#band of brother ocs

[zivazivc]

so many brainworms about life in the troll tree and jd's adventurous side...

[felsicveins]

I think John Dory should have 7 (evil) exes and you have to defeat all of them in order to date him.

Choose your fighter 💥💪

[coldarena]

uniform studies + kit lists

[spicy-suns]

20 years alone will do something to your memories

(ft brozones mom)

[ryssbelle]

Poppy for N2 au, it took me so long to make her design cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to do only because I feel like her design is pretty perfect.

But then I just thought about fun outfits to give her or outfits that I would find comfortable if I was wearing them and it all came together.

Poppy here is pretty much the same as here movie counterpart, as nothing really changes on her end of things other than having more insight on Branch through his brothers, and through Lief. Shes also a bit more understanding a bit earlier on because of it but it doesnt do much to change her own character arc I would say.

Bonus

Part of Poppys design was based off a design I had made for previous rulers of Troll Village/Tree

Namely Queen Protea who I designed as Poppys grandmother

Named after the Protea flower which part of her design is based off :D

In the context of this Au Protea was the one who conceptualized the tunnels while her son, King Peppy, was the one to follow through after her death

[ask-brother-lawrence]

*She knocks on his door*

Brother Lawrence? It's Nyx, are you there?

- @asksisternyx

*Lawrence was still asleep when Nyx had knocked on his door. With a faint hum, he opened an eye and lazily got out of the chair before opening his room door.*

De quoi avez-vous besoin?..

*He murmured, looking down at her.*

[givemebackmypills]

[melonyofasshai]

[softspeirs]

on leave

A/N: Obviously this goes without saying that there's almost no historical basis for this interaction to happen, except that there's a brief window of time in the late summer of 1943 where Easy and The 100th could have interacted... but that's why I love fanfiction. Thanks to @basilone for enabling me. Meet my BoB OC Kat Gray. You can learn more about her in Barren Soul. No pairing for this fic except a hint at something if you take a cue from Bucky Egan.

"You know, it's nice that the Airborne finally decided to show up." Bucky says, tilting his head and gesturing with his glass.

They've been back from Africa for two days, and the brass decided everyone could do with some leave. They've got a few days in London while the new replacements arrive, and it seems that half the units in the US Army had the same idea.

This pub in particular is packed with soldiers, airmen, and civilians alike.

Next to him, Cleven and DeMarco share an aggrieved look.

"What?"

"Can you just--" Gale straightens his jacket, leans in, "--try not to start a fight? For once?"

"Don't count on it." Bucky grins.

A roar from the corner of the room grabs their attention, and they shift on their barstools to watch how the game of darts is getting on. There's a new addition to the roster, Bucky notices.

"You're a cheat!" A man says, and the woman in question raises her eyebrows.

"When have you ever known me to be dishonest?"

"The last time you gave me stitches and told me it wouldn't hurt."

She rolls her eyes. "That was an accident, and you're too sensitive, Luz."

"Interesting." DeMarco says under his breath. "You ever heard of a woman in the paratroops?"

Buck smirks. "What, you haven't read the papers? Experimental unit."

"Any girl who can jump out of a plane is alright in my book." Bucky says, as he takes another gulp of his drink, "Probably a little crazy, but alright."

They interrupted by a First Lieutenant who looks like he's already had a few, but all the same, he squeezes in on the other side of Benny, signaling the bartender. "Majors, Captain." He says, two fingers at his temple in half-hearted salute.

"You with the Airborne?" Bucky asks, louder to be heard over the band.

"101st."

"100th Bomb Group." Buck says, holding out his hand to shake. "Gale Cleven. This is Major John Egan and Captain Benny DeMarco."

"Lewis Nixon." The man says, a few pints set down in front of him by the bartender. Nixon looks up in thanks and then turns back to the men in front of him. "100th Bomb Group... you're flying B-17s, right?" He whistles. "I wouldn't know what to do with a plane like that."

"Jump out of it, probably." Bucky says.

"Nix--" a female voice interrupts them, "Need a hand?"

The woman in front of them is brunette, her hair tightly pinned and tucked beneath a garrison cap. Bucky instantly straightens, grin firmly in place.

"I wouldn't." Nixon mutters, giving Bucky a look out of the corner of his eye. Turning to the woman, his face softens a fraction. "This is Corporal Kathryn Gray."

Introductions are made, and Bucky can't help himself. "What's a girl like you doing with an outfit like this?"

Her eyes narrow, and he gets the feeling he's put his foot in it, though he was just trying to be funny.

"A girl like me?" She asks, her tone neutral, but that steel look in her eyes. "What am I like?"

"Christ." Nixon mutters, running his free hand over his face.

"What?" Gray asks. "Just making conversation."

"Just starting trouble, more like."

"Funny," Buck says. "We just had a similar conversation. He elbows Bucky in the ribs.

