When she walked inside the room, Charlie scrunched up her little nose and started to take a whiff around the room, until she was right in front of me, then proceeded to glare at me. Not without her pinching her nose.

“Oh, poor Lewis. Did he literally piss the night away or what?” She teased and chuckled. “God Dick.” She turned to look at him. “I told you many times to watch over our dear intelligence officer. Don’t want him to fall in a pool of piss again.” She backed away and crossed her arms, keeping her stare on me.

I smile forcefully and wave at her. “Always the damn charmer Charlie, can you go somewhere with your insults and let the adults do the work?” Dick shook his head. “We don’t need children interrupting.”

She scoffed. “Hey, fuck you rich boy. At least I am not falling into piss or into things like you always do. Besides I am close to the same age as you, asshole, only off by three years. So, I am an adult as much as you both are.”

I groaned. “Can you just get out Charlie?! I want to shower right away.”

“Pssh well good luck with that, this house has nothing but cold water anyway,” she huffed and then proceeded to walk downstairs.

It is always like this between Charlie and me. If she wasn’t attractive, I would find her even more annoying than…wait, what the fuck are you saying Lew?

Dick turns to look at me and rolls his eyes. “You two need to get along for God's sake, your bickering is going to get a lot of us killed. Plus, you know as much as everyone else, she is one of the best lieutenants this company has ever had. Hell, even the men like her, she is lenient but hardworking when it comes to training them.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, Charlotte is the best, blah, blah. Can I go shower now?”

Dick rolls his eyes once more before he walks out. “No one is stopping you, Lew.”

*****

After finishing my shower, which was fucking cold, we all headed back to headquarters. As I was ranting to Dick, I could see Charlie mocking me along the way and shaking her head. I wonder sometimes how in the hell she became a lieutenant, better yet getting promoted to 1st lieutenant.

When we got off the Jeep, Charlie stood there with her arms crossed. “Do you fellas want me to pick up your mail?” I smirk at her.

“You can get me a cup of coffee while you are it.”

She scoffed and proceeded to flip me off. “I am not your fucking maid, get your own damn coffee.” Charlie marched away and I could see Dick smirking while shaking his head.

“What? She offered if she could get us anything.”

We walked into battalion headquarters and got to talking with Strayer, Moose, Colonel Sink, and Colonel Dobie, who was part of the 1st British Airborne. Turns out, Dobie needs help with the rescue of 140 of his men who are trapped across the Rhine River. So now we are sitting in his office, trying to coordinate an operation.

We are discussing the tactics, when suddenly, Charlie walks in with a coffee and sets it right in front of me. But she doesn’t say anything, she is quiet. When she sat right across from me, her eyes were red-shot, puffy. Like she was crying. She was happy and chipper this morning, teasing me but now she is quiet and somber.

That oddly had me worried. I even felt my heart sink a little. God Lewis, you are stupid, you and this girl are supposed to have out for each other and now you care about her feelings and how she feels. You are stupid. Besides, she is probably on her period, and she is being a negative Nancy right now.

“So tonight then,” Colonel Dobie asked.

I nodded. “Yes, the sooner the better it will be. You do not want to waste any more time.” Then I turned to Charlie and Moose. “Moose, would you mind if Charlie goes along with you and Harry to help with the rescue operation?”

“I have no problem. Charlie, would you like to help with the operation?”

Quietly, she got up and walked out of the room. Of course, she would throw her tantrum here. I excused myself momentarily and followed her outside headquarters.

“Damnit Charlie, this operation is important for you to be acting like a child. If something is asked of you, I expect you to follow fucking orders.” I turn her around for a moment and she is in tears. Her once, light green eyes, turned into an emerald color.

“Look Charlie,” I sighed. “You cannot be acting like a child and if you are on your period…”

Her tiny nose flares up and she shoves me away. For a small lady, she is damn strong. “Oooo nice one, rich boy. What other insult can you come up with besides me being on my period and being a child?” She sniffles. “I don’t know how the fuck you became an intelligence officer, so damn out of touch with fucking people. If you must know everything, I just got a letter, my older brother is dead. As for me following orders, of course, I will go, Captain.” She salutes me sarcastically and walks away.

Charlie did not even give me a chance to say anything, she was gone. Aside from her extroverted demeanor, she never really talked about family to anyone, not even Luz who is her best buddy.

“What was that about?”

I turn to Dick and shrug. It’s best not to say, no one needs to know.

“Nothing Dick.”

Hours Later

When the 140 men were rescued across the Rhine, Dobie decided to celebrate and invited Easy Company to celebrate along with his men. As the men are competing amongst themselves, climbing rope and whatnot, I look to my right and Luz is trying to convince Charlie to come and join the rest of the group.

She gave him a smile, a beautiful smile I might add, and she shook her head. “You fellas have fun, don’t let the party pooper ruin a good time.” Luz gave her a smile and then joined his friends while Charlie made her way outside.

I decide to follow her outside the barn, and I find her leaning against the wall, looking at the beautiful, starry night.

“Come to bug Lewis, I don’t need your pity,” she sneered and turns to look at me. “As you can see, I am not in the mood to talk at all.”

Reaching for my pocket, I grab the pack of cigarettes and try to hand them to her. “I come in peace dear Charlie of mine.” She tries to reach for them, but I pull them back towards me. “But first, you tell what is going on then I will hand you the pack of cigarettes.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I already told you, my brother died, there is nothing more to it.”

“There is if it has you riled up like that,” I retorted, and she sighed. “And walking you out of a meeting like that. I know you act like a child, but you are the one to listen to superiors when told something to do.”

Charlie huffs and backs herself against the wall again. “For someone who calls me a child sure pays attention to what I do half the damn time. Do not tell me our dear, old intelligence officer has gotten soft.”

I huff and lean against the wall with her. “Me, get soft, you have to be shitting me, Charlie. I am not a soft guy, now if you want someone that is in touch with his emotions, go talk to Dick or Harry, hell go talk to Luz if you want.”

Then it got quiet, except for the noise inside the barn and the occasional crickets chirping. She turns to look at me and shrugs. That somber look appears on her face again. “My older brother, Anthony, was with the 4th Marine Division in the Pacific. A fucking radioman like Luz, hell even happy and cheery like Luz. You wouldn’t shut him up even if you wanted to.” She sighs and looks at me with tears in her eyes. Out of nowhere, I find myself wiping the tears from her cheeks, ever so gently. Charlie is taken aback but continues her story.

“They killed him during a night raid assault back in Saipan; they found him along with his radio right next to him. My parents, being the assholes that they are, did not let me know until August and I just received the letter this morning.”

She shook her head, and I could not help but feel an ache in my chest. “He was always so happy, so loving and caring. Tony would sing along and dance to Fred Astaire, Billie Holiday. I remember one time when we went to Paris, he managed to sneak me into a cabaret to watch Josephine Baker dance the night away. We got in so much trouble, but we laughed about it after.”

“Wait a minute, Paris, cabaret…” Now it dawns on me, oh Charlie is a sneaky one. I should have known from the start. “Whose family do you belong to rich girl?”

She chuckled softly and looked at me with a gleam in her eye. “I am not Charlotte Anderson, I am Charlotte Rossi, from the Rossi family back in New York City. You never met me because I was in boarding school half the time along with the rest of my siblings. Anderson is my mother’s maiden name. I am surprised that it took you this damn long, especially being an intelligence officer.”

“I did look up your family, I did not find anything on you,” I admitted. “Anderson was a really good cover-up.” She shook her head and started laughing. I look at her in shock, for one minute she is sad and the next, just laughing the night away like nothing.

“You are a strange creature, Charlie,” I snorted and started laughing along with her. She really does have a contagious laugh. Why did it take me so long to see it?

Things got quiet between us, then I decided to speak up. “I am sorry about your brother Charlie, I really am. He sure did sound like a good fella. But him taking you to a cabaret? Really Charlie?”

Charlie nods and looks at me, with a sad smile on her face. Even then she looks beautiful as hell.

God Lewis, again?

“That was Tony for you, fun, loving, smart, and overall, a great man,” she sighed and little tears sprinkled on the ground. “We were supposed to survive this, you know, have a drink when this was over. Sigh, I am going to miss him.”

Slowly, I turn around pull her into an embrace, and let her cry on my shoulder. I hold her tightly, closing my eyes. Even though she hasn’t showered, she still smells like roses. A scent that just does not fit with anyone but with her, it just did. Why did it take so long to notice these things?

“Am I interrupting anything?”

We both let go of one another to only find Dick starting at both of us, with a cheeky smile on his face.

“No, no interruptions whatsoever, touch me like that again Lewis and I will beat your ass,” she huffed and walks away back to the barn with the rest of the fellas.

