rogue-barnes-16 - Tumblr blog

rogue-barnes-16 · 1 year

Text

SUNGLASSES AND LIPSTICK STAINS (part III/III)

Summary: after having his heart torn in half at Tina's party, Steve finds comfort in the most unexpected person. Who would have guessed he would develop such a strong connection with someone he's barely spoken to?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Genre: mostly fluff (hurt/comfort)

Tags:

Sunglasses And Lipstick Stains: @shycupcakealissa @dessmxsworld @liberhoe @damon-loves-pie @littleagxs

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

Warnings: language, mild violence

A/N: long awaited and, after deleting tons of angst, finally here. This is not a chapter, this is a bunch of chaotic scenes under a trench coat pretending to be a chapter. Bear with me and enjoy <3

Part I

Part II

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

An unknown ruckus that did nothing for my throbbing head had woken me up, yet I was not expecting to stumble into whatever was going on at the Henderson's.

Most of the kids ran around attempting to tidy up their sleeping place, although Jonathan was clearly doing the actual job. Mike yelled through the phone, presumably at his mother, periodically being shushed by Hopper, whose back faced the group of middle schoolers and the tired junior ushering them.

That was probably the oddest part of the scene, because Hopper seemed to be confiding information to Y/n from across the kitchen counter —the overwhelming kind, given how she massaged her temples with closed eyelids.

"—And back to the police station." He finished explaining, tapping his palm on the marble surface before turning around. "Good, he's awake. Hopper pushed himself off the kitchen counter and wiggled his car keys at me. "You got five minutes. Grab your things."

"Where are we-" Hopper was out of the house before I could finish the sentence. "what's going on?" I flinched at the loudness of the kids as I made my way to the kitchen.

"I asked him to take you to the hospital." Y/n intervened. She had straightened up as soon as Hopper noticed I was out of bed, and was now handing me a glass of water along with Tylenol. "how's the head?"

I chose to ignore her question and formulated one of my own instead. "What d'you mean 'to the hospital'? You patched me up."

"I did but— bye guys!" She waved at both Byers and the four kids trailing after him. "You need an actual doctor to check it out."

"Y/n, I can't— you don't understand—"

"Chief told me everything." The girl took a step closer and maneuvered my chin ever so carefully to check my broken nose. "Or at least everything I could beat out of him."

I breathed out a surprised chuckle. "You're something else."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She countered with a small tired smile. Now that I had a moment to study her upclose, I wondered if she had slept at all that night. "we gotta go." She whispered.

"You too?"

"It's Monday, Steve." Monday. Jesus, I completely forgot about school. A groan escaped my lungs while the girl jogged to her bedroom. "I'll tell Ms. O'Donnell you're sick!" She shouted while I finally chugged the Tylenol. "C'mon." Y/n was back in a flash. She tossed me my jacket and motioned at the already open front door for me to walk over.

A furrow formed between my brows when, instead of joining me, Y/n rummaged through the cushions. "What are you doing?"

"Jonathan brought... Ah! This." The girl skipped to her home's entrance, bag dangling on her shoulder by a strap, and handed me my sunglasses. "You'll need them."

Sweet. I would have never thought I'd use that word to describe Y/n Henderson, but to be fair, I'd never thought she would look at me so tenderly.

The next thing I knew, I was planting a kiss on her temple, her hand secured in mine. It had come as such a natural occurence that I hadn't given it a second thought.

There was a pink tinge on her cheeks when I pulled away. "What's that for?"

"For taking care of me." It was an excuse. Something about the way she tilted her head to the side told me she knew that.

November 9, 1984

READER'S P. O. V.

"What happened to you, Stevie boy?!"

The obnoxious voice could be easily identified way before he made an appearance. Most people walking from class to class on my locker's corridor did. That's why Tommy Hagan was able to strut freely through the racket of students at Steve's tail, whose head hung low.

"Did you fall face first?" His taunts grew louder the closer they were to my locker. "From king to punching bag!"

"Piss off, Tommy. I'm not in the mood." Now that was barely audible. In fact, I wouldn't have caught it if it wasn't because Steve was walking right by my back when he spoke.

"Aw, he's not in the mood." Hagan mocked him.

During the previous weekdays, I had found myself growing closer to the former King of Hawkins High, now reduced to an exhausted teen walking the halls alone. One would say I even turned somewhat protective of him; that's why I didn't think through my actions until Tommy was on the floor, his palms catching him just in time to avoid a broken nose.

It took Billy and Carol a hot minute to process that I, who now faced them instead of the row of lockers, was the reason why the remaining member of their trifecta had tripped mid sentence.

There was a brief halt in everyone's motions. The shock in the sudden silence among us shifted to anticipation as soon as Tommy himself caught on what had happened, "Did you just fucking trip me?"

"Nope," I popped the 'p', feigned cluelessness dripping from my tongue and making Tommy's blood boil. "I think you just fell face first, Hagan."

It took all my willpower not to flinch when Hagan's freckled face was shoved to mine close enough for our noses to touch.

"The fuck did you just say?"

I barely registered a yelled, warning 'Hey!' from somewhere on my left flank that sounded like Steve.

However, it was —to my surprise— Billy Hargrove's hand the one immediately enclosed around Tommy's bicep, yanking him back with an iron grip.

"She's not worth it." There was a tinge of fear in his uncanny irises, flooded with both hatred and frustration when he gave me an up-and-down that felt closer to a spit. "C'mon."

It took them making a left at the end of the hall for me to release the strained breath I didn't know I was holding.

My irises locked with Steve's warm ones as soon as I turned my head to the left. The boy stood at a safe distance, balancing his weight from one leg to another with hesitance.

He opened his mouth, yet words either got caught up in his throat or dissolved into nothingness. His eyes darted behind him for a second, and soon returned back to me with intent.

I watched the boy's moves with a frown as he spun and slowly took the few steps separating him from the bathroom.

One last tentative glance from the door was all I needed to follow his lead, mindful of the eyes around us that luckily had already returned to their respective business.

"Harrington?" My pitch was careful, since I was unsure of whether or not we were all by ourselves.

"Here." Was the only response I obtained —it reverberated from afar in the seemingly empty bathroom.

My boots clicked on the tiles as I dove further into the fluorescent lit room. I clutched my books against my chest in anticipation when I caught a glimpse of Steve's figure in the sinks's mirrors at the very far end of the restroom.

My steps stopped right at the corner and knocked on the last stall's poorly hinged door before resting my shoulder against it.

"Hey." He whispered, hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned back on the wall in front of me.

"Hey." I echoed with a tight-lipped smile. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just—" His visage was quickly casted down to avoid eye contact, making his hair bob as he looked for the right words. "Thanks. Don't do that again though, 'cause if you think Tommy won't hit a girl—"

"I'm very aware of what was about to happen." I cut him off, re-accommodating my books to rest on my hip so I could gesture at the bathroom's entrance with my thumb. "It'd trip Hagan anyday."

"Why?"

"He's an asshole."

"And I'm not?"

"You want me to trip you too?"

There was a moment of silence in which a spark of mischief crossed Steve's eyes. It was swiftly followed by a snort he could barely hold back.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," his fingers carded the few rogue strands falling on his eyes, an amused smile lingering on his gaze. "I just thought of the corniest pick-up line."

"Oh God."

"Now I really need to say it."

"No, you don't."

"If you were to trip me, I could say I..." Steve intently wiggled his brows at me. "fell for you."

I stared blankly at him for an instant, trying not to laugh and accidentally spur him on. "That's just tragic." I feigned a disappointed sigh. "Just when I thought I liked you."

Silence. Ominous silence that carried the blood to my cheeks when I realized what I had just said.

It's okay, I told myself after briefly meeting Steve's mildly widened eyes, it doesn't have to mean I like like him.

"Y/n?"

"Hmm?"

"This is..." The senior pushed himself off the tiled wall, one of his hands finding comfort in his hair once again. I would have never pinned Steve Harrington as a fidgety guy, but he was full of surprises. "Do you wanna come over after school?"

"...What?"

"We could watch a movie." He explained further, blatantly ignoring the shock tensing every muscle of my body.

"I... like- like a uhh" I shifted on the spot, tightening the grip on my books in a vain attempt to ground myself when Steve walked closer. "like a hangout? or like-?"

"I'm asking you out, Y/n." Steve seemed to ponder his thoughts for a second before plainly saying, "I like you."

My whole body refused to respond, and I was frozen in place, left to see Steve's confidence slowly crumble.

"Am I— did I read this wrong?"

The bell ringing was a life saver. I for one did not hesitate to jolt straight to the door with an apologetic smile that was closer to a grimace.

I couldn't get far before five slender digits were gently wrapped around my wrist. "If I did, can we ignore that last thing I said? Honestly, I could use a friend right now and you're—"

"You didn't... read it wrong." My quiet words, strained with pride, eased the situation instantly. "At your place at 7?"

"Yeah, that's good." He exhaled, thumb rubbing a couple of reassuring circles on the back of my hand before dropping to his side. "I'll see you later then?"

"M-hm." I gave him a quick nod and, after debating on whether or not I should do something stupid, I leaped forward and planted a kiss on his cheekbone.

I had no way of knowing he would trap my lips with his the moment they lifted from his skin. I didn't oppose either.

For the next weeks, that was it for us. We unraveled ourselves in lazy make out sessions, secret bathroom talks, and indoors dates.

It was easier like that, when it was just us who knew —even if it meant sneaking kisses when he dropped Dustin home and pretending not to know to each other while we were in class.

Yeah, it was easier to pretend to be a couple when no one else had to know about it, but December came and we weren't pretending anymore.

December 15, 1984

STEVE'S P. O. V.

"Now you're gonna go in there,"

"Yeah,"

"Look like a million bucks!"

"Yeah!"

"And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead."

"Like a lion." I had to fight the urge to cringe at Dustin's purr.

"Don't do that, okay?" I begged instead, earning a tiny, chastised 'okay' from the kid.

An encouraging nod and a handclasp later, the boy was climbing out of the car with his chest puffed and his chin high.

Turns out middle schoolers weren't the headache Nancy made it out to be. It was actually quite a refreshing change to have them around. Throughout both November and December, I had grown to know how nice it would have been to have a younger sibling around.

Maybe I would have felt less alone all the time.

The amused smile that had twisted up the corner of my lips at the sight of Dustin proudly adjusted his blazer whilst talking to a teacher gradually faded away at the depressing thoughts which began to cloud my mind.

My shoulders slumped slightly at that dark feeling that had been looming over me more often than not during the year; that terrifying loneliness I rarely seemed to get rid of.

The school's ajar door being pushed open not only pulled me out of my own head, but also slowly returned the grin to my face.

It was Y/n the one exiting the building. Her joyful laugh echoed in the nearly empty parking lot, just temporarily filled by passing cars dropping the kids off at the Snow Ball.

Her confident stroll slowed down at the sight of my car, but her face's brightness didn't falter.

"Harrington."

Her tone was of surprise as she resumed her walk, even though I was positive Dustin had mentioned I would be driving him to the ball.

"Henderson." I reciprocated the greeting, trying not to seem too eager to be near her when I ripped more than unplucked the key from the ignition and stepped out of the vehicle.

It had become exponentially more complicated— to be distant, to try and make it look like we were mere acquaintances. In all honesty, I didn't even know why we kept the lie up anymore.

"I see my brother took your awful hair advice." She teased with a coy grin, her forearms resting atop the roof of my car. She searched and found a faux vexed reaction from me.

"Uhm, excuse me." I huffed, circling the obstacle between us at a watchful slow pace. "'Awful hair advice'? I think you mean awesome." My heart skipped a beat when the girl gnawed her lower lip to bite back a laugh —a mindless habit of hers that never failed to suck the air out of my lungs. "Have you seen this?" I questioned, motioning at my hair.

"Yeah I've seen the bird nest." She taunted me, turning to face me when I reached her side.

"You're really fucking mean."

"Hmm... I thought I was the sweetest person you'd met?" She jokingly inquired, rocking forward on her tippy toes. "Your words, not mine."

A single breathy laugh left my lungs, chin falling so I could stare at my shoes, which had turned to be an engrossing sight every time Y/n did that.

"I didn't know you were chaperoning." I chose to comment once I had collected myself enough to meet her gaze.

"I'm not." She corrected, bracing herself when a particularly cold beat of wind hit us. "The teachers needed a hand with the decorations. You think I'd come to a Ball dressed like this?"

"I think you could wear Mrs. Click's clothes and still knock the air out of any guy's lungs."

Whatever Y/n was going to respond died in the back of her throat. I was about to audibly take pride on leaving her speechless when her fist playfully knocked my arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"Stop teaching my brother dumb pick-up lines!" Her index finger pointed accusative at my form.

"He uses them?"

"UHHH YEAH." Y/n giggled to herself, spinning to rest her back against my BMW's side. "He sounds so fucking ridiculous, practicing them in the mirror and shit."

"Hey, don't laugh at him!" I barely had enough restraint to not snicker at the anecdote while I moved to stand in front of the girl. "You're such a bad sister."

"And you're such a bad influence!" She countered, letting her melodic laugh gradually die down, leaving no trace but a beautiful beam gracing her gaze, slightly pinked by December's low temperatures. "What are you doing to my brother, Harrington?"

"I'm just helping him be cool, y'know?" I shrugged, trying to seem as suave as I could about being inches away from Y/n's body. "Giving him a pinch of King Steve's advice."

"I'll shove King Steve's advice up your ass."

"You're just jealous."

"Maybe I am a little jealous." She gave me a nonchalant shrug.

"Wait, really?"

"You can't blame me." Her digits tugged on her sleeves, probably to preserve the little warmth left in her palms. "It's always 'Steve this', 'Steve that'..." She swinged her head from one side to another, empathizing her words and simultaneously making it all more hilarious. "One day you're a jerk and the next you're this awesome dude he adores."

"Some things run in the family, don't they?" I teased, taking her cold hands in mine to bring them up and blow hot air in them.

"I never said you were awesome." Her voice turned into a whisper, y/e/c eyes searching for my thoughts in mines.

"I know you think I'm awesome." Y/n scoffed at my cocky quip. "And I know you secretly adore me."

"Ha."

"Ha." I mocked her, bringing her palms to rest on my chest so I could slide mines down to her waist. "You're not denying it."

"You're annoying." It was more an exhale than a sentence. "So annoying. You have no idea."

"Then you adore annoying."

I felt a chill running down my spine when her icy fingertips creeped all the way up to my nape hair to toy with it.

"I think I'm gonna kiss you." I muttered, bumping my nose with hers.

Y/n pulled away ever so slightly, yet enough to make me chase her frame, even with her hands still around me. "Here?"

"Yeah." I tried to act nonchalant for both of our sakes. It would have never occurred to me that I would be anxious about getting caught kissing a girl. "That okay?"

After a second of hesitation and a short lived nod, a beam lit up Y/n's gaze as she brought me into an innocent kiss that soon deepened.

There was something intoxicating about her, something that stuck with me back in October at Tina's Party and had yet to let me go.

Maybe it wasn't something about her, maybe it was her —the way she carried herself, the cleverness in her words and how her hands held me. It was definitely her, and I couldn't get enough.

That's why when Y/n, whose senses were sharper, abruptly pulled away with a gasp, my immediate reaction was to whine.

And then I heard that little shit's voice.

"Y/n?" The wide-eyed girl pushed me aside to make direct eye contact with Mike. "Oh my God."

"Mike." one of my hands remained on Y/n's waist while she raised her menacing index finger at the younger Wheeler. "Don't you dare."

The kid stared at Y/n, then stared at me, and then ran back inside. A faint 'Dustin' made it out of the building before the door got shut.

Soon enough, Y/n was attempting to chase Mike, although I was quick enough to bring her back to our previous spot before she could cross the entrance.

"That little bitch is gonna tell everyone!" She complained, trying and failing to walk past me.

"Then let him, who cares?"

"Uhhh you?"

"Says who?"

Her mind seemed to malfunction for a second, not quite processing my words. "What do you mean?"

"why would I mind people knowing we're dating?"

"THERE'S A MILLION REASONS!"

"Name three." I requested, raising three fingers between us.

"Okay— Nancy."

"I have my life and she has hers." I countered. "Plus, I didn't see her holding back with Jonathan right after we broke up."

"Status."

"Dustin said I gotta grow out of that bullshit and he's right."

"I—" a judging frown twisted her expression. "are you taking advice from a middle schooler?"

"he's pretty smart." I defended myself, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Third?"

"I don't know."

"You said there was a million reasons."

"Shut up." She leaned back against the car with a scowl substituting what had been a joyful smile just a couple of minutes ago.

"Are you embarrassed?" I questioned, tugging on the hem of her jumper.

"Steve, we went through this a million times." She sighed, catching my fingers with hers. "I'm not, I just don't wanna—"

"Undermine my reputation blah blah blah. Fuck that." I pecked the tip of her nose, unleashing a new wave of amusement trying to fight its way through the stress. "Let's go out."

"We go out every Friday."

"No, like, out out? To the movies or something." I couldn't tell if the pink on her cheeks was due to the biting cold or my proposal. "That dipshit's gonna spread the word like wildfire anyway."

She considered for an instant, but we both knew which answer she wanted to give me.

"You sure?" She said instead, making me push out a lighthearted scoff.

"Do I look unsure to you?" Before she could speak, I stole a quick, tender kiss from her. "Next Friday. I'll pick you up at 7."

"Jeez I didn't even say yes."

"Oh were you gonna reject me?" I teased with raised brows.

"Fuck you, Harrington." She spat without an ounce of malice in her tone, trapping her lower lip between her teeth. God, I was a goner.

"I'll hold you to that." She huffed at my wink and my smug smile, and I knew she was as much of a goner as myself. "C'mon," I stepped aside to open the passenger door. "Let's get you home before any of those little shits decide to believe Wheeler." Just when I thought Y/n would, for the first time, not complain about me driving her anywhere, she stopped between me and the now accessible passenger's seat. "Jesus, don't start—"

"Did you have dinner yet?"