"All good over here?" Another Lieutenant appears, this one shorter, eyes hard. His reddish hair and sharp jaw make him stand out among the rest of the group, but Bucky's not stupid enough not to notice the way they're all glancing over to the bar, prepared to close ranks if needed.

He holds his hands up. "Just fine, Lieutenant--"

"Welsh."

Benny interrupts, ever the peacemaker. "Gray, what line of work you in? We were reading about the women paratroops in the paper the other morning."

She turns to Benny with a smile, and Bucky frowns. He had asked the same question! Well, he asked it his way, and Benny has that unassuming way of talking. Even though they're both from the Midwest, somehow Bucky just doesn't come off as disarming as his friend from Chicago.

"Medic," she says proudly.

"Tough job." Buck says quietly, though his lips are quirked to show he means no harm. "What made you go that route?"

"Dad's a doctor. And I wanted to help." She says simply.

"Kat!" A loud voice bellows from across the room.

"Duty calls." She says dryly. "Majors. Captain." She looks back at her own Lieutenants. "Sirs." She says, but it sounds sarcastic. Bucky blinks in surprise at her tone.

Welsh and Nixon both grumble and roll their eyes, neither of them making any move to admonish her.

"She sure made that sound like an insult." DeMarco says.

"Word to the wise, in case you ever find yourself with a woman in your unit-- and you will, soon enough--" Nixon says, "She'll call you by your rank, but don't for a second think that means she takes you seriously or will listen to anything you say."

"And it's useless to try." Welsh says, and holds up his glass for Nixon to cheers.

"Sounds like my kind of girl," Bucky agrees under his breath, and gets another sideways glance from Nixon before he makes his excuses and heads off with Welsh, the both of them greeted with cheers, slaps on the back, and sounds of approval from their guys.

"He was right--" Buck says. "I wouldn't."

Bucky frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Over there." Buck tilts his head in the direction of the opposite corner of the room. At a table with one other man, there's another Airborne Lieutenant. Dark hair, darker eyes, and he's tracking Corporal Gray as she moves in the room.

"Huh." Bucky settles back into his seat, elbow on the bar behind him.

Buck turns around, chuckling when Bucky curses under his breath. "Better luck next time, Romeo."

Bucky watches as Kat Gray as she flits between her men, an easy smile on her face. They nudge her and crack jokes, and all bravado aside, he can see why she fits right in. These guys clearly care about her, and she about them.

She shows it with a quick touch to one mans arm as she leans behind him to talk to someone else, as she winks at another guy who rolls his eyes and nudges her in the arm as he claims the seat on her right.

A half hour later, they're getting ready to clear out when Bucky sees her approach, an armful of empty glasses in tow. She sets them on the bar on the other side of him, and nods her thanks when he takes the last few from her hands.

"How long left on your leave, Major?"

"Just one more day. Then it's wheels up." He says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Good luck." She says simply. "I can't imagine what it's like up there."

Bucky feels the smile slipping off his face, but he does his best to try to keep it up. He doesn't want to think about flying right now. He doesn't want to think about Curt, or Buck flying in on no engines, none of it.

"You take care on the ground and I'll do my best in the air, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

He can't help it, he laughs. At her confusion, he grins. "I have it on good authority that when you say sir, what you really mean is--"

"Don't finish that sentence," Buck says, amused. "Corporal. Have a nice night. Good luck."

"You two, Majors." She says, and then she's off, a Sergeant and Nixon waiting at the door for her.

He sees the Screaming Eagle on her arm as she goes, and he shakes his head. "Lady medic."

"You're gonna need a medic if you don't get to bed soon." Buck mutters. "Let's go."

[blurredcolour]

Take These Broken Wings

Dick Winters x Enlisted!Unnamed Female OC/Reader

Trapped behind his desk, Dick finds out the unthinkable has happened to the woman he cares about. Now he has to deal with the consequences; first as her commanding officer and then as the man who loves her.

Warnings: MAJOR Canon Divergence, Angst, Implied Sexual Assault, Descriptions of OC/Reader Injuries, Discussion of Retaliatory Violence, Gentleman's Agreement Not To Prosecute, Period Specific Ideas about Honor and Protection of Women, PTSD, Weapons, Language, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Self-indulgent canon divergence with little explanation ahead, read at your own risk. Because of the sensitive nature of this fic, I chose to write it in the third person but only a nickname is used so it can be read as a reader fic. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within, particularly the Red Devils in this case!

Special Note: Dearest tag list, I have chosen not to tag any of you because this is so wildly different than my usual fics, I just wasn't sure who would want to read it.

Word Count: 4148

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

October 17, 1944 – Schoonderlogt, Holland

It had never been his intention to fall in love with her. With any of the female paratroopers in the 506th, for that matter. But like the slow erosion of a river carving a new path through bare rock, she had ever so gradually hollowed out a place for herself in his heart until all at once he realized he could not live without her. Of course, if one were to ask her, she fell in love with Dick Winters the first day they met in Toccoa, Georgia, sun scorching their skin, blazing his hair copper – or so she liked to remind him often.