Then Dick crosses his arms and just stares at me. “Is there something you want to tell me, Lew?”

I groan and take a swig of my decanter. “About Charlie? Nothing is going on and please wipe that smile off your face before I do.”

Dick lifts his hands up in defeat and gives me a smile. “There is nothing wrong with liking Charlie, I like her the men like her…”

“Okay enough, don’t you have paperwork to be done or what?”

Dick just chuckles and then walks away back to the command post and leaves me outside here with my thoughts.

I place the cigarette between my lips and light it up.

“What the hell are you doing to me, Charlie Rossi?”

[emilee1421]

Hello please reblog this if you’re okay with people sending you random asks to get to know you better

[emilee1421]

@typical-simplelove

Merry Christmas @typical-simplelove!! This is your secret Santa gift and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it!!

Paris, France - Christmas Eve 1945

The tires of the taxi splashed through the snow and slush as the driver navigated the busy streets of Paris. Despite the late hour, the streets were still bustling with people hurrying between the decorated shops and enjoying the holiday season. There was plenty to celebrate this year now that the war was finally over and life was returning to normal.

Speirs stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and tried to roll some of the nervous tension out of his shoulders. His fingers found the folded paper in his pocket, soft around the edges from being folded and unfolded over and over.

‘17 Rue De Saint Germain, Apt. 4’ the single line of neatly typed words was etched into his memory from the time the secretary had handed him the paper at the regiment offices in London.

He finally had an address.

Her ‘last known address’ as the secretary had put it. If nothing else it was a start. He made a promise to her and he would search the world over to keep it.

The snow started falling heavier as they drove. The flakes fell like feathers from the sky, adding a fresh sparkling layer to the rooftops and streets. It was picturesque; Christmas Eve in Paris. But he couldn't enjoy the scenery because of the tangle of nerves that tightened in his chest with each passing minute. As the taxi continued toward his destination, he let his thoughts wander back to the night that had changed everything between them.

Mourmelon-le-Grand, France - December 1944.

His heart hammered in his chest as he made his way to Battalion CP as fast as he could without breaking into a run.

He was getting ahead of himself. He was sure this would all be for nothing. Liebgott didn't know what the hell he was talking about, he must have misheard the name or it was just a sick coincidence.

Then again, how many Serena Arringtons from Boston were there?

He willed his breathing to stay steady and swallowed down the lump of dread that had been threatening to choke him since Heffron and Liebgott had come back from patrol telling everyone about the woman they found on the road just outside the city.

‘Serena Arrington. An SOE agent from Boston, or so she says.’ Liebgott’s voice played over and over in his head as he reached the CP.

He bounded up the stairs, shouldering past the men milling in the hall and carrying papers between the makeshift offices.

The door at the end of the hall swung open. Nixon and Winters filed out after Colonel Sink, discussing something in hushed voices before Sink tucked what looked to be a map into his jacket pocket and hurried off toward his office.

Spiers stepped aside to let him pass with a salute.

“Lieutenant Speirs” Nixon addressed him, stopping with Winters in the hall.

Speirs swallowed hard, his throat felt like sandpaper. “Sir, Heffron and Liebgott claim they found someone on their patrol and brought them to you. Name sounded familiar so I wanted to see if I could help out.”

Nixon quirked a dark brow. “That’s right. An American. Said her name was Serena Arrington.”

Speirs felt the blood drain from his face. It must have shown judging by the inquisitive look on Nix’s face. “You know this woman, Lieutenant?

”Yes sir.” He forced the words past the bile that crept up his throat. What the hell was she doing here?

“She’s over at the aid station now with Doc…”

He turned and strode down the hall before Nixon could even finish.

He frantically scanned the faces in the aid station until he caught sight of familiar golden blonde hair. She stood out in stark contrast from the men in her delicate white blouse and skirt. But he knew he could have picked her out from any crowd; an undeniable magnetism between them.

He moved across the room, heart pounding in his ears, until he was only a few steps from her.

She sat stock still in a chair, her eyes squeezed shut as Doc Roe carefully stitched a wound on her shoulder. He felt like the air had been punched out of him as he stopped and took in the sight of her. Bloodied and a little worse for the wear but somehow just as beautiful as the last night he’d spent with her.

“Serena,” he rasped.

Her jade eyes snapped open, her breath visibly catching in her chest as she met his gaze and sat forward on impulse.

“Easy, almost done here.” Doc Roe soothed. But Roe’s calming words were drowned out by the timbre of Spier’s voice, closer now.

“Serena?” he rumbled again, studying her green eyes that, not so long ago, held his entire universe.

Doc Roe followed her gaze as he looked up at Ron.

“You know Lieutenant Speirs?” Roe questioned, trying his best to keep track of what the hell was going on.

The silence languished between them as he held her bewildered gaze; searching for something, anything to say to her. But nothing he thought of felt right in the moment.

She was here. In France. At the edge of the allied advance into occupied territory. How the hell-

“Ron is a friend from back home, in Boston” Serena finally answered, shattering the spell between them and facing Roe with a tired smile.

A friend. The word sounded hollow and wrong. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what he would call them now.

They had danced around their feelings for one another for so long, tangled them into such an inextricable knot, that there was no way to know how the other truly felt. He had been her brother’s best friend since grammar school but his and Serena’s relationship had bloomed over the years into something neither of them could ignore.

They’d acted on that undeniable magnetic force between them a few times but left so much unsaid with the naive hope that things would just work out. By the time he acknowledged the depth of his feelings for Serena, it was too late. Harrison Carmichael always had his eye on her and he’d finally charmed her into a date over two years ago.

And then the war happened.

The last he’d heard, Carmichael had proposed. Speirs looked to her left hand, something fluttering behind his ribs when he didn’t see a ring.

She looked up again at his familiar umber eyes as Doc. Roe finished up with her shoulder. She studied the creases that formed at the corners, infinitesimally deeper than when she’d last seen them. Something haunted and pained dulled the rich brown; something that was never there before the war.

It was disorienting. Any change at all to the face she knew better than her own reflection seemed impossible. It dredged up the reality of how much time had passed since they last saw one another; How they had both changed.

Ron cleared his throat, realizing he’d been staring. Again.

“I’ll show you to a room in the billets, I’m sure you could use some rest after …” he tailed off as the thought of how she’d ended up here turned his stomach.

She nodded in response and thanked Roe as she pulled her blouse back over her now bandaged shoulder. Speirs shrugged off his thick jacket to drape over her shoulders. His warmth and woodsy scent surrounded her in the jacket. She pulled the collar tighter around her and let Ron lead her out of the aid station with a steady, solid hand on the small of her back.

He leaned his back against the building that served at the billet for Easy Company, shifting close but not close enough to touch her injured arm.

She pulled a small silver flask from the pocket of her dress. She took a sip then handed it to him.

He took a drink, wincing at the vicious burn that settled into a dull warmth in his stomach.

“Jesus” he huffed, handing the flask back.

“Couldn’t find any good bourbon out here.” She laughed, taking another long sip before leaning her head back against the rough bricks.

He huffed a laugh, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep inhale to settle the edginess he felt at seeing here.

Her eyes slipped closed for a moment and he took the opportunity to look her over. Really look at her.

Her brow seemed permanently creased with concern, a fading bruise colored her left cheekbone and her plush bottom lip was split at the corner. It turned the warm burn of the liquor into a roiling, sick heat.

So many questions burned like embers, stoked up into a blaze by the protective instinct that always seemed to take over when he was around Serena.

“How are you here, Serena? What the hell happened?” He blurted, his fingers itching to pull her close and keep her there.

She stared unseeing into the dark, flinching slightly from his tone. She took another pull from the flask and swallowed hard. “What all did they tell you?”

“Said you were working for the SOE.” Speirs replied.

“Shortly after you left for basic training, I decided I wanted to do my part too. I was selected for the SOE along with a few others from my unit. I was in London for a while before my work brought me here to…” her voice trailed off and she took another drink from the flask.

“What happened?” He asked again, gentler this time as he watched her spine go rigid and her gaze drift up to the inky night sky.

“Please don’t ask me that.” Her voice was a strangled whisper.

A few beats of unbearable silence passed between them.

“Well, Whatever it was, you’re safe now.” The need to comfort her coiled itself tighter within him.

Serena huffed a humorless laugh. “You know what they say Ron, never trust a survivor until you find out what they did to survive.”

“Can’t be any worse than the things I’ve done.” He replied flatly.

“No. No, I don’t believe that.” She replied resolutely, turning to look at him with that penetrating gaze that both infuriated him and mesmerized him.

“What if it’s true?” He murmured, glancing over at her and half expecting to see the now familiar edge of fear or wariness he saw when others here looked at him.