Well, that was not what I was expecting. "...No?"

"Wanna go to that new diner downtown?" Blink. Another blink. Was she asking me out? "It's on me."

"I... Okay. Yeah! Yeah, cool."

"Cool." She echoed, the corner of her lips twitching up with amusement. "C'mon then."

"Shit, yeah." I left her side to circle the BMW and, when I climbed in, I found her already belted and ready.

"It's a date, by the way." She clarified, tugging on the sleeves of her jacket once more.

"Yeah I got that, dumbass." I whispered back whilst starting the car.

I didn't even attempt to hold the genuine grin that only she seemed to be able to pull out of me these days when her fingers found my free hand to tangle with my own.

#self reblog #steve harrington #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x plus sized reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve x henderson!reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #sunglasses and lipstick stains

208 notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

The fact that on November 10th 4 years will have passed since I started writing this has me shaking

HEAL ME MASTERLIST

Summary: she was a nurse. He was a soldier. They fell in love at first sight. It was beautiful, true love. But something isn’t beautiful because it lasts.

Playlist for the series by the lovely @spiderdahlia

Chapter I: who’s taking you home tonight?

Chapter II: Bless ‘em all

Chapter III: As time goes by

Chapter IV: Those were the days

Chapter V: You’d be so nice to come home to

Chapter VI: It had to be you

Chapter VII: Yours

Chapter VIII: he wears a pair of silver wings

Chapter IX: You’ll never know

Chapter X: I’ll be seeing you

Epilogue: We’ll meet again

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_

MAIN MASTERLIST

—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

Heal me:

@just-add-butter @mannls @bethanyzed @fandom-addict-aesthetics @kitttysblog @roxytheimmortal @futuremrspeterparkerholland @i-am-a-fandom-slut @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @chook007 @avengersassemblee @littlephoenix-fire @androgynouswolfcookiemug @babyplutoszx2 @calspalkira @unnecessarydelivery @-lilacnialler- @silver-winter-wolf @smolandrare-coffee-bean

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

#I've been officially writing fanfiction for 5 years now #what on earth #chaotic cupid.txt #marvel fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

FRIDAY NIGHT

Request: Hi I don't know if you already have something like this, but could you write something about - You and Eddie smoking weed with each other and it's your first time doing that and he just guides you through it while making sure you're okay.

Summary: After catching Eddie hanging out in their house, Dustin's sister has the choice to tell their mother —who didn't allow Eddie at home—, or get something out of it. Let's just say, 'Henderson' and 'snitch' didn't go well together.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Requested by: anon

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

Warnings: use of weed, language

A/N: never in my life would i have guessed I'd be writing anything where the main characters smoke weed for shits and giggles, but this was so fun that I'm thinking about writing a sequel to it. Also, this is LOOOONG. Enjoy this and thank anon for the fun request <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"You got this, big boy."

"Do I?" I grunted, planting my left foot on the garbage container to propel myself. Y/n had made the stunt look so easy, but it was my third attempt and I was still on her yard. "I should've sold you the damn weed."

"You should've." She agreed with a chuckle, bitting her lower lip to stop the teasing.

It would have never crossed my mind that my Friday night activity would be to sneak into the Hendersons' ranch style home through Y/n's awning window, but there I was.

And that wasn't even the weirdest thing.

Two Hours Earlier

"Okay, bad news." Dustin announced from the kitchen, head buried in the fridge while I lounged in his couch, legs sprawled on the cushions.

"No beer?" I guessed, my attention put in some action figures the freshman had sitting around.

He shook his head no with disproportionate grief. "I got... Yoohoo?"

"Fuck yeah, I love Yohoo." I jumped up from the couch and waltzed to the adjacent room where Dustin was pulling out a couple of chocolate drinks. "So—"

"DUSTIN?! IS MY SKETCHBOOK THERE?!"

The younger boy and I froze, our bodies tensing up; the terror in his wide eyes rivaled with mine.

"I thought you said there was no one home?!"

"DUUUSTINN?!"

"She's supposed to be out!" Dustin hissed back at my whisper-yelling through gritted teeth. "I'm so dead."

I rushed back to the living room, basically throwing myself over the coffee table to get my metal lunchbox and my van's keys.

I had been banned from the Hendersons' house by Dustin's lovely mother at the beginning of the school year. It was somewhat understandable; if a scary looking senior had driven my son back home late at night, nearly mowing down my mailbox, I also would have been pissed.

So, had I known there was a remote chance of us not being alone, I would have declined Dustin invitation to hang out at his place after bringing him back after the campaign.

"Gogogogogo!" The kid hastened me, his hands pushing my back, as if I wasn't already half sprinting to the door.

"Y'know, when someone calls your name—" We all came to an abrupt halt at the hall; Dustin, me... and Y/n. "What. The fuck." I took a step back in fear, even though she limited our interaction to giving me a mildly bemused look.

"Why are you home?!" The younger sibling attempted to divert the attention from me, stepping further into the hall that, I supposed, led to his sister's room. "You're supposed to be at Stacy's or something!"

"Why am I home? Why's he home?" She inquired, eyes wide and hand motioning at my form. "You know the rules. Mom's gonna kill you."

"I was just dropping him home." I prevaricated, my hands raised in surrender.

"Oh God, please." She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "You've been here for at least an hour, I heard the door."

"Oh c'mon, Y/n!" Dustin groaned. "Can't you be a cool sister for once?" The girl's mouth gaped in vexation, but the curly-haired kid opted for another approach before she could chastise him. "Listen, look at him— look at that face. You think that's the face of someone who should be banished from our house?" Y/n looked over Dustin's shoulder to examine my face, her head tilted to the side, arms folded and lips pursed. "Look at those big brown eyes, Y/n."

Half to help out Dustin and half to make a joke out of it, batted my lashes at her, chin casted low and arms behind my back.

Y/n's brow quirked at me, eyes darting at the metallic lunchbox with a shrewd look that screamed 'I know what that is', which triggered an anxious, almost sheepish giggle on my part.

I shared a few classes with Dustin's sister. We were far from friends, but I had talked to her enough times to know that she not only didn't despise me, but was also a decent person.

She was, however, quite scary too, and having her staring down at me wasn't helping the situation.

"Please, Y/n," Dustin begged. "He was about to leave."

She evaluated us both with squinted eyes, pondering her words, "what do I get out of it?"

Dustin eased at her sister's question, which allowed me to release some anxiety of my own. "What do you want?"

"I need a ride." Despite being her brother the one she was negotiating with, her gaze was fixed on me, her eyes holding ulterior motives.

"A rid—" Dustin scoffed, peeking at me. "A ride? From him?" He pointed his thumb at me over his shoulder.

"No, Dustin, from you." She retorted. "Since you clearly have a license and a car now."

"Ha ha. So funny." Y/n exhaled with the ghost of a confident grin at the younger Henderson's bitter tone. "Eddie's not driving you anywhere."

"Where to?" I jumped in, shocking Dustin but not so much Y/n. A spark of pride did cross her face, though.

"I'll guide you." I gave her a nod in agreement. "Gimme a second."

As Y/n disappeared into what I guessed was her room, Dustin stalked in my direction. "Don't."

"'Don't' what? I'm doing you a favor here, man." I spun the van's keychain in my index finger. "Taking one for the team so you don't get grounded."

"Ha! 'one for the team'. Sure." he narrowed his eyes at me. "I bet you're gonna suffer by giving Y/n a lift."

I gave my head a nonchalant shake, a mischievous half smile tugging on the corner of my lips. "I dunno what's that supposed to mean."

Dustin's menacing index finger raised to my face. "She's off limits."

Before I could wisecrack anything, Y/n was out of her room, jacket on, strolling to the front door. "Don't cry, Dustybun, he can come back any other day, these lips" she pointed at her mouth, rotating to stare at her baffled brother. "are sealed. C'mon!" Y/n gave my hand a tug and, soon enough, we were out of the house and in the van.

It took Y/n five minutes in the road to tense up. At first, she didn't comment on it, choosing to focus on the music playing. Then, I hit a curb.

"Do you even have a license?" She inquired after clearing her throat. "Turn left here."

"Are you implying I can't drive?" I obeyed, turning my face to her with a frown.

"I don't need to imply it." She retorted, knuckles white from gripping the grab handle too tight. "Show me your license."

"Can't you take my word for it?" Though her eyes were shut, I knew very well she could hear the amused smile twisting up my lips.

"No."

"Alright." With a dramatic sigh, I let go of the wheel with one hand, leaning to the passenger seat's side to reach for my license; I wouldn't confirm nor deny, that I momentarily forgot I was the one driving.

Y/n's yelp, along with the van briefly sinking into some kind of pothole, brought me back to reality.

"Woah! Okay my bad." I sat back upright with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting at a livid Y/n. "You're such a scaredy-cat."

"Erase that grin from your face, Munson!" She demanded, making me gnaw on my lower lip in order to comply. "You're gonna get me killed!"

"You literally asked for this." I quipped with a laugh, slowing down the van for the sake of Y/n's heart. "Straight ahead or to the right?" I consulted her, seeing the crossroads ahead of us.

"Your choice." Exhaling as if she had just ran a marathon, she eased up in the passenger seat. "I just wanted a ride."

"What?" I did a double take on the girl, processing her words. "I'm just aimlessly driving you around?"

"Yup." She responded, popping the 'p'.

"Couldn't you, I dunno, go for a walk?"

"At night? in Hawkins?" She raised her brows at me with a snort. "Hell no. Plus," She spared me a glance. "if I can get myself a night ride, I will."

"You're so damn weird."

"You're one to talk." She laughed, making me smile in the process. "I wouldn't have snitched, by the way." Y/n confessed. "I just wanted to give Dustin a hard time."

"Oh so you're actually 'a cool sister'." I teased, recalling her younger sibling's words.

"Not as cool as you or Harrington, but I try."

"I'm cool?" I scoffed in surprised, my attention as fixed on the road as it would ever be.

"Dustin says so." My head spun to her once more; her elbow supported by the window, temple resting on her palm. "I kinda agree— Eddie!" Her hand shot to reach for the steering wheel, giving it a swift turn. "Eyes on the road!"

"Y/n, calm down." I urged her with a laugh, correcting the van's direction whilst mentally scolding myself for scaring the girl. "I've never had an accident, and first one isn't gonna be with you here, 'kay?"

She muttered something I couldn't quite catch under her breath, giving her head a slight shake. This was followed by a short silence I was about to break, but Y/n was faster.

"Since when have you been selling?" She inquired with apparent innocence, quickly following her question with, "If it's not too personal— I don't wanna overstep any boundaries."

"No, it's fine." I side eyed her, my attention still on the road, even when my whole body begged me to turn to look at her. "Three years now. Why?"

"Just curious." Oh, that was a lie. She pondered for a second before asking yet another question. "Do you just sell it, or do you...?"

"Both." Silence. And another question.

"How is it?" I responded with a confused 'huh', to which she clarified, "Smoking weed. How is it? Like," her position shifted in a way that her whole upper body was now turned to me. "is it fun?"

"I mean, kinda" I shrugged, noticing how her voice carried that ulterior motive once more. "It's more, like, relaxing y'know?"

A shared, expecting look was what it took for her to spill the beans.

"What are your prices?" Shocked to my core, I pumped the breaks almost instinctively, making her form dangerously jolt forward. "Jesus Christ, Eddie!" Her right hand clutched the collar of her sweater in terror. "Wanna kill me?!"

I disregarded her last two sentences, still stuck on her previous question. "You wanna buy weed?" My tone was high pitched due to the disbelief, and when she nodded, an anxious laugh escaped me. "Absolutely not."

"Excuse me?"

I snorted, eyes open wide at her confusion, as if the reason for my panic wasn't obvious. "Dustin will have my head on a fucking platter."

"I'm the big sister here." She countered in a stern tone, leaning back against her window.

I groaned, throwing my head over the steering wheel at her expectant, defiant glance; she was right and she knew it. But I was, too. Her younger brother would murder me with his bare hands if something happened to Y/n because of me.

"You don't know how to do it." I stated, hoping to find a starting point to convince her not to make a drug deal with me.

"Teach me, then." I lifted my head again, even more taken aback than before. "Walk me through it." She suggested with a careless shrug.

"Are you asking me," I took my pointer finger to my chest. "the scary freak who's not allowed in your house" my brows raised so far up that they would surely meet my hairline. "to walk you through getting high?"

"It's not like you're dangerous." She pointed out, unbuckling her belt to sit sideways and be able to stare at me.

This girl kept leaving me speechless —which was not unusual, it just hadn't happened whilst talking one-on-one. "How do you even know that."

"We share classes, dude, you're a goofball." She snorted, titling her head to the side. "So, how much is it?"

"I'm not selling you anything."

"Eddie!"

"I... Mmm— okay, you just wanna try?" her head shook affirmatively. "We can... smoke together." her eyes lit up in a way that screamed trouble, which terrified me and excited in equal parts.

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

"Fucking—"

"Shh!" She hushed me from the inside, tiptoes on her mattress and hands on the windowsill.

"Stop sushing me and give me a hand!" I urged her, my upper body into the room and my bottom out in the open.

We were not supposed to be there. The initial idea —crafted by me—, had been to drive her back home, share a joint in the back of my van, and then go back to the trailer park.

Y/n had voiced her concern about this; she believed I would most likely crash if I attempted to drive stoned, and insisted on sneaking me into her room for the night.

Not having the heart to tell her that it wouldn't be the first time I drove stoned, and finding very appealing the chance of spending alone time with Y/n Henderson, I caved in rather quickly. Plus, it was Friday, what could be the harm? I would just leave in the early morning and no one would ever know I was there.

"You're gonna have to roll." Her hands took mine, tugging them down to the bed while she simultaneously climbed off it. Her palm pushed my back for me to be upsidedown while gravity forced my body to slide in.

"I-fucking-hate-this-I-fucking-hate-shit-FUCK!" With a yelp and a thump too loud for anyone's liking, the struggle was over. "Okay. That wasn't so bad." I announced with a thrilled grin, pushing myself off Y/n's blankets to sit up properly on the edge of the bed.

"Uhm," she jogged to put the door on the latch. "How do we do this?"

"We should do it near the window," I tilted my head up. "for obvious reasons. Get comfortable."

"Sure," she kicked of her shoes and prompted me to do the same. Our jackets and my vest ended up poorly discarded at the foot of the bed by the time that Y/n and I found ourselves sitting against her wall, her legs crossed and one of mine pulled to my chest while the other laid sprawled on the soft surface. "So— uhhh..."

I spared her a side glance, my expertise hands pulling out of the lunchbox an already loaded joint. "You nervous?"

"No?" I felt her curious eyes on me as I twisted the end of the rolling paper. "Kinda. In a good way."

"In a good way?" I questioned with a mildly confused half smile, placing the joint between my lips in order to light it.

"Yeah, you know, like" her words paused as she focused on analyzing how I took a drag out of it. "Excited."

I breathed out the smoke, giving her an understanding nod. "I think I get it."

And I did get it; that was exactly how the last two hours with her had felt for me.

"Your turn" I took the reefer between my index and my thumb and handed it over to the girl besides me. "Take a short puff but—" Too late for warnings; by the time I was about to finish the sentence, she was already coughing her lungs out, which made me snort in mirth. "Take it easy."

"You could've" she tried to hold back the coughs as she handed me back the joint. "said that earlier."

"You didn't let me!" I defended myself, taking the rolled up weed from her grasp, eyes never leaving her form, shaky, first from the coughing, then from quieted laughter. "The key is to start slow." I breathed in the weed, holding it for a second before releasing the smoke. "And, since is your first time, just take a couple of puffs— Shit," I cursed, seeing the ashes in my jeans. "You got an ashtray by any chance?"

"Nope but—" She threw her torso over my lap, stretching out her arm to reach for a small bowl on her desk. "We can use this."

All from sudden the ceiling was very interesting to me, my body tensing up under hers. "I could've gotten it for you."

Y/n was quick to retract to her original position, placing the bowl between us. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"Pffft— No?" I half lied, taking a long drag while my eyes roamed the room, because, yes, the ceiling was very interesting, but having her figure pressed against mine was just...

"You sure?"

"Mhmm." I blinked myself back into reality, stopping my mind from wandering too far. You're here for a reason, I told myself. "Okay, try again, but this time," I placed the weed back on her lips. "Take it slow. Short puff. Aaaand hold it for a sec." She did as I instructed her, her fingertips brushing mines while we switched the hold of the joint, sending shocks all the way from my digits to my spine.

Maybe getting stoned with her in such a private, intimate place had not been the best idea ever.

She released the smoke with closed eyes and no coughing this time. "Like that?"

"Yeah." She passed it too me with her eyelids still shut, and I wondered if the weed was already taking effect for her. "You alright?"

"Uh-huh." She rested her head on the wall.

A few minutes passed before Y/n spoke again, sounding as confused as ever.

"Why is it... not kicking in?"

"I—" I gave her a puzzled look, examining her features before stating, "I think it... May be kicking in, Y/n."

"Uhhhh nnno?" She dragged the 'n', accompanying the rhetorical question with a snort.

"You sure about that, sweetheart?" I teased, offering her to take another puff, not without reminding her to by prudent with the intake.

"Pooositive." Oh, it definitely was kicking in. She noticed that too, her eyes opening wide at the realization, perplexed gaze turning to me. "Woah."

I tried to keep myself grounded, despite starting to feel the effects too, since I was supposed to be aiding her. "You feelin'... okay?"

She gave me a slow nod. "My body feels funny." She frowned at her own words before letting out a soft titter.

"This is gonna be hilarious." I declared sliding down the wall to a pretty bad yet awfully comfortable position on Y/n's bed. "Take it veeery slow now, though." I advised, looking up at the girl, whose posture had changed too.