But she looked at him with deep consideration like she was the only one who really saw him.

“I know it isn’t true. Because I know that who we are and who we have to be to survive this can be two very different people.”

He hated the way those words sounded coming from her. Hated the way the warmth in her eyes dimmed, like a cloud passing in front of the sun. Hated that she understood that feeling that gnawed and twisted in his chest every single day. She may not have jumped into Normandy with him, but she was fighting this war all the same. She knew all too well the indelible marks that war left on a person.

Despite the weight of it all, there was no pity or disgust or fear in those jade eyes as they watched him, only a deep, quiet understanding that soothed him to his soul.

Her cold fingers laced between his, her thumb tracing softly over the rough skin of his knuckles. He released a shuddered breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. He missed her touch so much it physically pained him.

Silence settled between them again as another question burned through him until he couldn’t contain it any longer.

“How’s Harrison? He ever enlist?” Speirs asked, forcing a casual coolness in his voice even as he triple checked her left hand to make sure the ring really wasn't there.

“Probably still working for his father if I had to guess. I haven’t spoken to him in a year, not since we ended the engagement.”

He couldn’t help the rush of selfish relief as she confirmed his suspicion that they weren’t together. He watched her closely, waiting for sadness, or even anger to show in her expression, but it never came.

“Never liked him much anyway.” Spiers murmured, watching the cigarette smoke twist and writhe in the night air as he tried to hide his smug satisfaction.

“You don’t like anything enough for that to be a fair test.” Serena smirked, bumping him playfully with her good shoulder.

God, He’d missed this. Missed the simple intimacy that could only come from someone who’d known you for your entire life.

He missed her. Desperately.

“He’s a fool to let you go.” He muttered, taking another long drag of his cigarette to try and dislodge the weight of guilt that settled in his gut. He’d been a fool too.

“I guess it was really me who let him go.” She mused.

His heart stuttered against his ribs.

“I couldn’t love him, not like he deserved…because I never stopped loving someone else.”

Her cold fingers laced between his, her thumb tracing softly over the rough skin of his knuckles. He released a shuddered breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. He missed her touch so good, it bordered on pain.

Her eyes lifted to his and the unmistakable plea smoldered in her gaze. “I never stopped.”

The gravity of her words slammed into him like a mortar blast as he held her gaze in stunned silence.

Then without any warning or pretense, or even considering the consequences, he kissed her.

He kissed her until they were both breathless, making up for all the times it should have been him kissing her; for all the times they may never have.

The thought alone was a punch to the gut.

Speirs hadn’t let himself consider the prospect of tomorrow since they’d landed in Normandy. He accepted that he was already a dead man and dwelling on tomorrow was a damn waste of time when you probably wouldn’t even survive the next hour.

He wasn’t leaving anything unsaid this time, not when this could be the only time they would have.

He felt her body melt into his touch and for a brilliant moment every doubt and worry dissolved with the caress of their lips and the warmth of her body against his. He let his body tell her more than his words ever could.

He threaded his fingers into her golden strands and held her there for what could have been hours before he finally broke the kiss. He lifted her to her feet, careful of her injured arm, and led her into the billet.

As soon as the door shut he reached down to cup Serena’s face in both his hands. Speirs tilted her chin up and kissed her hard, feeling her body relax fully into him.

He traced his thumb over her plush bottom lip, savoring the softness of that familiar perfectly bowed pout. Something snapped into place between them at that moment, all the hesitation of the last several years dissolving away as his tongue slid delicately over the seam of Serena’s lips. She kissed back, sucking his bottom lip and nipping it just hard enough to send a thrill of pain and pleasure down his spine. Speirs’ fingers found the hair at the base of her neck, gripping tightly to hold her head back, exposing the elegant curve of her throat.

Serena was breathless, completely lost to the tugging fingers tangled in her hair and the press of warm lips to the column of her throat as pleasure and anticipation coursed through her veins,

“I love you, Serena.” He whispered in her ear, his breath caressing the sensitive skin of her neck. “I think I’ve loved you since that summer you turned 15.”

She pulled back, looking up at him with wide, searching eyes.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said it.”

His brows knit together as he thought back to all the times it had been right there on the tip of his tongue, so obvious in the way his whole being lit up when she was around. But he never dared to give that feeling a name until now.

A lazy smile curved Serena’s lips and she leaned in close to him. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Serena.” He rumbled.

“I love you too.” She sighed as he captured her lips in another searing kiss.

Speirs guided her to the far side of the bed, insisting that he sleep between her and the door. Serena agreed without argument, finally surrendering the exhaustion from the past few days. She sank into the warmth of his chest, listening to the even thrum of his heartbeat. His fingers danced over the gentle ridge of her collarbone and down the smooth skin of her arm, trying his best to avoid the bandages.

“Where were you before this?” He asked quietly.

“Here, in France.” She replied, not elaborating any further.

“Will they send you back?” The thought of her being sent back behind enemy lines made his chest clench painfully. He understood the value of her work, the vital role that agents like her played in the war and the edge they provided to the allied forces. But the urge to put her on the next ship to the states was nearly insurmountable.

“Yes.” She replied. He could hear the resolve in her voice.

“Where?”

She huffed a wry laugh. “You know I can’t tell you.”

”I have to know you’re safe,” the edge of desperation ringing in his voice.

She didn’t respond for a while, focusing instead on the steady beat of his heart reverberating behind his ribs. Memorizing the rhythm of him.

“We always find our way back to one another don't we?” She murmured.

He couldn't tell if she sounded hopeful or defeated.

“I guess we do.” He murmured, pulling her closer and soaking in the feel of her in his arms.

It was quiet for a long time after, neither willing to shatter the fragile peace that had settled between them.

Speirs woke the next morning to the first tepid rays of sunlight, stretching his arm out to find nothing but cool sheets beside him.

His pulse spiked as he sat up, quickly searching the room. He was alone.

He flung the wool blanket from his legs and noticed the small folded paper flutter to the floor. He picked it up and unfolded it carefully, reading her neat handwriting.

“Find your way back to me. I love you”

Paris, France - Christmas Eve 1945

The Taxi pulled away and he was left in front of the large limestone building. Warm golden light spilled from the windows onto the street, beckoning him inside and illuminating the placard above the main doors. ‘17 Rue De Saint Germain’

He nearly ran up the steps, eyes scanning the polished wood doors until he found the one marked with a brass 4.

He knocked on the door as gently as he could manage, heart beating in his throat. He’d thought of nothing but this moment for so long. Her words from that note had pulled him through countless miserable nights.

“Find your way back to me.”

He’d found his way. He survived a war and pulled every string until he managed to track her down to this apartment. It occurred to him as he waited at the door that he never thought of what he’d say to her when he found her.

The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow but there was no sound from behind the door. He knocked again, listening for any movement on the other side.

Nothing.

Icy dread seeped through his veins. The secretary had said it was her last known address. What if she’d left? Gone back to the States maybe? What if she was never here at all?

Footsteps sounded and the metallic thump of a lock turning pulled him from his thoughts as the door on the other side of the stairs opened and a young woman stepped out.

“Bonjour madame.” Spiers called out, getting the young woman’s attention.

“Bonjour.” She replied, smiling kindly at him.

“Do you know who lives here?” He asked, pointing to apartment 4.

The woman’s brow furrowed in confusion. He racked his memory for the rudimentary phrases he remembered from his time in Normandy and Mourmelon-le-Grand.

“Tu les connais?” He fumbled over the words and pointed back to the door.

“Ouí, Serena.”

Relief flooded through him at the sound of her name. She was here. He found her.

“She’s at the cathedral.” The woman added in broken English “for her…” the woman searched for the word. “Her husband”

Spiers felt the air rush out of his lungs as the words landed like a blow to the ribs. The relief he felt moments before now souring in his gut.

“I see.” He backed away from the door, his feet moving on their own accord toward the staircase. “Merci.”

“Joyeux Noël, monsieur!” The girl called cheerfully down the hall but he hardly heard her over the pounding blood in his ears and his heavy footfalls on the stone steps; hollow and defeated.

He felt… numb. That was the only word that came remotely close to describing the wretched hollowed out feeling. Not a comfortable numb like morphine. No, this was the kind of numb that felt like being exposed to the bitter cold for far too long. Burning and aching before finally settling into a dangerous numbness that if allowed to go on, would prove fatal.

Serena was alive. She was safe here in Paris. That should be enough for him; but it did absolutely nothing to soothe the crushing weight of loss in his chest.

A frosty chill swept up the staircase as the front doors opened and a woman hurried in from the cold, her arms balancing several wrapped packages as she searched through her handbag.