She bobbed her head, smoking once more before handing me down the reefer, her eyes squinted at me for a hot second.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I play with your hair?" A silly smile twisted up the corners of my lips before I could mask it, which triggered a giggle from the girl above me while I moved to lay my head on her thighs. "Ughhhh it's so soft." She dramatically groaned, burying her fingers on my scalp and consequently making my eyes roll into my head. I could barely hold myself from moaning. "Oh wow."

Realizing I had, in fact, not held it back at all, I clapped my hand over my mouth, feeling the heat creep up my neck.

"That was... a reaction." She teased, carding my locks with an amused smile, fingers slow and clumsy due to the weed. "You good?"

"Mhmmm." I shut my eyes, trying to keep it cool.

"You sure?"

"Yea—hhh" in panic, I instinctively grabbed her wrist when her hands dove deeper into my mane, scratching my scalp. I didn't know what was more mortifying; Y/n getting those reactions out of me, or the fact that she snickered. "I'm—"

"It's okaaay." She gave my head a pat, leaning back on the wall before taking her last drag for the night.

Time seemed to stretch and contort, at some point, Y/n had decided to blast an Abba cassette as a background noise to muffle our giggles and disconnected conversations.

Our position had pretty much stayed the same, and now Y/n's fingertips being tangled up in my locks felt like white noise to my body; a very, very pleasant one.

"I like this. Mmmm yeah, I like this." She affirmed to herself in a satisfied manner before letting her eyes look down to me. "Tell me your prices, baby."

"I'm not selling you aaanything." I repeated my words from earlier, waving my hands before my face as an emphasis.

"What if" she folded to face me. "I stroke your hair hmm? What 'bout that?"

I struggled to peel my eyes off her inviting lips. "You, Y/n Henderson," I took her face on my hand to shove it lightly. "Are a minx."

She only laughed, going back down, this time closer. I would only have to prop myself up a few inches and—

"Nope." This time, it was my face the one covered by my hands. "You're—"

"Off limits?"

"High." I corrected, peeking through my fingers at her once her words reached my mind. "Off limits?"

"I heard Dustin." She sat upright with a scornful laugh, fingers leaving my hair. "My fourteen year old brother has you on a chokehold."

"Excuuuuse me, m'lady," I jumped on the bed knocking the ashtray down on my way to invade her personal space. "Who said I'm listening to your literal tadpole of a brother about who is and who isn't off limits?"

I only managed to appreciate the look on her face once we were inches away. That proud, satisfied, borderline cocky look she sported when she got what she wanted.

"You. Are. Goading me!" I announced in shock, seeing the slyness twist her features— goddamnit why was that so attractive?

"Is it working?" She whispered the question with a lewd smirk.

It was. It really was, but it wasn't right. "I... Have principles. And you" I pulled away, leaning back. "are horny 'cause you're high."

"I. Am. Not." She declared, accompanying each of her words with a thump on the mattress.

"Horny or high?"

"Screw you."

"You should thank me." I traveled further away from her until my back hit the side of her desk. "I'm saving you the embarrassment of making out with me."

Whatever playfulness we had going on dropped. She seemed almost offended by my words. "Eddie, for fuck's sake." She tugged my wrists, making me scurry back to her before cupping my face with her palms. "That's ssso fucking dumb. Are you dumb?"

"Am I dumb?" I queried, words mushed due to my cheeks being squeezed together. I am for not kissing you, I thought to myself, dilated pupils falling on her lips.

"Yup." She confirmed, letting me know I was thinking out loud for the nth time that night. "Can I... uhh... ask you somethin'?" I gave her an affirmative hum, sighing at the loss of contact when her hands dropped from my cheeks into the bed. "Do you... Nevermind."

"What? No!" I shoved her shoulder before she lied on her back, hands over her head. "C'mon! what is it?" She shook her head 'no', jumping when I poked her side. "C'monnnn!" Another poke, another jump. "Y/n!" Another one.

"Eddieee!" She squealed, trying to push me away in vain due to the giggles.

"Tellmetellmetellme!" I mashed the words together as I climbed on top of her, tickling her until she was a mess of laughter.

"Eddie stop!" She managed to sputter out, setting for tugging my flush against her body before wrapping her arms around me, which turned out to be just the right way to get me to cease my attack, because her embrace was warm and gentle and loving— so loving that I found myself forgetting about whatever question she was going to ask, melting into her hold instead.

If someone were to ask, I wouldn't be able to respond how long we stayed like that; what I could pinpoint, however, was the exact moment that sobered me up.

The violent knock on the door.

Still coming down from the peak of her high state, Y/n didn't quite register what she was doing when she pushed me off and rushed to the room's entrance, unlatching the lock.

"Y/n wait—"

"Hey there Dustybun." She attempted to hold back a snort at the sight of her horrified younger brother, of which I was able to catch a glimpse once I got up from the bed. "Did I wake you?"

"What—" once he spotted, his eyes went so wide that it looked like they would pop out of his skull. "What are you doing here?! Why was she yelling your name?! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"

"It's not what it looks like, man, I swear." I whispered, getting closer to the door.

Dustin shoved us out of the way and his gaze traveled from the messy bed, to our discarded layers of clothing, and to our toulsed hair and disheveled appearance. "Oh, I bet." He hissed. "Get out." He demanded from me, pointing his index finger at the front door's direction.

"He can't," Y/n moved to stand between us and whispered, "he's high."

Dustin, whose brain was going surprisingly slow considering how smart he was, managed to put two and two together. "Y/n, please tell me you are not high."

"He can't go home, he's hiiigh. He gotta sleep here." Y/N whined, blatantly ignoring her brother's inquiry, which was an answer on its own.

"I swear." He pinched his nose, shaking his head in disappointment. "Okay, Eddie you come to my room. And you" he pointed at Y/n. "be thankful I don't feel like waking up mom."

"You're an angel." She sighed in contempt, planting a loud smooch on Dustin's forehead, which made him shove her away with a disgusted face.

"Do I get a kiss too?" I blurted out without giving my words a second thought. "I'm sorry I—"

"Excuse you?" The curly haired boy seemed so outraged that I wouldn't have been shocked if he had punched me in the spot. "I swear on my mother's life— Y/n!"

Dustin was shocked. I was shocked.

Y/n clearly wasn't, since she had been the one to take a surprisingly firm hold of my face in order to plant a kiss on my mouth.

Her lips felt so divine that I would have sworn I had died and ascended to heaven, and the weed was not helping that feeling, only alienating me further from reality.

It was short lasting, and left me wishing for her to kiss me silly.

It was Dustin's yank on my arm the thing that snapped me out of my trance. "No more sucking face, okay?!" He scolded us both, wrenching my form in the hall's direction. "Go to sleep, Y/n. Now." He ordered as we left the room.

She gifted me an apologetic smile before mouthing a 'night, Eddie', leaning on the door frame. Our eyes stayed locked until Dustin shoved me into his own room, not so far from Y/n's.

"What is WRONG WITH YOU?!" he seethed, shutting the door behind him. "My sister?! Really, Eddie?! And she's HIGH!"

"I'm sorry, man—" I tried in vain to apologize, Taking a seat in the freshman's armchair while he paced.

"No! Shut up!" He pointed a menacing finger at me. "I explicitly told you she's OFF. LIMITS. Do I have to spell it..."

My attention, sooner rather than later, drifted from Dustin's tantrum to a way more compelling topic; whatever had happened in the last hours.

It was just starting to dawn on me how surreal the situation had really been. Y/n and I had gone in one night from exchanging a couple of words in class to... To that.

And what the fuck was that exactly? Was it a one time experience? Would we go back to have simple interactions, such as greeting each other in high school halls and commenting Mrs. Click's class while she waited for Dustin at the cafeteria? Because I didn't know how awkward would that be.

I felt like I knew Y/n in a way I would have never expected to know her, and that had transformed my dumb high school crush into stupid fucking butterflies in my stomach at the thought of her.

"...Are you listening to me?!"

"Y-yeah." I shamelessly lied, fidgeting with my rings. Just like Y/n had been animatedly doing for a little while, earlier.

Why had she kissed me?

Fuck, I had way more questions than answers. I couldn't help but wonder whether she had done it because she was high or... Maybe because she... Liked me?

No way.

I buried my face in my palms, completely unaware of what Dustin might have been saying. I doubted I would obtain any answers to questions I would never have the guts to ask, so the best thing to do was to focus on the positive side of it all.

Y/n had turned a boring, borderline depressing Friday night into what would most likely be the best night of the year.

I couldn't hold back the smile that thought put on my face.

#eddie munson request #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie x henderson!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #stranger things fic #st eddie #stranger things 4

356 notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

EIGHTEEN, CRAZY (Prologue)

"The Plan"

Summary: With her highschool experience coming to an end, Y/n finally grows tired of her parents' long lasting effort to make her the perfect girl; if they refuse to let her live her best life, she'll make them live their worst— and what can possibly be worse than having your lovely daughter mingling with Eddie Munson?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Genre: mostly fluff/fake dating

Tags:

Eighteen, crazy: —

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

Warnings: brief allusion to murder (?) That's it

A/N: Diving head first into the Eddie Munson obsession pool like Steve dove into that lake LMAOOO Disclaimer that I'm not doing much research on this tbh, so beware. If you wanna be added to any taglist let me know. That said, enjoy this little blurb <3.

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"YOU KIDDING?!"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" I questioned unbothered, not quite understanding the concern in my friends' faces.

"You sound like you're kidding!" My best friend Linda looked around in fear before leaning across the lunch table. "Y/n. Eddie Munson? Are you serious?" She whispered in distress.

After years of being meticulously held at bay by my parents, and with the end of my highschool experience on the horizon, I had resumed it was time to rebel, straying from my straight A, good girl path.

Since my parents would definitely not yield to my pleas of flying free by fair means, the only way they had left me was by foul.

That's how I found myself explaining to my group of close friends what devious plan my mind had devised.

"Well I mean— he's not that bad, y'know?" Liz, who sat at the front of the table, spoke, lazily playing with the food on her plate. "I tutor him in math, he's... actually kinda nice. Horrible student, though."

"Bet Ted Bundy was 'actually kinda nice'." The quieter of us four finally spoke his mind about my idea, accompanying his sentence with quotation marks.

"George!" I widened my eyes at his deadpan expression, to which he shrugged.

"What? We're just tryna knock some common sense into you."

"I— well— Okay— Listen! I don't need 'common sense'," I hissed through gritted teeth. "I need my parents to get off my back!"

"Why don't you go for, I don't know, Carver?" Liz suggested. "I feel like your dad would be just as mad."

I twisted my face with apprehension, sparing a side eye to the basketball team's captain. "I don't like him."

"But you like Eddie Munson?" Linda inquired, incredulous.

"I didn't say that."

"You're implying it." George pointed out with squinted, suspecting eyes.

"I don't like him!" I groaned, slamming my fist on our table. George raised his hands in defeat, straightening himself on the spot. "All I know is that he's a scary guy, older than me, with long hair," I started counting with my fingers in front of my friends "he drinks, he smokes—"

"He sells drugs."

"He sells drugs— good point." I agreed, pointing at a very much alarmed Linda. "Plays in a weird band, and is part of a cult or something."

"Jesus Christ, Y/n."

"Plus, by what Lizzy says, he's not that much of a bad guy, so we know he won't— I don't know— take me to his van, kill me and chop my corpse off into little chunks."

"Do we?" George hesitance did nothing but annoy me, but I understood my friend's point.

"Believe me," Liz chucked softly raising her brows without looking up from her plate. "We do."

"The whole point is to give my parents a heart attack, and they despise everything Eddie Munson stands for." I leaned back on my chair, finishing my explanation. "It's perfect."

"It's nonsense, that's what it is." George countered. "You're out of your mind, Y/n."

"Would you look at that? my parents finally managed to drive me crazy." I nonchalantly stated, looking around the cafeteria in search of a particular student. "There he is."

"Who?" Linda tracked my line of vision with a puzzled gaze.

"Munson." Liz clarified, taking a peek over George's shoulder, and therefore missing my movements until I was up. "Hey, where you going?"

"To get the ball rolling." I checked my wristwatch, taking a hold of my backpack before throwing one of the straps over my shoulder.

"Oh God." Linda's words came out muffled, as her face was hidden behind her palms.

"Y/n, wait—" While I circled our table, George had gotten up, and now stood in my way. "Don't take this the wrong way but... Ugh—"

"But?" I prompted him to speak, very much aware that the lunch break was coming to an end, which meant that I was running out of time.

"You haven't asked out anyone in your life," my friend halfheartedly muttered. "and you're gonna start with Eddie Munson?"

I froze as George's words sunk in. With a deep breath, and taking another look at the pariahs' table, I shook off my insecurities in favor of taking my freedom back.

"Go big or go home, Georgie." I dedicated the boy a smile and, with a pat on his chest, I moved him aside and resumed my walk.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfiction #joseph quinn

119 notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

SEE YOU AROUND

Summary: for most of Easy Company, war took away more than it gave. Pieces of them stayed buried six feet under in foreign land while they were forced to carry on with their lives. George Luz and Y/n Y/l/n, who took time for granted, were no strangers to this tragic fate.

Pairing: George Luz x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Band Of Brothers: @sparkyluz @chubbypotatoepie

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

Warnings: major character death, language, blood, warfare, lmk if i missed something.

A/N: Listen, I'm GENUINELY sorry for this one, but in my defense, I was left unsupervised. I'd say enjoy but LMAOOOO, not even I have the audacity. Some Guarnere love coming after this btw, and requests are open <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Spring of '47, Foy

I cleared my throat, kneeling in front of the generic cross planted in the green Belgian lane. "Hey, there."

My eyes landed on the date of birth and death for a split second; I averted my gaze, looking over my shoulder to see my sister who had decided to wait for me at the entrance of the graveyard in order to give me some privacy.

"Missed me?" I threw my question in the air, directed to someone who was no longer among the living. " 'cause I sure miss you."

Winter of '44, Bastogne

"MEDIC!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, crawling into Y/n's foxhole, the one I had just left. "don't worry, Y/n, you're fine—" I frantically accommodated her the best I could, kneeling besides her. "DOC!"

"ROE!" Frank yelled, crawling in with a horrified look on his face at the state Y/n had been left in by the shelling.

"She's fine— you're fine." I affirmed, first at Frank, then at Y/n, caressing her cheek with one hand while the other pressed the wound on her abdomen.

"DOC, HERE!" Lipton slid into the trench too, leaving his M1 besides him in order to apply pressure on Y/n's leg, peppered by shrapnel.

"I'm here! I'm here." Roe landed by Y/n's side, right across from me. "Hey, Y/n." He spoke calmly, holding her chin still to check her pupils. The space in the ground was becoming smaller. "Lift her head, Luz. Y/n, you're gonna be alright. Perconte, put this around her leg." He threw a long thin rag at my friend. "What happened?"

"Mortar." I said, placing Y/n's head on top of my thigh. "Right in front of her." At that point, at least seven of the boys had crowded around us, doing their best to help, but inevitably making a racket which didn't seem to help the situation.

Though they did the trick when it came to hold Y/n in place, whose body contorted and spasmed in the half dug foxhole due to the pain.

"This is impossible—" Gene muttered. "Y/n, I need you to stay still."

"It's not like she doesn't want to." I couldn't help but retort with some annoyance, trying my best to mask my worry with it.

"Somebody got morphine?!" Roe had opted for ignoring the comment, and instead turned to the boys for response.

"Here!" Smokey threw a syrette at us, which I easily caught.

"Straight into her shoulder, George." I complied at Doc's orders, injecting her the liquid. Y/n's jerks eased, and so did her pained expression. "Keep her awake and apply pressure there." He briefly pointed at a wound i had failed to notice on the side of Y/n's neck. "Someone get me a goddamn jeep!"

"Yes, Doc!" Perconte left Y/n's leg in Lipton's care and took off to get the radio. We could hear him frantically yelling into it from the foxhole besides ours.

"Y/n, talk to me, yeah?" I nearly begged, shifting my position to hover over her, shielding her view of the sky. Her drowsy eyes met mine, and a sudden flash of clarity seemed to cross them.

"I love you."

The words, clear as day, almost made me lose the hold I had on her neck's bandage.

"...What?"

"I said—" Her words came to a halt due to a choked cough, accompanied with drops of blood. "I said I love you." I took a quick peek around me and noticed how everyone pretended to be either too busy or too distracted. "Ain't it stupid?" She coughed again; I took the initiative and propped her up even before Roe could tell me to do so, letting her shoulder blade lean against my chest. "I volunteered to jump... Outta planes..." My breath hitched when her head bobbed to the side, resting her temple on the crook of my neck. "But open my heart to you... T-terrifies me."

"Y/N you're talkin' nonsense." I whispered, more afraid of her words that of her wounds for a second.

"This is the most... coherent thing I've said in a while." She tried to shift her position in order to meet my gaze, but given her weakened state and my fear of being face to face with my badly wounded friend in that moment made me hold her in place.

"It's the morphine speakin'." I stated, stroking her hair with my free hand.

"It ain't the morphine—" another cough stained the back of my hands with her blood; with my lips pressed in a thin line, I looked up to pray for any God above to save Y/n, but the only thing I saw was milky fog.

"PERCONTE WHERE'S THAT JEEP?!" Roe shouted, his eyes dancing between me, Y/n, and her wounds before he peeked over his shoulder to check on the radioman.

"ON ITS WAY!" A rapid fire of 'c'mon's fell off my lips. My soul was about to leave my body.

"It's me 'boutta die in a fucking..." She took in a ragged breath and I squeezed her tighter against me, to Roe's dismay. "foxhole without tellin' ya... That I love you..."

"You're not gonna die—"

"Luz, put her down!" Doc shouted. Scared, with shaky hands, I complied, never letting go of her neck. "Perconte?!"

"I hear the jeep!" I yelled, my heart skipping a bit at the distant characteristic engine roar, triggering a wave of hope to wash through me. "You're fine." I gave her an adrenaline fueled smile before leaning on to place a kiss on her forehead. When I pulled away, my smile fell.