“Joyeux Noël” she greeted softly as they passed one another at the bottom of the steps.

A jolt of recognition shot through him. He’d know that voice anywhere.

“Serena?!” He turned to face her on the steps.

The woman lifted her head and a familiar pair of jade eyes met his. It was relief and heartbreak all in the same breath.

The packages tumbled to the floor as she stood frozen on the second step.

Without a word she bounded across the entryway and threw herself at him. His arms caught her easily and he held her tight against him.

He pressed his face into her blonde curls and filled his lungs with the soft scent of her; sweet jasmine perfume and something warm that was decidedly Serena. His grip tightened as he felt the tremble of her body and a shuddered sob slipped past her lips.

“It’s really you. You’re here.” Her voice trembled as she ran her hands over his shoulders, over his chest and arms like she was making sure he was solid and not an apparition.

“You just disappeared Serena. I didn’t know if you… if you were-“ he rasped, throat raw with the pent up agony of nearly a year of wondering where she was or if she was even alive. Even in his darkest days, he’d held on to his promise to her; he swore it had saved him more than once. During his run across Foy all he thought of was her smile, her eyes, and the way she felt in his arms.

And here they were; she was finally back in his arms where she belonged.

Except she wasn’t his. Not anymore. Icy dread lanced through him as he remembered her neighbor's words.

Her husband.

She had been at the cathedral with her husband. His dread tangled with the acrid flare of anger; she told him to find her but she’d moved on before he even had the chance. The dark irony wasn’t lost on him that for the second time, he was too late.

He took a step back from her despite the ache in his limbs and the voice in his head screaming at him to fight for her and never let her go again.

“I- um I just needed to see you again Serena. Just needed to see that you were ok. It’s so good to see you’re doing well.” He said stiffly, forcing the ghost of a smile onto his face.

Her brow pinched in confusion at the sudden strained distance between them.

He cleared his throat of the rough emotion threatening to strangle him. “I won’t keep you, you probably need to get back to your husband. Congratulations by the way.” He was rambling. It was so unlike him but he couldn’t seem to make it stop.

He’d led men through enemy fire, through artillery strikes, and suffered the frozen hell that was Bastogne all without hesitation. Nothing rattled him quite like her presence.

She took a step forward, reaching for him as he edged toward the door.

“Ron, What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your neighbor said you were out with your husband; to the cathedral for the candlelight vigil or something.” He stumbled through his explanation.

Her husband. The word felt bitter and wrong on his tongue.

“What?! No, I told her-“ Serena shook her head in disbelief as it slowly dawned on her what was happening.

“I should go.” He cut her off, turning quickly for the door.

He grabbed the handle to the large ornate doors but her delicate fingers caught his wrist before he could open it. He swore his heart halted in his chest as she gently guided him back to face her.

Her eyes shimmered with tears waiting to spill over as she searched his face, begging him to stay.

War was hell, but this was the worst sort of torture. He had to get out of here.

“Ron” Her voice was soft and careful as her hands gripped his arms. Even through the thick wool of his coat, her warmth felt like the only thing tethering him to the present.

“I’m not married.” she emphasized each word, holding his gaze intently. “I light those candles at the Cathedral for you.”

He was certain he’d stopped breathing. The room spun briefly and the warm, light feeling bloomed in his chest again.

“I must have lit a thousand of them in every city I was sent to during the war, but I ask for the same thing every time.” A single tear spilled down her cheek. “For you to find your way back to me.”

He scooped her into his arms and claiming her lips in a slow, deep kiss. He held her there, kissing her with growing need until they were both breathless.

“I love you Serena.” he panted as he tipped her chin up. Her kiss bitten lips curved into a dazzling smile as another glittering tear slid down her cheek.

“I love you too.” she laughed wetly, “I knew you’d come back to me.”

“Always.”

He was still thousands of miles from Boston, but for the first time since the war began, he was home for Christmas.

[emilee1421]

My roommate had a thing for any and all men in uniform. Speaking from experience, avoid those guys at the club at all costs…

Also, I was doing some research for a fic this weekend and discovered “pro stations” and now I’m over here wondering how many of the hbo war boys were frequent visitors 😅😂

sometimes I forget that the hbo war dudes are actually just 21-26 years old at average and I have to laugh because have you tried dating 20+ year old boys? they're insufferable. and they're all soldiers too?? at this point do you WANT an std????

[emilee1421]

Lavender's Blue, Lavender's Green

[One-shot]

Lewis Nixon x Enlisted!Female Reader

After you wind up injured in a freak accident, your relationship with Captain Nixon is forever altered.

Warnings: MAJOR Canon Divergence, Minor Reader Injury, Detailed Descriptions of Pain, Language, Alcohol Consumption, Weapons, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Oblique References to Nixon's Alcoholism and Infidelity, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Language, Mature/Explicit Themes [oral sex - m/f receiving, unprotected vaginal sex] - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Self-indulgent canon divergence with little explanation ahead, read at your own risk. Some liberties were taken in describing reader's family life/personal history for the sake of plot. No physical descriptions or y/n used. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 8358

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

The floorboards creaked beneath your jump boots as you followed O’Keefe into the backroom of the half-destroyed café in Thalem. You could hear the strains of a string quartet rising from the square below, and the conversation between Luz and Nixon a few rooms over. O’Keefe had shown up as a replacement during Easy’s second stay in Mourmelon-le-Grand, wide-eyed and eager to get his hands dirty. The rest of you had just been glad to make it out of Haguenau alive.

But there was something about the naïve boy that reminded you of your little brother back home, the youngest of four siblings born after you, last to join the party, the most eager to experience life when the rest of you were all jaded by the loss of your mother during his birth. Add in the fact that you too had been a replacement once, joined Easy in Aldbourne for Operation Market Garden – one of twenty-seven women selected as the first female paratroopers to join the 506th – and you had felt a certain protectiveness over the kid. Which was why you found yourself watching over him now, even in this relatively harmless town.

Another groan of wood had your eyes flicking to the floor, something about the pitch of the slats not sitting right with you, but before you could open your mouth to warn him, there was an ominous ‘crack’ beneath O’Keefe. He let out a horrific shriek as the boards beneath him began to give way and you lunged forward, snapping out your left hand to grab onto any part of him you could. Seizing him by the back of the collar of his ODs, you landed flat on your stomach with a grunt with O’Keefe dangling through the newly created hole in the floor. Your helmet tumbled from your head, bouncing off his and crashing onto the tiles below.

Your arm was aching under the strain of his body weight but as you tried to spread some of the load onto your second hand, you realized the butt of your rifle was jammed between the floor and your body, pinning your right arm against you with the strap over your shoulder. The sound of multiple sets of boots running into the room was quickly followed by several pairs of hands pressing against your calves, bracing you to keep you from following O’Keefe through the hole.

“I gotta let you go, Patty.” You grit out. “It’s not far, ok?” You assured him, able to see through the ragged gap in the wood that he was dangling only a few feet from the floor below.

His response was not what you were hoping for. “Don’t let me fall!” He cried out, looking up to you with wide, calf-like eyes. “Please don’t let me go!” He began to clutch at your arm, flailing his legs as though he wanted to climb back up.

His body swung like a pendulum, bouncing and jerking before ultimately wrenching your strained shoulder from its joint and careless words born of pain from your lips.

“Augh! Jesus Christ, you fucking meatball! It’s only two feet! Let go!” You cried out, clenching your eyes shut against the blinding pain, your grip failing as your arm started to go numb.

He continued to whimper nonsensically and thrash about as heavy footfalls sound on the stairs followed by a set of lighter ones.

“Let go of her you fucking meatball!” You heard Perconte snap at O’Keefe from below and cracked your stinging eyes open to see that Bull had seized the boy around the waist, the thrashing finally stilling before the weight of him was released from your limb as, at last, he let go of your arm.

Relief tingled through you, though did nothing to lessen the raw ache in your shoulder. Afraid to move, afraid to inhale more than tiny sips of air lest you fan the flames of pain, you laid perfectly still with your arm outstretched toward the ground below.

“What a fucking meatball.” You heard Luz giggle from behind you as he stepped forward. “Let’s get you up.” His voice grew closer as he leaned forward.

Mortifying as it was, laying there in denial was not going to make the agony end. Taking a shaky breath, you asked quietly. “George, can you go find Doc, please?” You were hoping not to arouse the suspicions of Webster, Liebgott, and Nixon who were somewhere in the room still. At least one pair of hands was still firmly gripping your calves.

“Uh, the meatball is fine, I mean Bull might tear him a new one but…” He trailed off as you turned your head slowly to look up at him, brow furrowing as lances of pain pierced your neck and shoulder. It felt as though someone were pouring boiling water down the sleeve of your uniform.