I didn't like one bit the sight of her.

"Hey, Y/n stay with me, 'kay?" Her shaky, cold fingertips tried to intertwin with mines, splattered in crimson, but her strength gave out before she could do so. "No c'mon," I leaned on, muttering pleas for her to stay, as terrified as I would ever be. "Y/n c'mon— please." I pressed harder on the wound of her neck, hoping that if I did so, her eyes would focus on me once more. "Please! Y/N!"

She didn't move anymore. Her eyes weren't looking at me anymore. Her chest wasn't going up and down anymore.

Our friends, gathered up around us, had been long forgotten, as I was solely focused on fighting for Y/n's life with all my will.

Now that she was gone, the weight of reality sinked in, and when I looked up, I was met with a more than a dozen of teary orbs staring at me.

Lipton locked eyes with me for a second, a concerned glance on his face. He was quick to break eye contact, though, choosing to look up at what I supposed was the jeep.

None of us moved.

I guess Perconte picked up on that oddity and decided to come and check what he had already figured by the lack of motion.

My hand left her neck in order to help her lay down on the freezing ground until Roe told us to carry her out of it, but when I spared a glance at the medic, I saw him already observing me, as if he waited for my cue to move Y/n.

I sat back against the poorly dug walls and stared in shock at the casualty. There was no way she was dead, I thought, while Roe gently closed her eyelids. She wasn't gone —she couldn't be.

Had I lost Y/n without confessing how much I loved her?

I casted down my gaze, only to be met with Y/n's blood all over my trousers and hands. The red liquid, previously warm and sticky, was starting to freeze.

She was dead.

Staring at my hands and being met with the terrible fate she had suffered made my stomach turn; before I knew it, I was crawling out of the foxhole and throwing up at the roots of the nearest tree.

"Luz c'mon." A pair of hands pulled me up from my knees. "C'mon, buddy. We gotta stay low." Skip, assisted by Malark, pulled me into Frank's trench.

After that, everything was a blur for a few days; I wandered around as Winter's runner, half dead, half alive, entirely at the mercy of the woods.

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

My family knew why I had been adamant to come back to Foy as soon as possible; I had yet to shut up about Y/n.

Her name was all over the letters I sent home back in Toccoa. At first it was just a couple of mentions, but as we grew closer, she became more present in my writing. It reached a point in which my family had begged me to meet Y/n.

I had never confirmed she wasn't my girlfriend to my family; having someone refer to Y/n as my partner always gave me butterflies.

I should have done something about it.

Why didn't I do anything?

Summer of '43, Rhode Island

I snuck into the kitchen, where my mother chatted with Y/n while she helped her wash the dishes. We had tried to persuade her not to, but she had insisted.

"Hey, Ma," I closed the door behind me. "Why dontcha head out? I'll finish the dishes."

My mother gave me a weary look but indulged me, muttering in her way out, "George, e suas mãos quietas."

"Sim, mãe." Y/n gave me a confused, yet amused look and I shrugged with a knowing grin. "How're you holding up?" I asked taking the soap in my hands. She shook her head with a smile and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Busy household you got here." I handed her one plate after another for her to dry them.

"Sorry 'bout that." I responded, becoming sort of self-conscious about my family for the first time. "Too little space, too many people, y'know?" I let out a nervous chuckle, attempting to wipe my hands on my pants. They were caught by Y/n before I could do so.

"Never said I didn't like it." She reassured me, drying my palms with the cloth she held, giving me a smile. "They're all very kind." She stepped away, placing the rag on the counter and leaning on it. "This is surreal, though."

Y/n had been marked as a pariah at her house, so when the time came in which we got a break to visit home before shipping out, I had half jokingly suggested her to spend said break at my place. As ridiculous as it had sounded, she accepted the invitation.

"Sorry—"

"Luz, stop apologizing." She cut me off, eyebrows raised and a playful grin on her face. "They're lovely— you're lovely."

"Jeez, Y/l/n." I hopped on the counter, gaining confidence back. "Don't you fall in love with me."

"Ha ha." She stuck out her tongue at me, pushing herself off the counter in order to get her glass, which was left besides me. "You wish." I, of course, couldn't waste an opportunity to mess with her, and got a hold of the glass before she could do so, pushing it behind me whilst flashing her a mischievous smile. "What are you, ten?"

"Yup," I climbed off, taking her glass with me. "Ten outta ten, sweetheart." That triggered a snort from Y/n, who didn't even make any real effort to get the glass back, and instead stayed close with her arms crossed.

I winked at her and handed her the water. "Thank you very much." After taking a sip, she seemed to ponder how to word her next thought for a second. "Quick question,"

"Shoot."

"Why does your family think we're uhh... Dating?"

I shrugged, feigning cluelessness. "I just mention you a lot in my letters and—"

"Oh?" Oh no. "You mention me a lot in your letters, George?" Her coy grin promised endless teasing about that. "Are you in love with me, Luz?"

"Ha ha. You wish." I imitated her earning a light push on my shoulder. We stayed in silence for a couple of minutes, hearing the usual hubbub reigning in my home while we gazed at each other, a bit sleepy, a bit enamoured.

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

Scratching the back of my neck, I crouched down in front of the tomb.

"I brought you flowers." I whispered, carefully placing the modest bouquet against the cross. "I know you're not a fan of these, but don't bitch about it, they're pretty 'kay?" A groan escaped my parted lips as I sat down with my legs crossed. "War's over. It's been for a minute— and we won, so you owe me money, but I'll let it slip for now."

Talking to her grave was an odd feeling; my sister Victoria had suggested it on our way there, and I thought it wouldn't hurt to give it a try.

"Came back to the States in one piece— can you believe that?" A part of me was hoping to hear her voice replying. "Muck was right, I'm one lucky bastard." The loss started to dawn on me then. "We lost him here too. And Penkala. We lost— shit." I took a deep breath, running my hands over my face. "We lost too many people." I muttered, looking at my surroundings, taking in the amount of death that laid on that green field.

C'mon, Luz, I thought to myself.

"Tell you what," I cleared my throat again, feeling the lump in it and being grateful for my family not to be close at that moment. "I didn't come all the way back here to beat around the bush." Breath in, breath out. "I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so, so sorry."

That was it, that was the moment of realization. All from sudden, the simple task of breathing was way too difficult.

"I should've told you I loved you too, but I'm stupid." My lower lip quivered, my eyes fixed on Y/n's name, engraved on the stone in the most delicate way. "I thought you'd heal and it'd be awkward, I thought I'd have time to... I thought—"

Something deep inside my heart cracked, and a sorrowful sob escaped the prison where my grief had been carefully stacked in.

"Shit— I'm sorry. I love you." I rubbed my tears away, only for more to run down. "I just hope you knew that back then— you're so smart so it's not— you knew right? Please, please tell me you knew." I sniffed, running my hands through my hair. "Please, tell me I was dumb enough to let it show..." My pleas were nothing but an unintelligible mumbling mess, comfort to none.

Shaky breath in, shaky breath out.

"Days are dull without you." I confessed, my eyes shut. "I try to keep up the good spirits, but it's hard when you're not here to laugh at my stupid jokes." I tried to picture her sitting in front of me, listening attentively to my words, just like Victoria had adviced. It almost felt like she was there. "I'd give anything to see you again." I confessed.

I opened my eyes slowly, head casted down, and lifted my chin up. A part of me had genuinely hoped to find Y/n there, staring at me.

That was not how things worked.

I kept gushing out apologies, confessions, things I didn't get to tell her, while the tears washed away the guilt.

And when there was nothing else to wash, I sat in silence, pulled out a cigarette and left one with the flowers for her. The sun was setting by the time my sister came to get me.

"George we have to go now." She whispered, as not to disturb the oddly peaceful silence I was immersed in.

I nodded and she stepped away for me to bid my goodbye.

"We'll meet again, Y/n." I stated with confidence, taking one last drag out of the cigarette before putting it off. "Don't you think you're getting away with that twenty bucks you owe me." Shoving my hands in my pockets, I took one last look at the cemetery before fixing my eyes on the grave once more. "See ya around."

Yeah, see you around.

I froze for a second. Maybe it was my imagination playing tricks, or maybe she was there. I didn't care much about which one might be, just nodded with a half smile, turned around and joined my sister.

We'd see each other around, some day.

#side account reblog #george luz fanfiction #george luz x reader #george luz x you #george luz angst #band of brothers fandom

133 notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

I love how I no longer post on this account but I still have like 25 fics judging me from my drafts

#marvel masterlist #mcu bucky barnes #mcu fanfiction

1 note · View note

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

HANDLE THE SITUATION

Request: Can I request an angsty lieb x reader fic in which the reader pushes alley away from the potato masher at crossroads and it hits her instead and like joe is literally dying inside cuz they had been fighting prior to that? Thanks xx

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst w/ happy ending

Tags:

Requested by: anon

Band Of Brothers: @sparkyluz @chubbypotatoepie

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

Warnings: warfare, wounds, blood, language, make out session and I think that's all but you tell me

A/N: I'm starting to go overboard with the one-shots but I refuse to make a series out of everything so enjoy this really long Lieb fic <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"MEDIC!" The word came out of my lungs taking the form of a terror-filled shriek which made everyone in the barn spin in our direction for a split second before taking action.

Lesniewski, who had opened the door for us, was now rushing our fellow comrades to clear the broad table, along with Strohl.

Alley stayed behind, walking with me and eventually helping me lay Y/n down on the wooden surface as carefully as possible. When Moe looked up, I could see guilt plastered all over his stare.

I would have loved to let him know it wasn't his fault, that Y/n had made the choice to take the hit for him —she really was one of a kind—, that she would have done it a thousand times in a heartbeat for any of us, but when I reached for a bandage to cover my own wound and my eyes laid on the lacerated woman, I could only spare my friend a very unfair resentful glare.

I casted down my head once more, this time due to the hitched breath coming from Y/n. I kneeled down by her side while Roe took a good look at the wounds from across the table.

Her eyes were fixed in an indefinite point above us, a single tear running down the upper part of her cheekbone, washing a string of blood on its way. She did not complain while Doc began to clean her wounds— probably due to the shock, but worthy of admiration nonetheless.

"—Joe!" My head snapped at Winters, who stared at me with a concerned frown. Given the looks of the boys, our Captain had called for me more than once. "I asked if you're able to go back."

"Why wouldn't I?" Winters pretended to overlook the unnecessary bitterness in my tone.

"C'mon, then."

"Yes, Sir." My heart skipped a beat when Y/n's trembling fingers brushed my own bandage, through which the blood was beginning to leak. "I'll be back, ya fuckin' dumbass." I whispered, gently pulling her hand away from my neck.

Thank God the shrapnel hadn't reached her eyes, I thought to myself. They were my favorite thing; I loved getting lost in them, the inherent comfort they offered to anyone, the sparkle of mischief they held when she joked around.

As I raised back to my feet in order to part, I was able to fully appreciate the magnitude of the number the potato masher had done on her. Roe had partially cut off her clothes, and the numerous holes in her body were now visible.

I would never get rid of that sight.

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

"If you weren't so far up your ass you'd see—"

"why don't you try and behave civil for once, Liebgott?" She hissed, leaning back as we walked in order for me to hear her low voice.

"You love playin' the bigger person, dontcha?" I sneered, hovering over her from behind without stopping the march, eyes fixed ahead of us. "Little Miss fuckin' Perfect."

She spun around to give me a firm shove, which made me bump into Strohl, who passed us muttering something intelligible. "You're as thick as two short planks and I can't fuckin' stand your pretentious ass." She spat, eyes fiery with rage. "Better like that?"

I didn't even recall how we had gotten there. Something related to a comment I had made about how she was too loud for a scouting mission. It had, like most times, escalated.

Said comment hadn't been meanspirited; on the contrary, what I had intended was to keep Y/n out of it. She had been worn out since Market Garden. I was trying to help her, but she hadn't seen it like that, so there we were, adding fuel to the flames.

"Every word that comes out of your mouth makes my blood boil." I retorted through gritted teeth, suppressing the yells I wanted to shout out.

"You're the most insufferable—"

"Silence! The two of you!" Sergeant Youman scolded us, making our faces turn to him. "You're in the Airborne, not in a school playground." I took in a sharp breath, knowing it was time to keep our mouths shut, as hard as it might be. "Y/l/n, with Alley. Liebgott, with Strohl. Lesniewski, climb that dike, let us know what you see."

"Yes, Sir." Lesniewski whispered, jogging ahead of us to accomplish the task he had been assigned.

I took the chance to overtake Y/n, circling her with my eyes digging on her form. "that's the last time I try to do somethin' nice for ya."

"Somethin' nice— the nerve you have." she seethed, parting ways to meet Alley.

We were all coming together around the dike, positioning ourselves while Lesniewski climbed it. I turned to Y/n, who was already squinting her eyes at me. I was about to mouth some blasphemy at her when something rolled down the slope.

"LIVE GRENADE!" Lesniewski shouted atop of us. Some reacted quicker than others.

"ALLEY, MOVE!" Y/n shouted, propping herself.

"Y/N NO! WAIT—!" Time slowed down, elongating the disastrous moment in my eyes.

Not trusting Alley's response speed, Y/n threw herself to him, surely with the intention to make them both roll away, but there was not enough time left to do so.

With dread, I realized that faster than any of them, and I instinctively reached out to pull Y/n towards me, which earned me a piece of shrapnel in my neck.

"Sonofabitch!" I yelped, thrown back by the pain, taking a hand to the place where the damage had been inflicted. "Fuckin' Krauts!"

Strohl, cussing, informed us the shrapnel had reached the radio; hand grenades thrown by Lesniewski were heard going off at the opposite side of the dike. It wasn't until Youman pulled me up that I didn't see what had happened to Y/n.

Alley was her upper body, which laid limply on the grass, to rest on his thighs. "Fuck..." I crouched by them, mentally preparing myself for the worst.

In the darkness of the night, We could barely discern anything, but Alley, after looking for Y/n's pulse, affirmed she was alive; I bent to check her breathing, too, and felt it fanning my cheek.

"Hey, Y/n." I called for her, catching a glimpse of the wounds due to the glistening spots of blood all over her left side that seemed to grow wider. I prayed for that to be a nasty trick of my imagination. "I'm gonna get ya outta here—" I jumped over her and snaked my forearms under her knees ans shoulder blades. "c'mon, sweetheart, upsa-daisy!"

As I pulled us both up, a weak whimper escaped her lips. Her eyes were still open when her face constricted in agony due to the pain; I knew she thought she was dying by the grip her hand had on my jacket, making my heart stammer in terror.

At some point in our rushed way to CP, I thought she was dying, too.

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

READER'S P. O. V.

It had been... Three days? Maybe four? I wasn't certain; most of my time at the aid station, excepting Alley's visit, had been spent either under the effects of morphine or sleeping.

All I knew was that it was daytime, and that I hated the rays of sunlight that snuck into the aid station and dazzled my eyes, stopping me from catching a glimpse of Liebgott entering and walking up to my bed until he was by my side.

His visit would have taken me more aback if Moe hadn't spilled the beans to me when he had dropped by. Luckily for Joe, I had been too intoxicated to pick up on everything, but I had gotten a grasp of the basics.

'you should've seen his face, he was 'boutta murder me.' 'I think he cried while he carried you all the way back' 'he appreciates you more than you think.'

"Hey." He cleared his throat, hands on his pockets, scanning my frame and making a stop on my damaged side. "How are ya?"

"Alive." My voice was raspy from the lack of use. "How do I look?"

He frowned, his lips pressed in a tight line. "Like a pretty version of Frankenstein."

"Frankenstein's the doctor, Lieb." I smugly corrected him. "It's the details that matter."

"Smartass."

There was an instant of silence preceding my inquiry. "Your neck?"

"Just a scratch." He dismissed, taking a look around.

He was completely out of his comfort zone, so obviously not knowing what to do or how to act; I would have been the same, but my judgement was slightly clouded by the remainings of the drugs in my body, giving me a carefree attitude.

"You think I look pretty, huh?"

"What?"

"You said—"

"Pretty version of Frankenstein." He did his best to ride out the situation I was intentionally driving us into. "It's the details that matter, right Y/l/n?"

"Ha. ha." I spared him an observing glance; his eyes were fixed on his boots while he seemed to debate what he should say and how.

"Ya know," he inhaled, scrunching his nose. "If you'd kept your pretty mouth shut when I said you shouldn't go on the patrol—"

"Shut up, Liebgott." I cut him off before he could start a fight. I had one shot to take this conversation where I wanted to, and he wasn't going to ruin it with his poor management of emotions. "That's two 'pretty's in a row."

"So what?" He spat.

"Nothin'." I shrugged, attempting and failing to hold back a devilish smirk at his defensive stance. "Alley said I gave you quite a scare." I tested the waters, throwing my forearm over my eyes in order to block the light that threatened to worsen my headache.

"Alley should shut the fuck up." I heard his steps, and assumed he had either stepped back or attempted to pace. "Where the hell are you drivin' up with this, Y/n?"

"I'm just havin' a conversation." I blatantly lied, not wanting to be straightforward just yet. "After the blast I went deaf on this side for a hot minute." My seemingly random statement helped him ease up. "Y'know what's the last thing I heard?"

'Y/N, WAIT—!'

The words echoed in my head every now and then. It had been a desperate cry out, followed by a tug on my boot. The tone in which they were shouted made me feel sorry for Liebgott.

"I—" I peeked at him. He looked like a deer caught on headlights. "I- I don't care. I just came to check you weren't dead or somethin'." He hesitated, huffed, ran his hand through his locks and muttered something under his breath before declaring, "Shouldn't've come. Fuck this."

I couldn't stop him from walking out, and in all honesty, I wasn't sure if I would have tried to. Thinking about it, I myself didn't quite know if what I was attempting to do was a good idea, at least in that setting.