“For me, please.” You clarified, perspiration dotting your skin under the strain of masking your discomfort.

The room fell silent, whatever Liebgott and Webster had been bickering about forgotten as Luz shoved his way past them and shot out of the room. You felt the pressure against your calves ease up before Nixon was kneeling on the floor next to you, features etched with concern. “Where are you hurt?”

“Left shoulder.” You exhaled, swallowing at the way his eyes ricocheted over your prone form.

“Think you can get up for me?” He asked, his voice enticingly softly, making your heart skip a few beats as you felt suddenly willing to try anything he might ask of you so long as he kept speaking like that.

“Maybe?”

The smile he awarded you with filled your stomach with bubbling effervescence. “Good, let’s get this out of the way first.” He carefully extracted your M1 from beneath your hip before sliding it off your good shoulder, handing it off to one of the other men in the room.

Sliding his arm around your waist, he started to lift your torso from the floor, punching the air from your lungs painfully. Gnawing on the inside of your cheek viciously you did everything you could not cry out in pain. You were not the first woman in Easy to get hurt – Esther had been hit by shrapnel from a tree in Bastogne and Pearl had been shot during Dike’s disastrous assault on Foy. Both had been awarded a purple heart. You were just a girl who’d tried to hold too much weight – there would be no medal for you, so it would be best not to make a scene.

“Shit you must be in so much pain, I’m sorry.” Nixon grumbled, seemingly at a loss as to how to get your arm out of that hole and you into a more comfortable position.

Roe’s voice downstairs broke through the haze of pain, and you clenched your teeth, willing yourself to hold on a little longer as you heard him hurry up the stairs.

“You two, out.” He said firmly to Liebgott and Webster who left without comment before his hands came to rest on your hips, pulling you backwards. “Bend ya knees for me, that’s it, good job.” He spoke calmly as he worked with Nixon to lift you up into a kneeling position well away from the hole in the floor.

As your left arm drooped, your right hand quickly moved to support it in more or less the position it had been when O’Keefe’s movements had pulled it out of place. A millimetre of movement in any direction had you whimpering pathetically in the back of your throat despite your best efforts to keep the sound sealed behind your lips.

“What’s going on?” Roe asked as he knelt in front of you, taking in the way you were supporting your arm before he started to undo your ODs and then your wool shirt beneath.

“It’s my shoulder, Doc.”

He nodded as he carefully pulled open the collar to take a look, his fingers skimming along the skin of your shoulder and the strap of your undershirt. As they honed in on the hollow where your joint ought to be, you let out a yelp and nearly keeled over backward at the searing pain, grateful as Nixon pressed a hand to your lower back to keep you upright.

“Yeah it is. It’s out of joint.” Roe confirmed the sneaking suspicion you’d had.

There had been something agonizingly familiar about the whole thing, taking you back to a hot summer day when you were ten years old, riding your father’s new horse despite his explicit instructions to wait for him to be done in the field before you tried to mount it. The horse’s black coat had shone almost purple in the sunlight of the afternoon, warm to the touch as the barely broken-in animal had suffered no more than one lap around the paddock before bucking you from its back.

The force with which you had struck the ground had dislocated your left shoulder that day, and the drive into town to see the doctor had been a torturous thirty minutes during which every jolt and bump had sent pain shooting through your body. But as soon as the doctor had put it back in place, the relief had been almost immediate.

“You can put it back, right?” You asked hoping to avoid transport somewhere like this.

“Yeah, I can.” Doc smiled softly and started digging through his satchel. “Let’s get ya some morphine first, alrigh’?”

“Wait, don’t, I’ll be useless.” You said sharply. “It’s just going to hurt when you put it back in, right?”

Roe looked to you with wide eyes, hands stilling before his expression hardened a little. “It’s gonna hurt like hell when I put it back in.” He clarified firmly and you felt Nixon’s hand twitch against your back.

“And then after that I’ll be fine.” You insisted bravely.

Nixon sighed your name, and you turned your head too fast, barely stifling a cry of pain behind trembling lips.

“Maybe you should just let Doc give you the morphine.” He said gently.

“No.” You replied stubbornly despite the fact that he was a ranking officer, turning your face back to Roe more carefully this time. “Just get it over with, please.”

Roe sighed heavily at you, muttering bitterly in French. You caught a word that sounded an awful lot like ‘mule’, but before you could question him about it, he set one hand on your bicep and the other on your forearm. A noise of pain snuck past your lips unbidden, and you clamped your free hand over your mouth as he shot you a knowing look.

“Yer gonna yowl like a goddamn alley cat, take tha morphine.”

You glared up at him stubbornly until he started to move again, bending your arm at the elbow before slowly pushing your bicep in to press along at your ribs. You let out a sob of agony against your palm, aware that the murmur of conversation downstairs had faded away, but helpless to quell your involuntary reactions to Roe’s manipulations of your limb.

You felt Nixon shift at your side, watched his knee slot between yours before he carefully cupped the back of your head to guide your face to press against his neck. Your hand fell to your lap as you burrowed into the collar of his ODs, cheek pressed against his skin, the fabric of his uniform doing a much better job of muffling the sounds of pain spilling from you. His hand sought yours between your bodies, clasping your forearm, and you gripped his tightly in return as Roe turned your forearm out from your body at a ninety-degree angle before pulling downward on your bicep.

A tremendous wail wrenched from your throat with enough force that you anticipated the taste of blood before an audible ‘clunk’ sounded from your left shoulder, resonating through your torso, as your joint slid home. The tension melted from your body in an instant as the pain left you, replaced by nothing more than a dull discomfort, slumping against Nixon to take a few deep breaths, long enough to note the hint of cedar in his aftershave before you remembered yourself.

You had found Captain Nixon handsome from the first moment you’d laid eyes on him, but as he was a married officer with an English mistress you’d also gone above and beyond to steer clear of that mess. Unfortunately, it had done little to dull your body’s natural response to his presence.

Straightening quickly, you frowned to see you’d left wet patches of tear drops on his collar, releasing his hand as though it burned you to try and brush them off.

“It’ll dry just fine.” He assured you warmly and you swallowed thickly, shuffling back a little to turn to Roe.

“Thanks Doc.” You frowned to see him pulling out a sling.

“Jus’ for a few days, can’t have it slippin’ back out.” Roe muttered and unceremoniously wrapped it under your left elbow before tying it behind your neck. “I’ll let Cap’n Speirs know yer on ligh’ duties, he’ll probably send ya up ta Major Winters as a runnah.”

You let out a sigh of relief as hopefully that meant no aid station, no getting separated from the company and lost in some replacement depot. Looking down you frowned at how open the collars of your shirt and OD jacket were and began trying to reassemble yourself one-handed.

“Here.” Nixon offered softly and carefully buttoned you back up to where you usually wore your uniform before he pushed himself to his feet, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you up as well. “Ok?” He asked and you nodded, trying not to notice the way the warmth of his body seeped through your clothes.

“Thank you, sir.” You said quietly and he nodded warmly in reply.

Grabbing his things, he gestured for you to lead the way out of the room, following close behind. As you reached the main floor, Luz held out your helmet which you took with a nod of thanks, putting it on your head before retrieving your rifle from Liebgott. You could hear Perconte continuing to give O’Keefe shit outside and you frowned deeply, making a beeline for the sound of his voice.

“Hey! I’m fucking fine, knock it off.” You barked tersely before you were beckoned over by Captain Speirs.

The sound of an explosion further up the road had your eyes fluttering open, the ruined village of Thalem dissolving into the sun-drenched back of a transport truck parked on the autobahn in Bavaria just outside the SS resort town of Berchtesgaden that 2nd Battalion was supposed to be taking. You’d been sitting here for at least twenty minutes now, the road blocked by a no-doubt man made rockslide that so far had proven impervious to everything the mortar boys had thrown at it.

Just what had pulled your thoughts back to that afternoon several weeks past you couldn’t say, though it was not the first time you had found your mind wandering there during a lull in activity. In fact, it had become harder and harder to find a time when you were not thinking about Nixon, much to your chagrin. It was not good for your health, even though his impending divorce had become very public knowledge nearly two months ago.

A palpable tension had been born between the two of you that day in Thalem, something you were certain others could sense as you’d spent two weeks at Battalion HQ, running into him more often than ever before. Averted gazes, stiffened postures, cleared throats – neither of you quite knew how to behave around each other anymore when interaction had been so natural and inconsequential before. Something had been changed that day in the café and there was no going back to the way it had been before.

Shifting higher on the wooden bench you noted a couple of the guys in your platoon were dozing in the truck with you but everyone else seemed to have emptied out to watch impatiently as though the pressure of the entire battalion’s eyes might send the rocks cascading the rest of the way down the mountainside. The scuff of jump boots on pavement pulled your attention to the rear of the vehicle and you smiled to see O’Keefe approaching.

“Hey Patty, got tired of watching the blast boys?” You smirked and offered him a hand to pull him up, swallowing at his hesitation. “Come on, I’m fine I told you.” You chided gently.

He took it carefully and allowed you to help him into the truck and that’s when you noticed his helmet tucked under his arm, filled with wildflowers of all sorts of colours. Your breath hitched in your throat as the sight smacked of summertime at home, a dart of nostalgia and longing piercing through the layers of armor you had carefully layered over your heart to make it through this war.

His eyes followed yours and he beamed as he plonked down on the bench beside you. “There’s tons of ‘em just growing alongside the road. I thought you might like some.”

Looking to him softly you took his proffered helmet, setting it in your lap as you looked them all over, picking up a particularly vibrant purple one. “They’re beautiful, thank you.” You murmured distantly, practically transported by something so simple as wildflowers.

“Do you think that one is lavender?”

A snort from the back of the truck announced Liebgott’s return and you glanced over to see him leaning against the grill of the transport parked behind yours.

“Lavender grows in France, not Austria.” Webster corrected O’Keefe, tucking his notebook into his pocket before hopping up to sit on the bench across from the pair of you.

“Isn’t there that song about lavender, though? Lavender’s purple, billy billy?” Perconte squeezed in beside O’Keefe, crowding his personal space.

Ignoring their usual antics, you smiled softly to yourself, hands began to move from muscle memory as plucking the longest stemmed flower you could find before carefully winding the purple flower around it, repeating the process over and over as you started to sing.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly, lavender’s green”

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s the song!” O’Keefe declared brightly.

“Shut the fuck up, meatball.” Perconte hissed through gritted teeth, elbowing him sharply so you would keep singing.

“When I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen Who told you so, dilly dilly, who told you so ‘Twas my own heart, dilly dilly, that told me so”

Unaware that your voice was carrying across the rockface of the mountainside, you were lost in the chain of flowers you were weaving from O’Keefe’s helmet, the verses coming back to you easily after years of singing them to your younger siblings.

“Call up your men, dilly dilly, put them to work Some to the plow, dilly dilly, some to the fork Some to make hay, dilly dilly, some to cut corn While you and I, dilly dilly, keep ourselves warm”

A hush fell over the valley, even the mortar team ceasing their attempts to break through. It was not the first time they’d heard you sing, you knew all the verses to ‘Blood on the Risers’ and happily shouted them along with the rest of the Company, but it was the first time you’d sung in such a feminine way before. You’d found the most expedient way to integrate into Easy was to be one of the boys, yet here you were, reminding each and every one of them that you were a woman.

“Lavender’s green, dilly dilly, lavender’s blue If you love me, dilly dilly, I will love you Let the birds sing, dilly dilly, and the lambs play We shall be safe, dilly dilly, out of harm’s way

I love to dance, dilly dilly, I love to sing When I am queen, dilly dilly, you’ll be my king Who told me so, dilly dilly, who told me so I told myself, dilly dilly, I told me so”

As you finished the song, you curled the chain of blooms into a circle and wove it closed with several stems before turning to place it on O’Keefe’s head, blinking as it slipped down over his eyes. A chorus of harsh laughter at his expense broke out around you and you huffed in annoyance.

“Oh shoot, Patty, I put too many flowers in there, sorry about that. I’ll make you a new one.” You gently pried it off his head, setting the large crown aside before setting to work on a smaller one as the sound of a jeep could be heard coming up the road.

You’d barely put the finishing touches on the smaller crown of flowers when Speirs was ordering everyone to form up into their platoons and O’Keefe had to vanish. Mortifyingly, you found yourself standing on the pavement with both circlets clasped carefully in your hand, somehow loathe to leave them in the transport truck to be trampled but also aware that you couldn’t just carry them with you.

“Captain Nixon can look after those for you, Corporal.” Major Winters voice cut through the din of soldiers tramping back and forth to collect their gear and get ready. You turned to see him grinning at you from where he stood leaning against his jeep.

Nixon, for his part, was staring at you with an unreadable look on his face – Confusion? Bewilderment? Shock? Whatever it was it made you want to duck your head shyly, an impulse which you fought against hard as you hustled over to hold out your handmade treasures.

“Thank you very much sir.” You murmured quietly, swallowing as he hesitated a moment before taking them gingerly, as if they were made of spun glass, while Major Winters watched on with a broad grin. “Sirs.” You saluted and hurried back to your platoon, not wanting to be the cause of any further delay, but still unable to put your finger on just what Nixon’s expression had been.

As it turned out you had quite a bit of time to puzzle it over. After securing the town without incident and cheering on the select few who made it up to the Eagle’s Nest, you ended up on a patrol under Major Winters where he discovered the ruins of Herman Goering’s hunting lodge. Left on guard duty overnight with Patty, you let him ramble on about all the things he wanted to see and do now that the war in Germany was practically over as you quietly tried to decipher the enigma that was Nixon.

Straightening from your lean against the stucco wall as you heard the sound of an engine approaching down the rather rough road, you swallowed painfully to see the man himself, posture quite relaxed as he cradled an open bottle of champagne.

“What is this place?” He asked as he climbed from the vehicle, dressed only in the wool shirt and pants of his uniform.

“Herman Goering’s house, we discovered it yesterday. Had it on double guard ever since.” Major Winters replied.

You nodded in greeting as they walked past you, though Nixon’s sunglasses made it even more impossible to interpret his mood than that last time you’d seen him.

“I can vouch for that, sir.” O’Keefe interjected quickly and you tried not to wince at his endearing awkwardness.

“Oh, anxious to get off duty, O’Keefe?” Winters taunted him.

“No, there’s just so much to see and do, sir.” The boy replied honestly, and you heard Nixon scoff under his breath as Winters unlocked the door.

“Heya meatball.” Nixon grinned in greeting as he followed Winters through the door and down the stairs and that time you really did wince.

O’Keefe looked at you hopefully and you motioned with your head for him follow them, knowing full well his curiosity must be eating him alive. Listening to the wind rustling in the trees, you sighed quietly, soaking in the peace of the moment before Winters made his way back up the stairs with O’Keefe, the boy yanking you into a hug.

“Victory in Europe! The Germans surrendered!” He crowed and you stared at him, stunned speechless for a moment before you hugged him back.

Major Winters chuckled behind him before nodding to you in confirmation, making you realize the bewildered expression that must have been on your face. You pulled back to slap O’Keefe on the shoulder with a grin.

“Gotta go get the others, there is so much booze down there!” He was vibrating with excitement.

Glancing over your shoulder towards the stairs you raised your eyebrows curiously.

“Go take a look, Corporal.” Winters nodded encouragingly before climbing into his jeep with O’Keefe and pulling out.

Hitching your rifle higher on your shoulder you carefully made your way down the stairs, mind still swirling with the news, fingertips buzzing with an odd energy you weren’t quite certain what to do with. As you stepped through the open gate into the expansive wine cellar, stocked from floor to ceiling, your eyes widened, trying to take it all in.

“What’s your favorite drink?” Nixon’s question interrupted your moment of shock, and you looked over to where he stood amid countless bottles of a richly colored red wine.

“Gin.” You replied walking further into the space, sliding your helmet from your head as he made a thoughtful noise in reply before beginning to hunt through row on row of bottles. You unshouldered your rifle to set the butt on the floor, leaning the barrel against a stack of crates before setting your helmet on top of them.

Gnawing on your lip you turned back to admire the intensity with which Nixon approached his task before a small cry of triumph escaped his lips and he pulled a green bottle from the corner, holding it out to you as he approached like the conquering hero. You could not stop the grin that tugged at your lips as you took it from him, looking over the unfamiliar label.

“Genever, from Holland. The precursor to gin. It should do.” He nodded with a self-satisfied smile.

“Thank you, Captain Nixon.” You replied warmly, doubting you’d need a whole bottle to yourself but still appreciating the gesture as you slid it into the jacket pocket of your ODs.

“Can you do me a favor?” He tilted his head.

“Sir?” You stood a little straighter.

“Call me Lewis.” He requested softly, his rich brown eyes seeking yours in the dim light of the cellar.

Swallowing roughly, your heart began to beat a little faster at the intimacy of his request as your mind flitted back to his earlier arrival.

“Only if you’ll do something in return?” You asked slowly.

“What’s that?” He leaned in, the sweetness of champagne still lingering on his breath.