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

"Y/n Y/l/n, back for more!" Some of the boys who were smoking near the barracks turned at the sound of my name, coming from Talbert, who lost no time to come greet me once I arrived at Mourmelon among a group of replacements.

"Hey, Tab." a genuine smile danced on my face; the aid station had been hell on earth, and, as crazy as it sounded, I had been dying to head back to Easy.

"Pretty face you got there, Y/n." George commented, vaguely pointing at all the carefully stitched wounds on my left side.

"It's still better than yours." I responded, shaking his hand, much like I had shaken Talbert's. Scanning the group of veterans, I locked eyes with Liebgott. Once I had caught him staring, it took him less than a second to throw his cigarette to the ground and walk away from the group.

"Just in time for the weekend passes, huh?"

"Yeah just in time— will you excuse me, boys?" I requested absentmindedly before marching through them.

"Don't step into any potato mashers, kid!"

"I'll try, Martin!" I responded with a soft laugh before hurrying my steps. "Hey." I sighed when Liebgott, instead of stopping, began to walk faster. "Hey!" After a brief jog, I managed to reach him, giving his forearm a tug. "Where's the fire, Liebgott?"

He came to a halt, sighing before turning around. "Shouldn't you be in a hospital or somethin'?"

"I went AWOL." I explained.

He stared at me dumbfounded with an incomprehensible look on his face. "Go back to the hospital or I'll report you." And with that threat, he spun back and resumed his walk.

"Excuse me?" I couldn't help but snort at the incoherence of his words, trailing after him. "You'll get me sanctioned 'cause what? you don't wanna see me? Very mature."

"I don't wanna see you HURT!" He shouted, suddenly rotating whilst gesticulating wildly. "That's what I don't wanna see! You fuckin' IDIOT!" His voice cracked and I couldn't tell if it was due to the anger or triggered by something else he couldn't quite handle. "You could've let Alley take the blow but NO! You had to be as fuckin' selfless as always!" It was definitely something else, it was fear. It shone in his orbs, making them glassy. "Seein' you all holed was the worst thing in the f—" There was an instant of silence in which he took in a sharp breath, trying hard to get a hold of himself while I stared perplexed. "I— you were—" his eyes drifted away from mines, getting lost not in a place but in a thought, and suddenly the fear in them started to slide down his cheekbones. "FUCK!"

I averted my gaze, in order to give him a moment to compose himself, in which I dismissed a couple of privates who had come to check what the yelling was.

Once he had wiped the tears away and seemed to be in a better state, I spoke. "I signed up for this, Joe." As uncomfortable as I was, I tried my best to sound somewhat gentle, yet firm.

He shook his head no, eyes casted on the ground, arms akimbo. "What am I supposed to do if you throw yourself in front of another grenade?" He questioned, finally looking up.

"What am I supposed to do if you do that?" I retorted. "You think I don't know how you got the shrapnel in your neck?" He huffed, pulling out his lighter and another cigarette from his pocket before doing a half turn.

And then I said something I should have, because he was leaving once more and I didn't know how else to make him stay.

"Alley told me how you feel about me!" Mistake or not, it made him stop walking. "This is not the way you wanna handle the situation, Joe."

"Y/n. I don't wanna handle the situation." He spoke in a whisper, as if he was afraid someone else would hear us. "You're the most reckless person in the whole fucking battalion, if I handle the situation and you die, I dunno what I'm gonna do with myself." Liebgott explained, pointing at me with the hand he held the cigarette in. "And Alley's a blabbermouth, he had no reason to tell you that."

"Joe," I frowned. "Y'know how I feel about you?"

"Y/N, don't go there." He warned me, shaking his head 'no'. "I said I don't wanna handle the situation. We'll pretend Moe kept his mouth shut."

"So we wait 'til another grenade goes off?" He took a drag of his cigarette, examining the wall besides us. "We just wait 'til— can you look at me when I'm talkin'?"

Letting out a frustrated grunt, I stalked to him until only a few inches were left in between us, tearing the cigarette away from his hand and throwing it to the ground before taking a hold of his cheeks and forcing him to look at me.

"I fuckin' appreciate you. A lot. You have no idea, alright?" I stated firmly, letting go of his face to point my index at him. "And I'm not gonna wait until you're dead to handle it— 'cause guess what, you idiotic jerk?! You're as reckless as I am!"

The corner of his lip twitched up in the most subtle way— so subtle that I would have thought I had imagined it, had it not been for his words.

"You want me to handle the situation?"

"Yes, I want you to fuckin' handle the—" he slapped my index finger away before closing the gap between us, cupping my cheeks in order to hold me steady once our mouths met.

It was a hungry kiss, sloppy and impatient; teeth clashing and pants slipping in between, our hands fought with one another's layers of clothing, desperately pulling each other impossibly closer.

At some point, between Liebgott backing me against the wall and my hands finding their way under his shirt, a very clear thought crossed my mind.

This is not how we should handle the situation.

I took advantage of the moment Joe put some distance between our lips in order to catch a breath to speak my mind.

"We gotta work on this." I announced in a breathless whisper, slipping my hands out of Joe's clothing while he let go of my thigh, which he had pulled up. "This— I don't think this is how we should handle it."

"Yeah," he agreed, equally out of breath. "We'll... We'll learn to handle it." His words were for his own assurance more than they were for mine, but they still did the trick.

"With time." I gave him a small smile, relocating his shirt and jacket back in place for him not to get cold. "We'll get a hold of it."

"Y/n?" I hummed, cueing him to keep talking. "If you throw yourself in front of another grenade—"

"I'll try not to." A coy grin made its way to my face while we gazed into each other's eyes. "What made you change your mind?"

"You're extra hot when you lose your temper." He half joked, leering at me, which earned him a playful shove. He let out a soft laugh, giving me a sweet kiss before pulling me into a tight hug that I quickly reciprocated. "Don't get hurt again." He whispered against my hair.

"Same goes to you." I responded, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

There was a moment of comfortable silence which was broken by Joe's words. "Y'know, I don't really know how to handle the situation but" he pulled away. "I think going out on a date is not a bad start."

"Any suggestions?" I questioned with eager eyes.

"They're gonna be a movie playing at the camp this evenin'." He suggested, picking another cigarette from the packet in his pocket and handing me another one before beginning to walk.

"I like the sound of that." I responded, thanking him for the smoke and joining him in his march.

"The cinema it is." He gave me a side look, a content smile dancing on his lips while he lit his own cigarette and then mine.

We would handle the situation.

#joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott #joe liebgott angst #joe liebgott fanfiction #joseph liebgott x reader #joseph liebgott imagine #joseph liebgott angst #joe liebgott request #ross mccall #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #hbo war

221 notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

YOU GOT ME, I GOT YOU

Summary: the European conflict seems to be coming to an end when Easy Company stumbles upon the true horrors of it. This terrible discovery shakes Liebgott to his core, forcing him to be pulled back by Y/n. Having some time alone with each other, their friendship, much like the war, appears to be reaching its culmination.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst (hurt-comfort)

Tags:

Band Of Brothers: @sparkyluz @chubbypotatoepie

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

Warnings: implied torture and abuse (yk the labor camp), violence, language

A/N: the universe knows why I wrote this idk, probably because that one scene of Liebgott delivering the message to the concentration camp prisoners and then breaking down makes me wanna give him a hug. Enjoy<3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Hey." I gently reached to hold both his hands, putting them away from his face. "Joe. Joe, c'mon." He frantically denied with his head still casted down, his shoulders shaking from the restrained sobs. "C'mon darlin'." My voice shattered, as he managed to meet my eyes with his bloodshot ones.

As if it was not traumatizing enough to have found this diabolical camp was meant to keep Jewish people and other minorities, we now were supposed to locked them back in and take away their food.

I obviously hadn't understood this by myself, as I was splitting up and distributing the food with Malarkey when Major Winters broke the news to Liebgott.

Webster, who had been standing by my side, was kind enough to halfheartedly translate what Joe announced to the prisoners.

Joe, out of everyone.

Once it was over, chaos and dispair began to reign in the awful place, and I lost no time to jump off the vehicle I stood in, rushing to get to Liebgott, who I had seen breaking down quietly in the truck he had climbed onto to be heard.

"I need to get you outta here right now." I whispered, squeezing his knees. Joe sniffed, shaking his head 'no'. "Yes, c'mon." I stood up on the truck and pulled him with me; for whatever reason, despite his words, he didn't fight back as I jumped off the vehicle and made him follow me.

The more we dove into the crowd of tortured people I had just surfed, the tighter Joe's grip on my hand and forearm became, as if it was the only thing stopping the man's legs from giving in.

I could hear his breath hitch everytime one of the prisoners touched him or grabbed his clothes. He was just a kid —just like all of us— who was not meant to see this.

By the time we made it to the door, Joe was jerking as a consequence of refraining the raw cries, and my forearm had turned numb. Half a minute felt like an eternity in that place.

"Web!" My friend quickly jogged to meet us, helping me carry Joe out. "Major Winters, sir, we have to—"

"Borrow our jeep, Y/l/n." I nodded at our leader. "Webster, you gotta stay. We need a translator still."

"Yes, sir." Webster helped Joe into the jeep and spun around. "Perconte! Can you drive them back?"

He walked away, exchanging places with Frank while I hopped into the backseat with Liebgott, who was not even near to calm down, but at least his hysterical shake had diminished a bit.

"It's gonna be alright, Joe." I attempted to calm him down, stroking his hair with one hand while the other remained hostage of his grip. "It'll be alright, you'll see. I'm here, okay? We're all here."

Once Perconte had driven us away from the camp, Liebgott folded on the jeep, his upper body falling over his thighs, his hands loosening their hold on my forearm.

I kept my fingers running through his locks; planting a kiss over his shoulder blade, I sat upright in silence, taking in the horrors of the war we had just beholden until the vehicle came to a halt.

"Okay," Frank jumped off the jeep and rushed to help Liebgott out, holding him until my feet were planted on the ground too. "I gotta return the— shit, Y/n!"

"What is it?"

"Your arm— Jesus."

I looked down at my forearm, bare due to my shirt being rolled up, to be met with a big ugly bruise all over it. Angry, tiny red crescent moons adorned the purple and blue marks like stars lighting the sky.

"It's alright." I assured both Perconte and Liebgott, whose face had just tinted a whole new hundred shades of horrified. "It's fine." I repeated, taking Joe's arm to lead him into the building we had occupied to spend the night.

"I gotta... Return the jeep."

"I'll be back in a moment."

"You don't have to." The technician responded, sitting back in the driver's seat. "We got it handled. You take care of him." I then nodded and took Liebgott inside, praying to be able to prevent him from caving in before we reached his assigned room.

To my surprise, midway through our way there, his sorrow changed into anger, that anger of his that would be triggered with the flip of a switch.

Liebgott sprinted upstairs, leaving me behind, and quickly disappearing from the halls.

I took my time to reach his door, hearing the scene from the outside, and deciding it was better to stay out of it. Joe was a sweetheart, but he could go off the rails very easily.

To be fair, after seeing what we had just seen, I too wanted to do what he was doing, but one of us had to keep a hold of themselves.

Not being able to delay my entrance any further, I stood on the doorframe, reaching it just as Joe was throwing one last punch straight through the wall, letting out a rage-fueled cry before limply walking to plop down on the bed.

I took the end of the outburst as my cue to get in, and so, without saying a word, I got closer to the boy step by step, occasionally kicking out of my way shattered porcelain and pieces of the walls; justified casualties of Liebgott's temperament.

Once I stood before him, much like I had done at the camp whilst in the truck, I crouched to move his rifle, thrown on the floor, away from his feet— this caught his attention; his eyes, covered by his hands, peeped at me as I moved.

"May I?" I questioned, motioning at his bloody knuckles as I stood upright. He only clenched his jaw, averting his gaze from me, and let out a grunt. Coming from him, that meant allowance.

My fingers traveled to his hair, soothingly combing through the locks a couple of times, triggering his eyelids to inevitably flutter at the touch. "I'll go grab a wet towel." I whispered, halfheartedly abandoning him in the messed up room in order to head to the bathroom.

As I opened the faucet, taking a soft towel from the rack by the sink, one thing disturbed my mind; the thought of those people we had left in that hellish place. Anger began to cloud my judgement, the state of the outcasts had been imprinted in the back of my brain.

"Jesus Y/n, put the poor towel down." I turned to the door, where I found Liebgott leaning on the doorframe, still downcast, though he seemed calmer. "You're gonna rip it." He pointed at the piece of fabric in my hands, already soaked in water, tightened due to my unconscious grip which I automatically loosened.

I cleared my throat, wetting the small towel once more before bending my neck to the side, prompting Liebgott to come in, which he did.

"Come." He walked to stand in front of me, sort of leaning on the sink, rather than sitting on the toilet as I would have wanted him to.

Just as I was pulling his hand up to clean the knuckles, he yanked the cloth off my hands, holding up my forearm arm instead.

I sighed, trying to take back the towel, which was in vain, given that he extended his hand as far from me as possible. "Joe—"

"Y/n/n, my hands are just fine," he talked back, scrunching his nose without meeting my gaze. "so will ya let me fix this?"

"Yeah, okay." I indulged him, knowing more often than not, healing others feels easier than healing yourself.

He limited himself to thoroughly clean the little crescent moons left on my arm, taking way more time than needed for them to be alright.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, turning to unnecessarily soak the cloth again before returning his attention to the light marks. "I didn't know I was—"

"I know."

We stayed in silence for a while, him focused on my bruised arm and me examining the boy. It was only when the silence because unbearable that I decided to speak.

Only that, right when I was about to open my mouth, Joe let out a ragged exhalation, sniffing instead of taking the air back in.

He was crying.

"Lieb?" His motions came to a halt when I placed my free hand on his cheek, stroking it and wiping his tears away. He leaned into my touch, shutting his eyelids and taking in a sharp breath. "Alright," I took the cloth and threw it behind him. "C'mere." I whispered, gently tugging him to me by his wrists instead of his hands to wrap my arms around him.

His own arms mimicked mines, pulling my upper body flush against his, squeezing me as tight as possible. "They looked like... cattle..."

Unable to come up with a proper response, I stayed silent, deciding that giving him the comfort he needed to be vulnerable and a shoulder he could cry on were better than words.

We stayed like that for a hot minute until the tears stopped and his body, which had eased due to the embrace, seemed to go stiff again. I identified the change of demeanor even before he spoke.

"I'm gonna find 'em—" he growled the words in my ear, his chin on top of my shoulder.

Joe was alternating between sheer agression and unbearable grief; best case scenario, he would end up exhausted. Worst case scenario, he would go to prison.

"Joe." I pulled away, just enough to meet his gaze. "You can't do anything stupid." I raised my brows at his gritted teeth, cupping his cheeks.

After an instant of confusion, realization of what I meant flashed through his gaze, and he sneered. "You're kiddin', right?" His hands dropped from my body and traveled to hold onto the sink behind him instead. "They're Nazis."

"Nazis or not, they're most likely P.O.W.s now." I warned in a low voice, folding my arms over my chest. "You'll get court-martialled."

"Everyone's seen the camp." He retorted bitterly. "No one's going to court-martial me for finding the motherfuckers who ran that shit."

My gaze was severe on the man in front of me. "I'm askin' you to stay out of this one."

He looked me up and down before averting his eyes, turning his face to the side. "Don't ask me that."

"Why not?" He muttered under his breath something intelligible before pushing himself off the sink, forcing me to step back.

"You saw what they did to my fucking people, Y/n." The restrained emotions slipping through his growl threatened to go off again at any given moment.

"I know how much you're hurtin' but—"

"NO YOU DON'T! YOU HAVE NO IDEA!" He shouted, pointing an accusative index finger at me.

"YES I FUCKING DO!" I yelled back, the pent up frustration flooding out of my mouth and body language as I pushed him back. "MY MOTHER IS A JEW, ALRIGHT?!" That information seemed to take him aback— rightfully, since it was something I had decided to keep to myself.

I took a deep breath, allowing to put myself together before speaking. "We didn't go through Normandy, Holland, through fuckin' Bastogne— for you to get court-martialled now that we made it into Germany."

Our eyes were locked now, and the tension could be cut with a knife.

"We all want 'em dead, but I will not let you go to prison for killing a fucking Nazi!" I spat, teeth gritted and angry tears welling my orbs at the thought of one of my best friends getting imprisoned for seeking justice.

I had managed to shut his mouth, but not with my words; it was the look in my eyes that left him speechless, I just knew. I had poured a bit too much of my feelings out due to the fear of losing him in the most idiotic way; Joe had caught on it, and was unable to properly register and or react to that information.

"You stay here, I'll go back to the camp— and clean your fuckin' knuckles." Taking his silence as my advantage to escape, I stormed out and started to make my way downstairs.

He didn't follow me right away— probably because he had taken a moment to wash the blood off his hands—, but I soon heard steps behind me, followed by a soft call of my name.

"Y/n, wait." And I did, because no matter how stubborn we both were, if the other asked for something, we would comply. "you didn't tell me."

"I told no one." I confessed, turning around and looking up to face him, as he stood a couple of steps above me on the narrow stairway. "I had enough on my plate, I didn't want that to add up." I, quite ashamed of my behavior, muttered.

"Still." he carefully walked down stand before me.

"Look, doesn't matter, I was just tryna make a point." I explained, shoving my hands on my pockets. "I know what we saw is... Beyond unforgivable, but you can't get yourself into that. We've gone through enough," My voice got softer the further I explained. "I need you to make it home safe, okay?"

"Y/n/n, you're gettin' worked up over nothin'." He responded, making my eyes snap at his, which were already digging on my form. "We both know if you ask me to do somethin', I will." I would have doubted his words, but given the hidden frustration in his tone, I knew he would listen to me this time too. "I'm— guess I'm sorry I took it out on you."

There was an instant of understanding between the two of us. Liebgott was known to get into spats and fights, but he rarely apologized. He had apologized twice in a row, which meant something for him and for me.