“Can you stop calling O’Keefe ‘meatball’?” You tensed in anticipation of his reaction, your heart plummeting through the concrete floor when he recoiled as if you’d struck him. Guilt bloomed bitterly in your chest, a new crop to go alongside the one you had planted that day in Thalem. “Every time someone says it, I’m reminded of the worst thing I ever said to him.” You rushed to explain your request, cautiously optimistic as his gaze slowly returned to your face. “It…wasn’t his fault he panicked. I never should have spoken to him that way.”

Nixon’s brows furrowed a moment in consideration of your request. “You really care for the kid, don’t you.” He sounded resigned and you found yourself blinking at him stupidly as he made his way back over to continue perusing the shelves.

Slowly, your brain began to process the slump of his shoulders, the forced nonchalance as he examined various labels and added choice bottles to a wooden crate at his feet.

Could he possibly be… No, that seemed utterly improbable… and yet…

All that aside, it seemed as though it could not hurt to clarify your relationship with O’Keefe. “Reminds me of my kid brother, sir.”

Nixon raised his head slowly, turning back to look at you. “Like a brother…” He said thoughtfully and you bobbed your head in agreement. “Well, I suppose I can stop in that case then.” He smirked and you exhaled with a warm smile.

“Thank you very much, sir.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked down his nose at you expectantly.

“Thank you very much, Lewis.” You amended, pressing your lips together as they hummed in pleasure at forming his name.

Lewis’s lips stretched into a lopsided grin as he eyed you warmly for a few moments before turning back to the task at hand, filling the crate and adding it to a growing stack by the entrance before grabbing another one to repeat the process. Shaking your head, you perched a hip onto one of the tables behind you, eyes scanning the room, reflecting on its previous owner, surprised at the sudden tightness in your throat as you remembered the fresh news of the German surrender. Clearly it was going to take some time to sink in, and frequent reminders, but the tears that were threatening to well in your eyes needed to be quashed until you could find a quiet place to unleash them as silently as possible.

Partly out of a desire to simply say his name again, and largely out of a need to distract yourself from the rising tide of your own emotions, you called out to him softly again. “Hey Lewis?”

“Hmmm?” He replied and you found yourself taking far too much pleasure in how quickly he turned back to you.

“I, uh, I was sorry to hear about your dog.” You said meaningfully, that tightness in your throat returning with a vengeance when an unveiled look of fragility overtook his features.

For the first time in nearly a month you were utterly convinced of how Lewis was feeling and more than anything you thought the man was in dire need of a hug. Before your brain even registered you were moving, your feet propelled you across the floor to wrap around arms around him, pulling him close. Almost immediately his arms slid around you tightly in return, one hand clinging to your shoulder as the other pressed some unknown bottle into your lower back, his face burrowing into your neck.

Tightening your embrace, you held him warmly, almost a mirror image of how he had held you in Thalem. You were completely oblivious to the traitorous tears that had snuck down your cheeks until Lewis was pulling back, setting the bottle of liquor aside to cradle your jaw and swipe at them with his thumbs.

“It’s a hell of a dog, but not worth you crying over.” He teased gently and you rolled your eyes, mostly in frustration at yourself, shaking your head as you sniffed.

“Is this…really all over?” You whispered in disbelief, and he pressed his forehead to yours gently as he nodded.

“We shall be safe, dilly dilly, out of harms way.” He uttered and you let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, burying your face into his shoulder as he pulled you tightly against him.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, unable to stop the flood of tears now that they had snuck past your defences, each shake of your frame somehow causing Lewis to hold you tighter as though he might prevent you from crumbling to pieces. The bottle of genever pressed between your bodies almost painfully, digging into your hip, giving you something tangible to focus on as you reined in your shuddering breaths, lifting your head slowly.

“God, I got your uniform all wet again.” You said, voice thick with the aftereffects of your breakdown and he shook his head as you wiped at his collar with your sleeve.

“It’ll dry just fine.” He repeated his assurance from the café with a smirk, and you gave him a watery laugh, wiping at your face roughly.

“Trooper, is that a bottle of Dutch-gin in your pocket or…” He grinned deviously and your jaw dropped before you smacked his shoulder playfully as a peal of laughter escaped your lips.

You shuffled back to put a proper amount of space between your bodies though you noted his one hand remained splayed upon your back. The one that had previously been at nape of your neck dropped to retrieve the bottle from your pocket. “If anyone is in need of a celebratory drink, it’s definitely you.” He murmured gently.

He tilted it towards you, and you reached forward to tug at the red ribbon as he held the bottle steady, breaking the wax seal over the cork. You let the debris fall to the ground before unsealing the cork with a promising ‘pop.’ You scoffed in playful protest as Lewis helped himself to first sip before setting the genever in your outstretched hand. Taking a swig, you blinked at the complexity of it compared to the dry gin you were accustomed to in England or back home. It burned its way down your throat into your empty stomach, igniting a warm glow from within.

A few rogue droplets had been left on your lips, but before you had the chance to swipe your tongue out to collect them, Lewis’s fingertips were tracing along the sensitive flesh. Your breath caught in your throat at the way his eyes were focused on your mouth as he worked at gathering every bit of liquid whilst also tracing the fullness of your lips before lifting his fingertips to suck them clean. Dizzy from lack of oxygen, Lewis’s proximity, and the way his eyes were now boring into yours, you swallowed tightly as his hand pressed tighter to your back, pulling you closer once more. His lips had barely brushed against yours when a host of voices sounded at the top of the staircase.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” He swore against your mouth before you darted back out of his grip, chest heaving as you shoved the cork into the bottle of genever and returned it to your pocket forcefully. You quickly began to look for something to be doing with yourself.

“I’ll start loading these into the jeep, Captain?” You asked, voice tight as a bow string and all he managed in response was a dazed nod as you quickly scooped up one of the crates filled with his choice of bottles, nodding to the newest crop of arrivals on your way up the staircase.

Taking the stairs two at a time, you set the crate into the back of the jeep Winters had left for you and O’Keefe during guard duty, trying to take deep breaths of fresh air to clear your head. Christ that had been close…close to being caught…close to kissing Lewis…You sunk your teeth into your lower lip trying to smother the broad grin at that threaten to unfurl on your features. There were far too many people about now to be grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Fishing your canteen from your webbing, you took a deep sip of water before smoothing your hands over your uniform and, feeling somewhat collected, returned to the cellar to move more crates.

Lewis seemed to have regained control of his senses, not that you dared to look at him, but his directions rang out through the cellar to load most of the wine into the trucks that men has just arrived with for the enjoyment of the officers while you continued carting his personal stash up the stairs until the jeep was full to bursting. All in all, he claimed five truckloads for himself and the officers of 2nd battalion. You rode backwards in the jeep, doing your best to stabilize the crates over the rough track back into town, doing your utmost to ignore his proximity in the vehicle.

A very warm welcome awaited your return to the lavish hotel where the officers were billeted, and many hands made short work of unloading all those trucks so they might make another trip for the rest of the men. By the time you’d made your way to Lewis’s room with the last of his crates, there was barely space to move for all the alcohol stashed within. No more than a small walking path from the door to the bed, if you were being honest.

“This is the last of it, sir.” You said as you looked around for a spot to put it and he looked to you sharply.

“We talked about this…” He teased, shuffling forward to grab it from you, hoisting it over to another corner of the room but you barely heard him as your eyes fell onto the two flower crowns sitting on the window ledge beside the bed.

“You kept them?” You breathed in amazement.

He looked to you before following your gaze and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was told to look after them for you.”

Picking your way across the floor carefully, you knelt on the bed with your boots hanging off the edge behind you, smiling softly to see they were a little dried out but truly no worse for wear. “You did an excellent job of it, Lewis.” You barely whispered his name aware the door was still open.

Setting your rifle on the floor at the foot of the bed, you put your helmet on the ledge before picking up the larger crown, rolling onto your hip and then onto your butt on the mattress in time to see him closing the door. “I’d bet money this fits you.” You smiled softly.

“Save your money, I already know.” He grinned, ducking down beneath the circlet of flowers before straightening with it perched atop his dark hair.

Your eyes widened in delight. “It fits perfectly.” Your fingers gently straightened it, unable to ignore the softness of his chocolate strands at they brushed against your fingers.

Lewis’s gaze flicked to your lips briefly before looking back to your eyes and you took a slow breath before trailing your hands down to frame his face, enjoying the slight scratch of his stubble against your palms. “Lewis…” You exhaled, and he surged forward to seal his lips against yours firmly.