"You're a mouthful." I stated in a more lighthearted voice.

"You love that 'bout me."

"Don't go cocky on me, Lieb." He chuckled at my warning, holding my gaze in anticipation.

It was obvious we both wanted to overcome the nonexistent width of the corridor between the two of us; we just didn't know how to save that distance, neither physical nor emotional.

"I better head off." I whispered, a small smile curling up my lips.

"Uh-uh." He caught my hand as I climbed downstairs, intertwining our fingers before giving me a yank strong enough to pull me back up. "If I'm not goin', you're not goin'." He stated in a smug tone.

"They need help." I argued, raising my brows at him, stare focused on his eyes in order to avoid it falling on his lips.

"So do I." He, on the contrary, had no problem to steal glances at my mouth, unconsciously and very slightly bringing me even closer. "Who's gonna stop me from killin' Nazi C.O.s if you're not here, huh?" He joked.

"Joe..." I looked away, down at the main door of the building, only a few steps down from where we stood.

"Y/n, listen." Liebgott's tone dropped the joking demeanor to turn serious, almost concerned in a way. "You got me, I got you. That's how we always do it, isn't it?" I gave him a slow nod, my head casted down until his index finger and thumb held my chin to raise it. "Then, let me keep you here with me." His thumb caressed my jaw. "Can't stand to see your pretty face all dull and pale again." He whispered, referring to our time in Bois Jacques.

Liebgott stopped his motions, freezing for a second, much like I had just done in the bathroom. This time, it was his feelings being a bit too much spilled out through his eyes, his touch, the tone of his words.

It took me aback. Now, don't get me wrong, I was not unaware of the fact that we both had let our friendship transform into something more intimate; I knew Liebgott's feelings for me were... Well, not entirely platonic, if you may —I just didn't know the magnitude of them until that very moment.

He regretted showing me, just like I had regretted showing him. "Just—" he began, dropping my hand and retreating his hold on my chin to scratch the back of his neck instead. "Feel like it's better for you to sit this one out." He cleared his throat, eyes fixed on our shoes. "Y'know, 'cause you—" He felt cornered now, but I didn't step away. "Your mother—"

"Joe," my hand traveled all the way up from his wrist to his bicep, dragging my fingertips over his shirt. "You're gettin' worked up over nothin'." I repeated the words he had spoken just a couple of minutes ago, saving the short distance between us while he laid his hands on my waist. "We both know if you ask me to do something," my free hand found his cheekbone, leaving my ghostlike touch over it because letting it fall on his chest, feeling his heart pounding as much as mine did. "I will."

"That so?" I shook my head affirmatively. "Well then," He swallowed, giving my sides a squeeze before bringing me flush against him in a much less innocent way than he had done previously in the bathroom. "Kiss me." He requested, bumping his nose against mine.

And I complied.

His lips felt like water in the dessert; his embrace felt like a warm blanket in Belgium's freezing winter. For a moment, I forgot about the camp; I forgot about Bastogne, about Haguenau, about Holland and Normandy.

I forgot we were at war, because at that moment, in that rickety staircase in Germany, I was at peace, and he was too, and that was the sweetest feeling we could have wished for.

#band of brothers #hbo war #joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #joseph liebgott x reader #joe liebgott fanfiction #joe liebgott angst #hbo war fic

202 notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

SMILE FOR ME (II/III)

Summary: a young promising war photographer is sent to document the Airborne's first missions on french soil, where she inevitably meets Easy Company, and Don Malarkey becomes immediately smitten by her. Lucky him, France wouldn't be the only place in which their paths would cross.

Pairing: Don Malarkey x photographer!Reader

Genre: angst fluff

Tags:

Band Of Brothers: @sparkyluz @chubbypotatoepie

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

Warnings: language and some innuendos

A/N: I had to make this one a three part instead of a two part for obvious reasons I don't want it to be packed, so enjoy this one my lovelies, third one will come after the Liebgott x reader fic <3

Part I

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"This coffee is terrible." I commented, my face constricting in disgust at the hot concoction Doc had just handed us.

"That's 'cause it's not coffee, Malark." Penkala scrunched his nose after smelling the liquidish content. "This is dirty water."

"We're fighting day and night at the front fuckin' lines," Muck complained, taking a chug of the drink. "and they can't even get us proper coffee?"

"I'll have yours if you don't want it." I spoke, raising my hand to grab my friends cup, only to have it being slapped away.

"Why'd you want it, anyway?" Penkala asked, leaning back into the gravel he was sitting against.

"To stay awake."

"Just go to sleep, Don." Skip suggested. "We'll wake you up whenever we gotta get going."

I pondered the idea for a second. "Tell you what," I left my cup aside and followed Penkala's example, resting on the rocks behind me. "I think I might listen to you for once."

It took me no time to start drifting off, but as my body and mind entered a state of doze, I started to hear laughs around me, which wouldn't have bothered me at all in any other situation, but it was accompanied by an odd sound, like a click of a—

"Shit he's awake." Penkala announced between laughs, gently kicking my shoulder.

Startled, I propped myself up, looking behind me at my two best friends, then to the front, where my glance had to go all the way up to meet Y/n's eyes.

A warm smile made its way to my face; what a wonderful way of waking up.

Y/N had been showing up on and off after our jump in Holland. Sometimes, she would come after the action had passed; more often than not, she came before the conflict, and therefore got caught on it a few times.

Our favorite war photographer would normally stay for a couple of hours, then she would either move to another company or head back to wherever Nixon took her, so we hadn't really gotten any time alone at all.

It's not like I was losing hope on making an actual move on her, but at this point, that idea had been stored in the back of my mind. I was content with seeing her from time to time, making sure she was alive, and maybe talk to her for a little, something that would actively keep her in my thoughts for the next few days.

"Good mornin', Sargeant." She greeted me with a grin.

"Good morning indeed, huh, Malarkey?" Nixon teased, passing by us. Due to Y/n moving with her almost every time they came to Easy, the intelligence officer had been having a tremendous good time while observing us. "Don't take too long, Y/l/n."

"Yes, sir."

I took the opportunity to dust off my uniform and while Y/n's upper torso was turned to Nixon.

"Long night?" She inquired, looking down at me with squinted eyes due to the sunlight.

"You bet." Penkala responded in an exhausted tone.

"Can I get you guys anything?"

"You got proper coffee and beds there?" I joked, pointing at her backpack.

"As a matter of fact, yes." She kneeled in front of me, leaving the bag open on the ground for her to dig into it. "There you go," she handed me a canteen with hot liquid, which turned out to be a way more acceptable coffee. "and about the beds," Looking left and right, she hesitated before speaking as low as possible. "I told you nothin' but you're being pulled back to Mourmelon."

"Really?" She hummed affirmatively; the three of us shared a weary, yet hopeful look. "When?"

"Dunno, but it won't take longer than a week." Y/n closed her bag and pulled herself back up with it. "They said it'd be good for the, quote unquote, 'company's morale'." We all scoffed at that. "Either way, seems like you'll be getting a well deserved rest."

"Y/n?" I got up too, shaking the dirt off my pants and pulling her a couple of steps away from my friends. "Will you be moving between companies still?" She shrugged halfheartedly. " 'cause I was thinking—"

"There's a couple of decent bars at Mourmelon." She stated, toying with the leather strap of her camera.

I stared at the girl, perplexed. "You still want to...?"

"Of course." She confirmed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Y/N c'mon! get to work!" Nixon's calls for the photographer always seemed to come in the wrong time for us.

"Coming, sir!" She gifted me one last smile "See you in Mourmelon, Don." As she moved to walk away, her fingertips ghosted over my hand, drawing a line all the way up my forearm.

I had to restrain myself from holding her back and pulling her to me.

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

Y/N was right.

We were pulled back to rest at Mourmelon, which was a more than welcomed change for Easy.

However, there was a negative point to it; I had been in hopes to find the photographer already in the camp, but five days in, there was no luck with that.

Either way, I didn't dare to complain; we had hot showers, hot food, beds, a roof over our heads, and even fun pastimes, such as the one we were enjoying for the first time since we left Aldbourne —films.

I was genuinely invested in the movie, so I failed to notice —as always— the girl entering the improvised cinema, and whispering to switch seats with Perconte, who had no problem with that.

"Good movie, isn't it?" My head snapped at her voice, eyes wide at the way she sported that beautiful beam of hers that seemed to shine in the dark room. "I didn't wanna interrupt." She leaned closer so I could hear her whispers without bothering the audience. "Just letting you know that I'm here." She retreated to sit upright, still smiling —though her smile hid something more in it, something dangerous and alluring that I found myself craving.

"For how long?" This time it was me who was leaning on her, my hand unconsciously laid on her knee.

"I'm stayin' the night." She responded, her hand landing over mine, making me aware of where I had positioned it, before moving it up to her thigh. "Leavin' tomorrow evening."

"Really?" I groaned, letting my forehead fall on her shoulder for an instant.

"What is it?" Her hand abandoned mine over the woolen fabric of her skirt. "You really like the movie, dontcha?" She laughed it off.

"No funny business, Malarkey, I see ya." Joe Toye warned us, as he was sitting by my side, eyes staring straight into the movie. "I'm tryna watch this."

"It's not the movie." I explained, ignoring Toye. "I'm on duty tonight." I turned to watch the movie, defeated.

"Time's not on our side, huh?" She whispered, placing her palm on top of mine once more, just this time she picked it up and interlaced our fingers, which made my gaze return to hers. She looked just as tired, but her joyful smile persisted. "It's alright, I'll be back in a couple of days."

But I don't know if I will be, I thought to myself, but I refused to say it out loud because there was enough negativity floating in the air.

"Where're you going?" I questioned, a bit too loud.

"Malarkey, shut your mouth! Christ." Lipton hissed, looking over his shoulder to shoot me a glare.

"Can't tell you." Y/n replied, lowering her voice. The girl's statement made me narrow my brows her. "Won't be there for long, though."

"I'll hold you on to that one." Her eyes roamed my gaze, my thumb caressing the back of her hand.

"Jesus, just get a room!" Perconte whined.

The photographer muttered an apology before cutting the space between us one last time. "I'll let you watch the movie."

Her lips brushed my neck, very much purposefully before she pulled back, causing me to tighten the grip on her hand.

That seemed to amuse her, given the risqué, quieted laugh she left on my ear. "See you soon, Don."

And with that, she was gone.

I watched her go, gaping, with her laugh resonating on my ears.

"Y'know," Toye leaned over to talk to me. "I'd have offered to exchange turns so you could have a fun time." I turned to Joe with hopeful eyes, but he then added, "I won't do it 'cause you can't shut your goddamn mouth."

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

It was not a couple of days. In fact, it had been almost two weeks, and Y/n had yet to show up back at Mourmelon, which had started to bug me.

I had even headed to see Nixon and asked him if they had any news from the war photographer, but the only thing I got was that she was working in the Ardennes with the VIII Corps —which was odd enough—, and that she was alive.

Since fate seemed to enjoy messing with the both of us, Y/n, unbeknownst to me, had arrived at the camp one of the nights I had gone out for a drink with my friends, celebrating Bill Guarnere's return.

"—and then I see this stupid sonofabitch jumping the fence yelling he found a Luger." Guarnere explained to the replacements, a smug smirk on his face as he patted my back. "Where's the Luger, Malarkey?"

"Y'know, Bill," I started speaking with a grin of my own decorating my face. "you're a—"

"Don!" I turned to Skip, who breathlessly struggled to make his way to us. "How drunk are you?" The question sounded hilarious, but Skip's face had a worried frown on it.

"Uh... Not much?"

"He's just starting." Garcia explained.

"Good— listen, Y/n's here," my heart started to pound with excitement, the men I was drinking with giving me words of encouragement as I fixed muy uniform.

My proud smile, however, slowly faded, clearing the path for a worried frown when Penkala walked in with Y/n— a very, very dulled, visibly worn out Y/n who still seemed to keep up the smile.

"Hello boys." Penkala's hand on her back, rubbing it caringly over the layers of ragged winter clothing while Y/n's fingers fidgeted with the camera strap.

"Jesus, kid." Guarnere looked her up and down with a grimace. "You alright?" Y/n gave him a quick nod, her eyes briefly meeting mines to confirm that affirmative gesture had a blatant lie. "Hey buddy!" Bill called for the bartender, pointing at Y/n. "Fix her a drink!"

"Thanks, but I gotta go see Nixon." Penkala's hand fell from her figure as she patted his shoulder, letting him know she was heading out.

"Hold up," I took a swig of my beer before climbing off the stool, planting the jar on the bar counter. "I'll walk you." My friends moved aside so I could move out with Y/n, who muttered a quiet 'thank you' as I did so.

I didn't know what the photographer had seen, but I know Muck and Penkala's concerned faces weren't exactly good omens.

"What happened out there?" I asked tentatively once we were away from the pub, my hand ghosting over Y/n's back in our way out.

"War's hell." She limited herself to answer. "Better not talk about it."

"I'm here if you need to." She shook her head no, bracing herself; I could only imagine what she had seen in the Ardennes.

She was a war photographer, she had seen action with and without Easy, but we had never seen her so down and worked up.

Y/n's pace slowed and so did mine, as I was following her lead, until we came to a halt. "You got a 48 hour pass?"

I frowned at her out of the blue inquiry. "Yeah, why?"

"Malark!" We turned our heads to Luz and Perconte, who happened to be strolling down the street. "We're headin' to the cinema! Care to join us?!"

"Go on without me!" I shouted back, motioning them to keep going.

"Is that Y/n?! Hey Y/n!" Y/n, whose back was turned to the cheery boys, rotated to wave at them. "Glad to see ya back! Have fun Malarkey!" They both whistled at me, walking away amused.

"I was thinking, uh..." Y/n resumed her talk, clearing her throat; her gaze was casted down and her tone softened. "Well, have you ever gone to Paris?"

"No, but I wanted to."

"I thought we could... Go together?"

"Yeah!" I agreed, a bit too excited. I knew I had just made a fool of myself, but it was worth it, judging by the genuine smile tugging on Y/n's lips, triggering a laugh out of her. "That's— that's a great idea, actually."

The photographer's look raised from the ground to meet mine; we stood so close, facing each other, our eyes jumping from one another's lips to their gaze.

'Kiss her, you fool', a voice in the back of my head that sounded oddly similar to Muck's urged me, but I didn't listen. Somehow, it didn't feel like the right moment, with the girl in front of me all ragged and the liquor I had just drunk running through my veins.

"Alright well, I think" she sighed, taking a step back. "I'm gonna take a little walk before talking to Nixon."

"I'll head with the fellas." I responded, mimicking her movements in the opposite direction. "See ya tomorrow?"

"You can bet on it." She assured me, her spirits going visibly higher. "Enjoy the movie!"

"Enjoy the walk, Y/n!" Giving her one last smile, I pivoted, turning to stalk into the building where the cinema had been running for the past few weeks, with Paris and Y/n in my mind.

Not even twenty minutes into the cinema, we received the news we should have been used to by then; all passes were revoked— we were moving out.

During the impromptu preparations, I caught a glimpse or two of Y/n. She, as always, was either by Nixon's or Winters's side. We made eye contact once before they packed us in the trucks; she was livid, and something in her eyes screamed an apology that I failed to understand.

Until we made the final stop and hopped off the trucks and Y/n came to find me.

"I'm really sorry." She whispered, her eyes staring into my soul, full of regret. "I didn't know they'd send Easy."

My cold hands traveled to her arms, rubbing them in a reassuring way to try and calm the girl down.

I was about to ask what she was talking about, but before any word left my mouth Guarnere, who stood on the opposite side of the vehicle, demanded my attention, prompting me to observe what was happening across the road.

It all clicked then.

We were being sent to The Ardennes.

Needless to say, we didn't get to go to Paris.

#timezone reblog #don malarkey fanfic #don malarkey x reader #don malarkey #donald malarkey #donald malarkey x reader #band of brothers #hbo war #band of brothers fandom

65 notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

SMILE FOR ME (I/II)

Pairing: Don Malarkey x photographer!Reader

Genre: fluff (1st part)

Tags:

Band Of Brothers: @sparkyluz

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

Warnings: language (?)

A/N: I'm rewatching the tv series with my bestie and she mentioned how cool it'd be to have a war photographer showing up. This will be a two part of mostly fluff because I tortured him enough in a single oneshot. Also I've got a Luz x medic reader coming soon because Luz falling for the medic somehow sits right with me. Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"What's the fuss about?" I questioned with a confused frown, approaching Christenson and Guarnere with my rifle hanging on my shoulder.

I had been wandering around Sainte-Marie-du-Mont for less than half an hour, and I was coming back to an absolute ruckus of paratroopers who seemed to be revolving around something.

"Uh... there's a pretty gal." Christenson mentioned, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Drop-dead gorgeous kinda lady."

"A lady? here?" Skip questioned, coming from behind to join us. "She a nurse?"

"She don't look like that." Guarnere commented.

"War photographer!" Our attention was drawn to Penkala, who struggled to make his way through the exhilarated crowd to meet us. "She's a war photographer." He explained, thrilled as a little kid.

"I want a picture! Malark, Penk, c'mon." Skip tugged on my jacket, leading us three back into the chaos, determined to reach the lady, which he managed to do. "Hello sweetheart!"

"Oh— Hello!" she looked up from her camera, a big bright smile on her face, which was partially covered by some rebel strands of hair slipping out of her bun. "Name's Y/n, nice to meet you fellas!" She shook hands with Skip and Penkala, but when she extended her hand in my direction, it took me a hot minute to react.

People might say whatever about love at first sight, but I knew what I felt when I saw the photographer was a coup de foudre.

Penkala's elbow dug on my bicep, and I cleared my throat, giving her a firm handshake with what I was sure was the most idiotic smile ever; I could tell by her confused giggle. "Malark— Don."

"We call 'im Malarkey or Malark." Penkala clarified.