He settled onto his knees before you, hands gripping your waist as you parted your legs and dropped a hand to his back to urge him closer. Needing no further invitation, he scooted forward, pressing against you as his tongue licked its way into your mouth. You weren’t quite sure who started it, but your fingers were a flurry of activity, pulling at the buttons of each others’ uniforms. All he managed to reveal was the wool shirt you wore underneath, your webbing dangling limply from your shoulders, while you found his bare chest. Growing impatient, Lewis tugged your shirt and undershirt free of your pants and ODs until he was able to slide his hand against the soft skin of your abdomen, making your lips fall back from his with a whimper.

“Damn it why are you wearing so many clothes…” He growled and you pressed your face against his hair to smother your laugh, knocking the flower crown askew.

“Some of us were on duty today.” You muttered back, nipping at the shell of his ear before pushing his shirt from his shoulders, letting your hands skate along his back.

Leaning forward, he pushed you back into the mattress, nipping and sucking his way along your jaw before he methodically began to remove your layers of clothing and webbing, starting with a ruthless tugging on your boot laces, until you were left in your army issue brassiere and underwear. To say that they left a lot to be desired in terms of style was an understatement, but the reverence in his gaze as his eyes raked over his hard-won reward soothed your ego somewhat. Plucking the crown from his head, you tossed it gently onto the windowsill before hugging his hips with your knees and rolling him onto his back intent on returning the favour, your dog tags jangling against his in a metallic collision.

As you tried to slide down to reach the laces of his boots, however, he grunted in denial, pulling you in for a hungry kiss as he pulled your pelvis snug against his, making you inhale sharply through your nose at the feel of his hard length against you. “Gotta get your pants off, Lew.” You tried to speak but he kept interrupting you with brushes of his lips or darts of his tongue into your mouth. Huffing slightly, you rocked forward against him firmly, making yourself shudder, but you managed to get his attention as his head fell back, eyes staring up at you half-lidded, jaw slack in a silent moan. “Gonna start with your boots and then I’m gonna get your pants off.”

“And then you’ll do that again…” He breathed and you nodded licking your lips as he released your hips.

You were admittedly not nearly as efficient as him, fingers made clumsy with want, but through persistence you prevailed in removing his boots, pants, and boxers, adding them to the scattered heap of clothing on the small patch of floor. Skimming your hands up his bare legs you revelled in the way he trembled slightly, sitting up to watch you impatiently as you made your way up from the floor. Halting your progress a moment, you ducked your head to lick a warm, wet stripe along the needy length of his cock where it stood proud against his lower abdomen, drawing a shaky cry of your name from his lips that convinced you to linger between his thighs a little longer.

Wrapping your fingers around him, you swirled your tongue around the tip before slowly sliding his length into your mouth, watching his cheeks flush and eyes flutter close as he wrenched at the bedding violently.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart…” He panted, his abdominal muscles flexing erratically.

Smile curling around him, you dragged your lips up his length only to sink your mouth back down onto him, covering the last bit you couldn’t manage with your fist, allowing your saliva to run freely.

“Christ you’re good at that.” There was the edge of a whine to his voice and suddenly he was pulling your mouth from him, chest heaving. “Keep that up and this’ll be over before it begins…” He muttered and sat up, gripping your hips to guide you onto the bed properly.

His lips latched onto nipple through the thin cotton of your bra before you opened your mouth to apologize, making your hips buck up against his stomach greedily as your fingers delved into his hair. Pulling the cup down he laved his tongue along the sensitive peak, before shifting his attentions to its partner, your soft sighs of pleasure filling the room. Sliding his hands to your back, he guided you up to sit before making quick work of the hook and eye closure between your shoulder blades, tossing your bra aside onto a crate of liquor before pressing you back down into the mattress with a kiss to your sternum, just above where your dog tags rested against your bare skin.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them over your hips and down your legs before they too were unceremoniously tossed aside. “Goddamn sweetheart you are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He murmured, pressing his lips against the inside of your knee before he hooked it over his shoulder as he came to rest on his stomach between your legs.

“Lew I…” You started to protest, embarrassed about the fact that you hadn’t seen a shower in a few days, but the words died on your lips as his fingers ran through your slick folds.

“You’re so wet, did I make you this wet?” He murmured in awe, and you nodded slowly, his answering grin almost blinding in its intensity. “Well, best not let it go to waste.” Lewis winked before sealing his mouth over your core, sucking the very breath from your lungs as his tongue delved hungrily to find your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Throwing your arm over your mouth, you smothered a harsh curse of delight into the crook of your elbow as he slung his forearm across your hips to pin them down so he might better intensify the level of pleasure he was dealing you as his tongue plunged into your heat. His nose took over the stimulation of your clit, while the stubble on his cheeks and jaw made your inner thighs tremble. The sounds he was making between your legs were positively lewd and only heightened the swirling headiness that wrapped around you. You clung to his hair as he began to suck on your clit, making you see stars behind your clenched eyelids, every exhale an eager moan or keen smothered against your skin.

Lewis’s hand slid up along your side to cup your breast, his fingers shifting to pinch and roll at your nipple, vaulting you over the edge as you rambled his name over and over. The tension of ecstasy slowly ebbed from your body, and he lifted his head with a broad grin, swiping at his upper lip with his thumb before sucking it clean. “Someday I’m gonna do that somewhere so remote you can scream at the top of your lungs.” He nuzzled your hair, pressing his lips to your ear as you laughed breathlessly.

“You sound so certain…” You teased, but he merely raised an eyebrow in response, his palm cupping your still-sensitive core, making your eyes roll back in your head.

“I am, yes. Certain that I can make you cum with my hands, my mouth, my cock. Certain that I’d like the opportunity to do so again and again…” You forced your eyes open to look over his features slowly.

“Yeah?” You exhaled, not quite sure what you had been expecting when you fell into bed with him, just knowing it was what you had wanted above all else in that moment.

“Yeah, sweetheart, until you’re sick of me.” He kissed you gently, the salty tang of your release still on his lips.

Gripping the back of his head, you returned the kiss hungrily, shifting your hips to rock up against his length, swallowing his ragged moan as you finally fulfilled your promise to repeat that motion. “Show me.” You whispered, aching to feel him inside you.

Lewis exhaled hotly against your lips before shifting his hips back, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance before he rocked forward to slowly sink into you. He sealed his mouth over yours almost painfully as you whimpered hungrily, his own rumble of pleasure reverberating through your chest. His head fell to rest against your collarbone, his breath caressing your skin once he was fully seated inside you, unmoving.

“Lew…” You whimpered softly, digging your fingers into his shoulders, writhing against him slightly.

“I know, sweetheart just…fuck you’ll be my undoing…” He whispered before he kissed you fiercely, pulling his hips back only to thrust forward once more, earning a moan of delight from you.

Your bodies began the push and pull of carnal pleasure, moving in tandem as though this were your hundredth coupling rather than your first. Grasping your knee, Lewis hiked it high on his hip, angling his thrusts deeper into your willing body, making you toss your head to the side as you clenched your jaw against the desire to wail in delight.

“Wish I could…hear you so fucking badly…” He grit out before grasping your chin and turning your face back so he could press his mouth to yours as he rut against you firmly, his pubic bone grinding against your clit deliciously.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, the vicious undertow nearly obliterating your ability to think as Lewis quickly pulled out from your convulsing warmth to release on across your abdomen with an agonized groan that was admittedly less than concealed before he collapsed onto the bed at your side. The pair of you lay there, speechless, covered in a sheen of sweat, chests heaving with frantic breaths before he shifted to feather soft kisses along the side of your face, reaching for a weathered scrap of green cloth that served as an army handkerchief to wipe your skin clean.

The ferocious growl your stomach emitted in the relative silence of the room had you tense as Lewis cracked up. “Sweetheart when was the last time you ate?”

“Oh, Christ I don’t know…” You muttered, covering your face with both hands in mortification.

Laughing richly, he kissed your knuckles before forcing himself up. “Alright, ok. Food. I’m going to find you some food. And then I’m going to spend the rest of this night right here in this bed with you, so don’t you go anywhere.” He looked down at you with playful seriousness as he stepped into the pants of your ODs, ruining the effect. “Shit.” He muttered.

Giggling into your palm, you shook your head before sighing as you pulled the blankets over your bare skin, feeling the chill of the mountain air now that he’d taken his body heat away from you. “Hey Lew?”

He looked to you quickly, nearly dressed – in his own clothes this time. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I’ll be here.” You smiled warmly, the stretch of your lips only widened by the grin of glee he directed at you before climbing back into bed to kiss you warmly. Your poor, empty digestive system growled insistently, and he huffed against your lips.

“Alright, fine…I’ll be back with food.” Lewis kissed your cheek before sliding into his jump boots and stepping out with his laces untied in search of sustenance for you both, fully intent on not making another public appearance until the next morning.

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Band of Brothers Masterlist

Tag list: @fuckoffthanos