"But you can call him whenever you want." Skip intently winked at her, patting my back in a somehow encouraging way, while Penkala struggled to muffle his snort.

"Did you just... flirt on his behalf?" Y/n asked amused.

"might have." He winked at her again, this time more exaggeratedly, and we all laughed, though I could feel the blood rushing all the way up to my face.

"Well, what's a fella gotta do to get a picture from a pretty lady?" Penkala asked, throwing both his arms over Muck's shoulders and mines.

"The three of you?" I nodded, and she gesticulated for us to follow her. "Okay— here's good, lemme just..." She left her camera hanging around her neck and, placing both her palms on my arms, in order to slightly move me to the left, something that might have or might have not make my stomach flutter. "There you go. Smile for me, boys!" The three of us parted from one another once the picture was taken.

"Is there any way of gettin' our hands on that picture?" Skip questioned, pointing at the camera.

"Not until the film roll is developed." She answered, letting her camera hanging from her neck once again. "And that's not gonna be possible here."

"And after you get that done...?" Penkala tested the waters, eyebrows raised.

"I'll get you a copy as soon as I get back." She assured him, a soft chuckle of amusement leaving her lips, head tilted to the side as if showing genuine fondness towards us.

We all thanked her and attempted to make our way out of the crowd, but before I could try and follow Penkala's lead, Muck tugged me back.

"She caught your eye, huh?" I felt my cheeks turning pink, which made the already existent smirk in my friend's face grow larger. "Don't be stupid, Don, go talk to her."

I shook my head no. "What for? I'm sure she won't stay for long." Skip smacked me on the back of my head, earning a shocked 'ouch' from me. "What's that for?"

"Heard what she said?" A confused furrow formed between my brows. "'As soon as I get back'? She'll be back, so go talk to that pretty little thing before someone else has better judgement than you, boy."

Incoherent, anxious babbling came out of my mouth while Skip pushed me back to the center of the crowd, right before disappearing among them, probably going to join Penkala and the others.

My eyes landed on the war photographer, who was now taking a picture of Liebgott, Luz and Lipton.

I saw Luz ready to shoot his shot and a thought crossed my mind; 'to hell with it'.

"Y/n!" She spun to face me without missing a beat, that bright beam of hers still lighting up her face and the whole town if you asked me. "Mind if I keep your company while you work?"

"Not at all, Don." I blinked a couple of times, somehow shocked that she had learned my name. "Maybe you can help me a bit get these boys organized?"

"Whatever you need." I assured her, asking Lipton for help to do that, as he ranked higher than I did. "May I ask for how long we'll have you here?"

"Why? Am I too much of a disturbance?" She half joked, though I could appreciate some worry on her question.

"I just wanna know how much time do I have left to convince you to go dancing with me."

She took her attention away from the camera, clearly dumbfounded by my straightforward statement, but to be fair, I was equally shocked.

"Oh boy, you need no one to flirt on your behalf." She laughed, and behind the teasing, I could hear some nerves. "Sadly, not a lot. I'm being pulled back in a few hours."

"Sadly, huh?" I quirked an eyebrow, easing up to her already. She only shook her head with the corner of her lips still twisted up, and commanded a few privates to smile for her before taking a picture. I waited for her to take a couple of pictures, not wishing to be an impediment in her job, before asking another question. "Where are you from, Y/n?"

"I'm from Y/c." She answered, motioning me to move with her away from the group in order to take wider shots of the soldiers. "What 'bout you?"

"Astoria, Oregon." She kept walking, and I kept trailing after her. "Will you be going back there?" I most likely looked like a lost puppy following her around, but I didn't mind, and by the looks she periodically gave me, she didn't either. "To Y/c I mean."

"Are you worried I might be too far away?" She teased, sparing me a single look. A sheepish laugh left my body before I could say anything, which she seemed to enjoy. "I'll be staying in Aldbourne."

"Oh, that's great." She snorted, raising her eyebrows at my out of the blue high-pitched tone.

"That's great?" She repeated, still smiling.

"Yeah," I enthusiastically nodded. "I just have to make it back alive."

"I'm sure you will."

I grimaced, scratching the back of my neck. "Not so sure about that, but I hope so."

Her looks had been cheerful and outgoing so far, very uplifting, but as soon as I said that, her gaze softened and turned a little more serious. It was as she extended her hand to hold mine, offering me reassurance that it dawned on me.

She was a war photographer; she had seen the horrors of war, just like us —maybe even more—; she understood the fear and dispair and had tried to lift our spirits as much as she could.

"Don't think about it too much, Don." She advised me, rubbing the back of my hand with her thumb. "Take care of each other and be careful." I only nodded, captivated by the feeling in her voice. "In Aldbourne you'll have plenty of time to convince me go dancing with you." She teased, making me chuckle. "Though I don't think it'll take a lot of effort."

"Is that so?" My chest swelled with pride and my eyes flickered with excitement, but before she could respond, Nixon called her name and she took off. "I'll see you around!"

"Yes you will!" She responded jogging away.

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

Sitting on the wooden bench inside of that warehouse, my torso half turned to the side and my eyes and attention fixed on Liebgott, I didn't acknowledge the girl with the camera crossing the entrance with Nixon, greeting some of the boys she had already met and the ones she had yet to meet.

"Hey Y/n!" My head snapped at Skip's voice, just in time to catch him shooting up and walking a beeline to the war photographer.

I didn't even notice the beam that appeared on my face when I saw her bickering with my friend about something I couldn't make out, though knowing Muck, it was probably about the picture she had taken of us.

Their conversation quickly took a turn, and now Skip was pointing behind him, Y/n's eyes following the indication to meet mines.

I took that —and Talbert's push— as a cue to stand upright and walk to them.

"Don!" I wanted to believe her smile grew wider and brighter when she pronounced my name, waving her hand at me; mine sure did. "Told you you'd made it."

"Y/n, 'bout the pic—"

"Jesus Christ, buddy," I cut Skip off. "Let her do her job, annoying sonofabitch." The boy only spun to me and mentioned something in a mocking tone about me trying to get Y/n's attention, which earned him a shove on his way back to his table. "Sorry 'bout him."

"Nah, it's fine I like that kid." She assured me, sounding authentic. "How are you?"

"Well for starters, I'm alive and in one piece, and that's always nice, isn't it?" A soft laugh escaped her lips —such a heavenly sound. "I also got a weekend pass for the first time in forever."

"Any plans for that one?" I couldn't tell if she was genuinely curious, or if she was testing the waters before proposing something.

God, I hoped it was the second one. It would be much easier to continue what I was about to say.

"Well, you said you were in Aldbourne and," I rubbed my hands in anticipation, something she seemed to notice by the look of amusement in her beautiful gaze. "I was hoping to run into you."

"How come, soldier?" Maybe she didn't pay much attention to the step she took in order to stand closer to me, but I did.

"Well," I felt my heart pounding on my chest, threatening to leave my body. No lady had made me this nervous ever. "I thought maybe I should resume what I started back in France and, y'know,"

"Convince me to go dancin' with you?" She finished, the corner of her lips twitching up in anticipation and her fingers toying with the strap of her camera.

"That's right, miss."

"In that case, I'll save you some time." She leaned on me an whispered in my ear, "you can convince me over a drink or two this Saturday." Sending chills through my body. "Yeah?"

"Sounds like fun to me." I tried to sound as confident as possible, to avoid coming off as the bundle of nerves she had just turned me into. "You know this pub—"

"Couple of announcements, men!" Lipton's call cut me off mid sentence. "First, the training exercise scheduled for 22:00 has been cancelled."

There were cheers all over the place, and my attention quickly turned back to Y/n, about to suggest to take her out that same night, but Lipton resumed the announcements.

"Secondly, all passes are hereby revoked." The smile that had been dancing on my lips fell, and so did Y/n's. "We're heading back to France."

"Shit." I couldn't help but whisper, my eyes on Lipton once more.

Y/N poked my arm and gave me a small smile. "We'll reschedule it for when you come back."

"So, pack up all your gear," Lipton continued. "we will not be returning to England, boys."

"Well fuck." It was time for Y/n to cuss. As she sighed, I looked over my shoulder at my friends who, as I suspected, had been observing me. Skip's lips were pursed, giving me a sorry look. "It's alright— you're still free tonight, aren't you?"

"Yeah!" I exclaimed, way too eagerly. "So, the pub I was talking 'bout." She nodded, that bright beam reappearing on her face, though this time it seemed a bit forced. "If you'd like to, we can go there and maybe have a drink—"

"Y/l/n." I was about to finish the sentence, but I quickly realized by the roll of her eyes that Y/l/n must have been her last name. "Sorry to interrupt, Malarkey," Nixon walked in between us and turned his back to me; I then stepped away in order to give them some privacy, and headed to the table where I had been sitting.

"No dice with the lady?" Luz asked, to which I shook my head no. "Cheer up, boy, there's plenty of— oh she's comin'." I turned around just in time to see a very downhearted Y/n walking to me.

"Turns out I'm the one who's not free tonight." She pointed at her camera. "Gotta get to work."

"Oh." She gave me an apologetic look, and I didn't know what to respond, so we fell into a tense silence.

"Hey, it's Y/n right?" Talbert questioned behind me, which made Y/n snap back into her charming, affable manner that she seemed to have while working.

"That's me, yeah."

"Can you take a picture of us together?"

"Of course!" She stepped back, holding up her camera. "You're gonna have to squeeze up a bit." Guarnere tug me down by my sleeve so I'd be kneeling instead od standing, and they all did as we were told. "Perfect. Smile for me!" The click of the camera was heard, and we all went back to our previous positions. "Beautiful. See you around, boys!"

Just as she attempted to walk away, and I proceeded to climb back to my seat, George spoke.

"Hold up hold up!" We both turned to him, seeing him standing up and jogging to meet Y/n. "May I take a picture of our ravishing photographer?"

The girl hesitated, her eyes rightfully squinted at Luz. "Careful with the camera."

"Don't worry 'bout that." She prudently took the camera strap off her neck to hang it on Luz, who now held a pleased grin. "Okay, Malark, get your ass here!"

I shared a confused glance with the photographer, who seemed as lost as I was, while the boys made me stand up and shoved me to the front so I could join Y/n.

"I just gotta press this, right?" Luz inquired, studying the camera.

"Well, you also gotta— hold on." Y/n moved in George's direction to teach him exactly how to take the picture. I took that chance to take a look at my friends, who seemed to be enjoying the situation a bit too much.

"Click and push then, right?" The girl nodded. "Okay I got it, c'mon buddies, let's take the picture!"

I cleared my throat, not really knowing where or how to situate myself, until Y/n spoke.

"Don?"

"Yeah?"

"You can hold me."

"Oh okay." I could hear the muffled cackles from the tables at our left —which honestly were quite contagious— as I passed my right arm behind the small of her back, letting my hand rest on her waist.

"You're gonna have to squeeze up a bit!" The technician mimicked the photographer's voice, making both of us laugh.

Before I could pull her a bit closer, she turned slightly to face me, her left hand on my back and her right hand placed on my shoulder.

"Hey Don." I hummed at Y/n, prompted her to talk. "Smile for me?"

My mouth curved up even before my brain ordered it to, as if my body obeyed her more than it obeyed me.

"Okay fellas, say cheese!" Right before Luz pressed the button, Y/n's lips softly landed on my cheek, making my grin grow wider.

The camera's button clicked, and as George followed the instructions Y/n had given him, the girl, pulled away just enough for me to be able to turn to her.

"That's one pretty smile." She said, with a much more beautiful one dancing on her lips, the ones that had just been pressed on my cheek, imprinting a kiss I would carry with me to France.

"Look who's talkin'. Yours gotta be the brightest smile I've ever seen." I was able to play off my sheepishness, but her sudden bashfulness shun through her now pink cheeks.

"Okay I gotta... Head to work." We disentangled from each other for her to go get her camera. "Good luck in France, boys!"

There was a chaotic wave of different variants of 'thank you's and 'take care's from the soldiers to see off the photographer as she jogged out of the place, where Nixon waited for her, observing with knowing eyes the whole scene.

"See what I did there?" Luz questioned, delighted with his own actions. "Now she got a picture of you."

"She got a picture and Malark got a kiss." Skip added, wiggling his eyebrows at me and causing our friends to simultaneously mock me by loudly awing.

"Y/n and Don," Muck sang.

"Sitting in a tree," Luz joined in.

I buried my face in my arms with a groan, still unable to remove the smile from my sore cheeks while my friends chanted the children's song.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Talbert patted my back. "Cheer up, Malark." He said laughing.

Oh, but I was cheered up, the most cheered up I had been in a long time, and it was all thanks to a chaste peck on the cheek.

I spent that night thinking of Y/n, torn between wishing she'd come to us and wanting her as far from the front lines as possible.

For better or worse, the decision was not mine to make, not hers; Fate would tell whether our paths would cross again or not.

113 notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

'BOUT DAMN TIME

Request: Could you write some George Luz fluff where he and the company’s female medic have had crushes on each other since Toccoa and their feelings come out while watching Trigger for Talbert while in Holland (set around the Crossroads episode)?

Pairing: George Luz x medic!Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Requested by: @carpediem1219

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

Warnings: language and I think that's pretty much it(?)

A/N: Joined this fandom for the amazing miniseries, stayed for cinnamon roll Don Malarkey and cute clown George Luz so here we go. Thanks for the request love! Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"What's with the gal?" I questioned, toying with my breakfast, my attention fully laid on the one girl that had very recently joined us in most of our training at Camp Toccoa.

"Dunno, Luz, what's with her?" Perconte asked monotonously, eyes fixed on a book held in his hand.

"What's she doin' here?"

"Well—" Guarnere elbowed perconte before he could get any word out.

"why dontcha ask her, Luz?" He suggested with a half smile.

"Yeah, Luz, go ask the lady."

"C'mon, Luz!"

"Yeah, go ask her!"

Spurred by my colleagues, I shot up sporting a cocky grin and attempted to make my way to the almost empty table in which the intriguing lady sat.

On my way there, however, Liebgott thought it would be funny to trip me, which triggered a burst of muffled laughter from the table I had just left, and simultaneously startled the poor girl, as I fell right by her table.

Quickly pulling myself up to sit by the girl's side, I greeted her, sounding as suave as possible. "Mornin', miss."

"Mornin'...?" She replied, staring at me with a shocked and confused glance, her brows knitted. "Are you okay?" She questioned.

"Wha... Yeah!" I scoffed, making myself comfortable in my new seat. "It was intentional." I blatantly lied, making her snort.

"Sure it was." She then stayed in silence, attentively observing me, and it dawned on me I had to say something.

I cleared my throat and attempted to sound unironically smooth. "May I ask" she quirked an eyebrow —not exactly a good signal, but I kept on going nonetheless— "What's a girl like you doin'—"

"In a place like this." She finished, ruining my line. "get a bit creative maybe."

Scratching the back of my neck, I subtly turned distressed to my friends, who I found hiding their amusement; they all gave me a thumbs up, some mouthing 'you got this'.

Very helpful.

"So—"

"I'm a medic." She responded before I could formulate the inquiry. "Name's Y/n Y/l/n. And yours is...?"

"George Luz." gifting her a way more eased smile, I extended my hand to her.

"George Luz, huh?" She firmly shook my hand, reciprocating the smile while her eyes scrutinized me. "Wanna have breakfast with me, Luz?" I enthusiastically nodded, earning a soft chuckle from her.

I knew it right away; that ought to be one of my favorite sounds in the whole world.

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

"HEY Y/L/N!" I leaned on the trembling medic from behind, given that I stood after her in the jumping line. "YOU ALRIGHT?!"

"I'M AFRAID OF HEIGHTS!" She confessed, spinning her head only enough for me to hear what she was saying.

It took me a hot second to process, and once I did, I couldn't help but snort. "AFRAID OF HEIGHTS?!"

She then attempted to fully turn to face me, and her fuming gaze was met with my amused one. "I'LL KILL YOU AND MAKE IT LOOK LIKE AN ACCIDENT!"

"OH C'MON, Y/N!" I reached for her bicep and rubbed it reassuringly. "IT'LL BE OKAY, YOU'LL SEE!"

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

Y/n was as scared as the first time we jumped during our training— maybe even more, but so was I.

So were all of us.

I couldn't reassure her this time, but actions speak louder than words sometimes; taking a deep breath, I gave her leg a couple of taps. Startled, she snapped her head at me, here eyes wide. I cued her to stare down, where the back of my palm rested on her thigh.

No words were needed for her to understand what I was offering, and she waisted no time interlacing our fingers with a grateful look on her gaze.

I gave her hand a squeeze of rather fake comfort —though I didn't know who I was trying to comfort— and let my head fall back.

Unbeknownst to me, we would endure endless teasing on Harry's behalf for that little move after the arduous jump.

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

"Y/n Y/l/n in the flesh!" I shouted, jogging to the front of the tank where our medic was sat. "And in one piece, lads!" I dramatically announced.

I helped her get off the war vehicle by holding both her hands, offering her support and balance —and maybe, just maybe, to bring her close to me and linger on her touch.

"We were about to—" my eyes widened when the girl engulfed me in her arms; after the initial shock, I lost no time to reciprocate the brief hug. "Start dividing up your belongings— ouch!" I took my hand to my left bicep, which had just taken Y/n's punch.

"You thought me dead?!" And which belongings, asshole?" She reached out for the bag that rested on the tank "all I have's pinched."

"Thievery won't be tolerated in this company!" I dramatically exclaimed, impersonating Sobel.

"You're a clown," Y/n stated between chuckles. Everytime I made her laugh, my heart swelled a bit. "I'm glad you made it, Luz."

"Of course you are."

"Hey Y/n/n!" Talbert called for the medic from behind me. "Mind checking this? Think it might be infected."

"Comin'!" She spared me an apologetic smile, passing by me in Talbert's direction. "Let's see what you got... Yeah, 'm afraid it's infected. Hold on Tab, we'll fix it real quick—"

"Man, just tell her." Perconte, who had sneakily approached me, urged me.

"Have you gone mad?"

"Well what you gonna do? Observe her forever?"

"Uhh yeah."

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

READER'S P. O. V.

"Christ." I let out a soft chuckle at the panting Technician, exhausted from all the jumping and running. "That's a handful, right there." He stated, making his way to sit besides me on top of a couple of piled trunks.

After about half an hour of watching over a restless, eager-to-run-outside Trigger, and seeing how the dog had determined to ruin the Platoon's bags, George had taken an interesting approach; exhaust the dog.

"You could've helped, you know?"

"You seemed to be handling the situation just fine." I feigned obliviousness to his worn-out self, which triggered a piqued scoff that held no actual resentment whatsoever.

In all honesty, I doubted Luz could hold any kind of resentment towards his friends for longer than a couple of hours.

"Hold on, I'll bring you some water." I resolved, hopping off the trunk in order to grab one of the recently refilled canteens from the table.

On my way back to Luz, I was met with a way much appeased Trigger, which walked with me until I reached the trunk; once I had sat back down, and proceeding hand the canteen to George, the dog laid on his stomach at our feet.

"Good job." I praised the boy.

"Is that surprise I hear?"

"Well, it's shocking that you can do something apart from good impersonations and being lucky."

"Jesus, Y/l/n."

"I'm kidding, Luz."

"Good, 'cause I'm good at a lot of things."

"Such as?"

"Flirting." He winked at me intently, but I couldn't bring myself to read between lines.

"Okay, flirt with me then." I couldn't believe the sentence that had just left my lips. Thankfully, with George Luz, everything could be played out as a joke.

"You're shittin' me?"

Being too scared to tell the truth, whilst simultaneously not being able to lie any longer, I chose to chuckle and look away; even though I felt his eyes fixed on me, I desperately hoped George wouldn't be able to read me.

"I've been flirting with you for a year."

I gave him a dazed look, trying my best not to let my hopes get too high. George was my friend.

Just my friend.

"Okay, not good at flirting I guess." I frowned, not quite understanding what he meant by that. "I'm good at dancing."

"Wait what?"

"Yeah, I'm a good dancer."

"No I mean—"

"C'mon Y/l/n, let's dance." He tugged both my hands with a playful smile that barely hid the disappointment in his eyes. "Bless 'em all, Bless'em all," he began to swing my arms, singing. "The long and the short and the tall— c'mon Y/n!"

It would have been amusing, had it not being dawning on me that George Luz had actually been flirting with me for the past year, and he was, for once, not kidding.

"George!"

"What?!"

"Have you... Really been flirting this whole time?"

"Dunno, have I?"

"Luz!" I slapped his chest, annoyed, making him take a step back.

"Okay, yeah, I might have." He nonchalantly said, downplaying his sudden shyness.

"Why?"

His eyes widened as he let out a snort. "Wha— Because I fuckin' like you?" I took a step back in astonishment, "well, actually, liking is a fucking understatement, Y/n!" George seemed to be about to spiral out of... frustration? "you know, hell, I think I love you— and honestly, I don't buy you didn't come to that conclusion on your own because I was so painfully obvious—"

Cupping his cheeks, I pulled him into the kiss I had longed to give him since we first met at Camp Toccoa.

I attempted to break the kiss, but quickly changed my mind when I felt the warmth of George's hands resting on my waist, pulling me closer.

We were starting to get lost in each other's touch, deepening the kiss, when the door of the room was bursted open, making Trigger begin to bark again.

"JESUS— NOT IN FRONT OF THE DOG!" George and I simultaneously pulled away from each other after hearing Talbert's yells.

"Tab, calm down, the dog's—"

"Shut up, Luz!" I bit my lip, deciding to stay quiet.

George and I shared a buffled look at the sight of Talbert pampering Trigger, muttering something about how we were 'a couple of horny bastards' before taking the dog with him.

Once he was at the door, he turned to face us and, looking daggers at the both of us added, " 'bout damn time."

The moment he left, we both broke out in a fit of laughter, on result of the emotional rollercoaster we had just went through.

"Fuckin' Christ." Once the laughs started to die down, the Technician extended his hand to me, which I gladly took, and pulled me to him. "So... You like me?"

"Hell, I think I love you." I mockingly repeated his own words.

"Oh my god, Y/n Y/l/n loves me." Though he was obviously teasing, there was a kind of joy sparkling in his eyes that I hadn't seen before; that made my stomach flutter.

"Don't let it get to your head, Luz."

"Oh I'm definitely letting it get to my head." I playfully smacked his chest right before he brought me to him for another kiss, shorter and softer.

As I saw it, that kiss was some sort of celebration of a new beginning between us.

123 notes · View notes

rogue-barnes-16 · 2 years

Text

BACK TO THE FRONT LINE

Request: hey luv could i request a malarkey x reader where the reader got shot in Bastogne and they meet again in Haguenau? w/ a happy ending and teasin from the boys?? thanks :3

Pairing: Don Malarkey x Reader

Genre: angsty fluff

Tags:

Requested by: @lordndsaviorwinters

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

Warnings: shooting, mentions of death, warfare (?)

A/N: jumping into this fandom knowing there's literally like three of us and that's completely fine by me. Send in your requests and enjoy some angsty malarkey content <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Hey Web!" I called for the paratrooper, climbing with difficulty off a jeep which had been trailing after the one he had traveled on.

"Y/n/n!" His excitement to see me turned into s worried, confused frown after he acknowledged I was not riding on the trucks with the platoons. "What are you doin' here?"

"Got shot in Bastogne." I motioned at the side of my sore ribcage, still covered in bandages underneath the very much needed layers of clothing.

I double checked around me to make sure Roe hadn't spotted me; the medic would lose no time to try and send me back to the aid station, and I couldn't let that happen.

"So... you finally decided to join us huh?" I questioned, trying not to let out any kind of spite towards the poor boy whilst adjusting my rifle, hung on my shoulder.

"What'd you mean?" He questioned confused.

"Nothin'." I muttered with a shrug. Luckily, Webster paid it no mind and turned his attention to the back of the vehicle ahead of us, enthusiastically greeting our friends.

Later, I would feel guilty for turning a blind eye at the way the platoon treated Webster, but not in that moment, in which they didn't even held out their hand to him.

"Y/l/n, You crazy bastard." Bull called, redirecting the boys' attention to me. "What'd you think you're doin' here?"

"Couldn't leave you lot alone for too long, Bull, you'll get yourselves killed." I teased, throwing my bag on the truck and taking Martin's hand, which easily pulled me up, not without making me wince in the process. Meanwhile, Webster was dismissed by our friends to join another platoon.

"How's that wound, Sergeant?" The first platoon's Lieutenant asked; simultaneously, Randleman stood up for me to take his seat —an offer I couldn't exactly decline.

"Healing, Sir." I responded sitting down, struggling to relocate my bag so it would be caged between my feet.

Truth was, it was a relatively fresh wound; Eugene had explicitly explained I wouldn't be allowed to go back to the front line anytime soon, but I couldn't bring myself to stay in a hospital for any longer— not when my friends had been left behind into the freezing cold hellhole that was Bastogne.

"Take it easy then, yeah?" The blond man requested, patting my shoulder. "We can't have you back just for you to bleed out."

"Aye, Sergeant." I responded, giving him a half smile.

"Yeah, poor Malarkey wouldn't be able to take anymore loss." Cobb attempted to join in with what I supposed was meant to be teasing, but it didn't come off as that.

"Loss?" I questioned, fear creeping up my body and making my heart pump faster. "What- w-who— did we lose?"

"You sure got the gift of the gab, Cobb." Martin spat sarcastically, not even looking up from his boots.

"Muck and Penkala." Bull muttered, looking over his shoulder to nothing in particular; I figured he was just averting his gaze. "Right after you got carted off." In that moment, I was thankful to be sitting and not on my feet, or else my legs would have given in.

The sudden news hit me like a ton of bricks.

I wasn't as close as Malarkey to the two boys, but they were very good friends of mine— or had been.

"I..." I cleared my throat, wiping the silent couple of tears that had rolled down my cheeks. "How's... How's Malarkey?"

No one replied; however, the absence of words could be taken as a reply in itself.

"It'll do him some good to have you back." Martin spoke, trying to throw some positivity into such a gloomy environment.

After that, we just rode in silence, each of us lost in our minds and forgetting to acknowledge the others.

Unbeknownst to me, Malarkey rode in the truck before us, just as tangled in intrusive thoughts as we were. Maybe Webster had mentioned my name to the second platoon, but if that had happened, Don had not listened to it, I could tell by his reaction when he first saw me.

Once we had entered Haguenau, Martin climbed off and offered me a hand to do the same, which I gladly took. The others followed our lead, leaving the army vehicle empty.

Bull awaited with me until the mortars stopped firing, covering both of our heads; after that, we both circled the back of the truck and, while he proceeded to rush into one of the buildings, I, on the contrary, stayed still just a few yards away from Malarkey, who nonchalantly pretended to listen to Webster.

He looked... Well, no better than the last time I had seen him.

"INCOMING!" I wasted no time to throw myself into the nearest foxhole at Lipton's yells. "TAKE COVER AND START FIRING!" swinging my rifle from my shoulder to my front whilst keeping my head low, I attempted to follow the Sergeant's orders.

Problem was, I didn't have ammunition.

"FUCK! Anyone got spare ammo?!" I shouted, holding my helmet and standing down until I obtained response from someone.

"YOU DON'T HAVE AMMO?!" Malarkey's voice came from the foxhole besides mine. "ARE YOU STUPID?!"

"SHUT UP, DONALD!"

"DON'T CALL ME DONALD!"

"THIS IS REALLY NOT THE TIME FOR QUARRELLING, LOVEBIRDS!" Penkala shouted in a mocking tone, to which both me and Malarkey responded with a very hostile 'shut up'.

"OKAY— HERE, Y/N!" When I peeked over, I saw Don attempting to crawl up and cross the ground between us.

"WAIT- DON'T!" I shrieked, panic rushing through my system when I saw that idiot propping himself up. Not so funnily enough, my first instinct was to do the same in order to reach him.

Everything happened so fast that I didn't even have time to process it properly.

I felt something knocking the air out of my lungs, followed by a sharp pain on my side.

I believe it was Luz who did his best to pull a horrified, livid Malarkey back into the foxhole after he tried to reach me; I didn't know who was the one pulling me back to safety, though— my vision got blurry really quick, and my ears were numbed by cries, stressed shouting and the same rapid fire that had taken me down.

"Hell, Y/l/n!" I was shaken back to reality by George's voice coming from behind me, catching not only my attention but Malarkey's too.

"Luz!" I gave the surprised Technician a small smile. "Missed me much?"

"Not a bit." I scoffed. "Who bailed your stupid ass out of the aid station?" Before I could respond, George's gaze traveled from me to Malarkey and back to me, this time with a grin. "Glad to see you're out and about." He patted my shoulder and walked away, crossing paths with a dumbfounded Malarkey. "Sergeant Bullshit." Don let it slide, making a beeline to me instead with knitted brows.

"Hey—" before any word could leave my mouth, both of Malarkey's arms were wrapped around me, a few inches above my wound, his rifle tossed on the dirty streets. "Hey..." I repeated, this time much softer while I mimicked his movements, letting my gun fall and engulfing him in a hug.

He briefly buried his face on my shoulder, and I could tell he was refraining himself from squeezing me tight.

Mortars were still being periodically fired into Haguenau, and chaos still reigned, but the only thing that seemed to matter to me was the shaky frame of the man in front of me.

Once we were apart, the redhead crouched to grab both our weapons, aware of our surroundings.

He gulped, opening his mouth like a fish out of water as he handed me the rifle, and I knew right away what he was about to mention.

"Skip—"

"And Penkala, I know." I finished, not wanting him to struggle in order to let me know something I already did. "I'm so sorry Don." I rubbed his bicep reassuringly when he casted his gaze down.

"MALARKEY!" His head snapped to one particular building I couldn't really see. "MOVE YOUR ASS OUT OF THE DAMN STREETS!"

"YES, SIR!" he shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him to take cover into another building.

He didn't let go of the hold he had on me as we passed some of our friends, who were quite shocked, yet happy to see me.

"Y/n/n!"

"Hey, Babe." I made Malarkey come to a halt so I could properly greet Heffron.

"Damn, Y/l/n." Liebgott entered the room with Ramirez. "Eager to see us, weren't you?" His eyes flickered to my fingers, intertwined with Malarkey's. "Well, some more than others." I felt my cheeks burning at Joe's teasing, but he didn't push further.

"Fellas, why don't we go see the basement for a bit, yeah?" Babe ever-so-subtly suggested, shamelessly winking at Malarkey before pushing his two friends out of the room.

"Wait," Malarkey's call made them all turn around at the doorframe. "Any of you, call for Doc."

"What?" My head snapped at Don as the rest dismissed themselves with a 'yes, sir', leaving the door ajar on their way out.

"You weren't discharged," He inquired, letting go of my hand in order to walk to the window and check the dilapidated streets. "Were you?"

Unable to lie to him, and discerning his intentions, I scoffed. "Y'know, you don't have the authority to send me—"

"Y/n, stop." He cut me off, a worn-out look on his gaze while he dug in his pocket for a smoke and a lighter. "I just wanna make sure you can actually walk."

"You don't need a doctor to know that."

"Yeah I do." He replied, pinching his nose.

"I got here on my own, didn't I?"

He stayed silent for a moment, sparing me a glance that carried some kind of plead in it, and sighed. "I really don't have it in me to argue with anyone these days." Don confessed. "Let alone with you." A pang of guilt weighed in my chest at the sight of him. "You can leave if you want to, first platoon's two buildings far from here." He informed me, having a puff from the cigarette he had just lit. "I'll tell off Roe."

"I'm sorry." He shook his head 'no' without making eye contact, and proceeded to sit down on a chair. "I just... I don't wanna be pulled back again."

I took a careful step in his direction, and then another one, and another one, until I stood in front of him.

"About..." I crouched to meet his eyes, but he still managed to avert his gaze. "About Muck and Penkala, if you wanna—" he shook his head 'no' again, this time more determined, as if the sole mention of their names haunted him. "Okay, whenever you're ready, I'm here."

I squeezed his knee reassuringly and took his free hand in mines, bringing it to me lips to place a kiss on it.

"I'm sorry you got shot." He mumbled.

"Not your fault."

"It was." Before I could deny it again, he insisted. "C'mon— You know it was."

Silence.

"Does it hurt much?"

"Mmm..." I debated whether or not I should tell the truth, but he leaned closer to me with warning eyes, and I knew it would be stupid to hide it. "A bit." He quirked an eyebrow at me. "Don't look at me like that, Malarkey."

Don pursed his lips on a thin line, a frown appearing between his brows. "Please—"

"I'll let Roe check on me." I cut him mid-sentence, before attempting in vain to way too quickly get up, which ended up in a grimace and a tightened grip on the Technical Sergeant's hand.

"Hey hey hey—" taking a hold of my forearms he carefully pulled me up. "You okay?" I, taking in a strained breath with my forehead on his shoulder, let out an unconvincing 'yes'. "Y/n."

" 'm alright."

As if he had been cued, Eugene bursted into the room, Heffron trailing behind him. "Goddamn it, Y/n! Sit her down!" Malarkey obliged, halfheartedly letting go of my forearms, yet managing to linger on my fingers while Roe examined me. "Didn't I tell you to stay back there? Didn't I? Why does no one listen to me?!"

"I do." Heffron pointed out, earning a very salty, intelligible response from the medic, who lost no time to remove the clothing in order to properly see the wound.

"Fuckin' Christ..." Malarkey muttered, observing how Roe fixed me the best he could.

"That bad?"

"You pulled two stitches." Eugene stated, standing up after rigging said stitches. "Get her up— you're coming with me."

"No!" I exclaimed, almost whined, when Malarkey's hands found their way back to me. "I can't leave— I'm not leaving." I'm not leaving you, I wanted to say, as I stared deep into Malarkey's eyes.

Such a brief interaction we had, yet it was long enough to realize he should be the one getting pulled out of the front line. If there was a chance of helping him, I would take it in a heartbeat.

Roe stepped away, cursing my name after Don gave him a nod which meant 'I got this'.

Malarkey's eyes fixed on me, and, flickering to check Babe and Gene were minding their business, he whispered in the quietest tone possible, "Darling,"

I looked down, knowing every word that would come out of his mouth after that; I became aware I wouldn't be able to say no to it.

"You wanna help me?" I gave him a nod, my gaze casted down while he whispered those words in my ear. "Well, then I need you to go with Eugene." My head fell on his shoulder once more, defeated, and one of his palms traveled to the small of my back. "I lost too many important people. I need you to be safe."

There was a moment of silence, followed by a soft sight from me when Don placed a feather kiss on my temple.

"I really don't wanna leave you here."

"I know." The Irish man knew he had won and this was me procrastinating the end of the discussion, so he signaled for Roe to come back to us and pulled away from me. "We'll meet again soon, Y/l/n."

"You better don't get killed, Malarkey." I warned him, wincing when Eugene threw my arm over his shoulders. "Or I'll bring you back to life so I can kill you again."

An amused chuckle left Malarkey's lips while he reached for another cigarette. "I'll take your word for that one."

I gifted him a bittersweet smile and said goodbye to him and Heffron on my way out; as I was carried to a safer place by the medic, I prayed to every god that ever existed for Malarkey to come out of this war unharmed.

Just like him, I wouldn't stand knowing he got hurt —or worse—, not after all we've lost in Bastogne.

#don malarkey request #don malarkey x reader #don malarkey #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #donald malarkey #don malarkey fanfic #george luz #eugene roe #donald g malarkey #malarkey x reader #band of brothers headcanons #bob boys headcanons #malarkey headcanons #scott grimes #hbo miniseries #band of brothers fandom #hbo war

147 notes · View notes