His realization had not come until he’d found her halfway up a tree in Normandy, tangled in the lines of her parachute, desperately trying to slice herself free before she was discovered by enemy troops. The sheer panic he had felt as his mind flooded with all the possible ways he could have lost her that night had only served to drive home how deeply he cared for Peaches. Dick didn’t often use the nickname that Nix had bestowed on her; a nickname born of some sordid adventure involving cans of peaches that he’d decided he’d rather not know about. But he did love the way it made her nose crinkle when he slipped it into their stolen moments together. Moments that were becoming harder and harder to find now that he had been placed in charge of 2nd Battalion.

Several pages being laid on his desk by Zielinski tore Dick out of his inner musings and he lifted his pen to add his signature to the line where his Orderly pointed expectantly. Sink had assured him the paperwork would be ‘nothing to sweat’ but Dick was certainly sweating it now. The call of Nixon’s voice as he came up the stairs was a welcome reprieve from the rapidly multiplying stacks of paper on his desk, something that his friend seemed only too happy to point out.

Dick could only feel envy, mixed with trepidation and a certain amount of helplessness, as Heyliger informed him Operation Pegasus was preparing to launch in a matter of hours and he remained trapped in his combination office and bedroom in the attic. As the pair of them made their way down the stairs and out of the requisitioned farmhouse, Dick looked up from his typewriter once more as he heard Nixon’s bright greeting.

“Hey there Peaches, you’ve got something on your face.”

“Very funny Captain. Lieutenant.” He heard her voice reply and did his best not to grin.

“Zielenski, could you go grab a new box of pencils from the storeroom? It’s going to be a long night.” Dick swallowed, doing his best to come up with an excuse for two minutes alone with her, five if he was lucky.

“Yes, sir.” There was a note of confusion in the man’s voice but thankfully he complied, hustling down the stairs.

There was a moment of silence before he heard the door shut followed by the sound of her jump boots scuffing up the worn wooden steps, grinning as she was startled to find him waiting for her at the top of the stairs.

“And here I was thinking I’d surprise you…Who was that?” She glanced back towards the door, and he sighed, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it, how’re you feeling about this thing?” He asked softly, taking her hands in his.

“Should be fine, Moose picked mostly people who can swim, the Canadians are nice. That Colonel Dobie sure is handsome.” She teased lightly, lacing her fingers with his.

Despite her teasing tone, Dick still felt a little annoyed at the comment, particularly given the fact that the man was free to swim the river in reconnaissance and join the operation that night while he was a glorified paper pusher.

“Too bad for him I like ‘em tall as a stalk of corn and copper as a penny.” She leaned in to press her lips to his and Dick felt his eyes fall shut, tension that he’d been carrying for hours slowly ebbing from his body.

She pulled back with a soft smile before frowning apologetically. “Sorry my love I got grease paint on you.” She licked her thumb and swiped at his cheek like he was a grubby toddler, and he could not help the broad grin that stretched his features even as he felt his cheeks heat up at the term of endearment she’d only recently begun to use.

“I’ll get it in a moment, Peaches.” He muttered, glancing around to ensure they were still alone before sliding an arm around her waist to pull her close, kissing her soundly. “Be safe out there…don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…”

“Oh, like run across a field toward two companies of SS by myself?” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he pressed his lips together, still able to hear every word of her displeasure at being left behind for the agonizing seconds it took for the red smoke signal to appear.

“Especially that.” He muttered, clearing his throat and taking a step back as he heard the door open at the bottom of the stairs.

She quickly grabbed her handkerchief and soaked it with water from her canteen, passing it to him so he could scrub at his face, hopefully removing all evidence of their interlude.

“Pencils sir.” Zielenski held out the box proudly and she raised an eyebrow, introducing herself warmly to the Orderly.

“That’ll be all, Sergeant, good luck out there.”

“Thank you sir, appreciate your time.” She replied smoothly, looking completely unaffected while Dick was very aware of the residual heat in his face.

Dick took his time opening the box, watching her back as she slowly descended out of sight until the door closed shut behind her. Sinking into his chair he submitted himself to another few hours of pointing and signing with his Orderly before sending the boy to bed, peering out his window hopefully when a great ruckus arose from one of the barns out back.

Glancing at his watch to confirm it was nearly 0200, he smiled a little to himself as everything seemed to have gone off alright. Rain drops began to sporadically strike the windowpane before the clouds opened into a steady, driving rain. Dick dropped the curtain with a sigh, the room filled with the rhythmic sound of water striking the roof and rolling off the eaves. It was dangerously tempting to lay his head down on his desk and give in to the heaviness in his eyelids, to allow himself to be lulled to sleep. Shaking himself physically, he turned back to yet another report and began striking the keys of his typewriter with a vengeance, hoping to keep himself awake with the racket.

Dick was just spooling a fresh page into place when Nixon was suddenly hurrying up the stairs, followed by Colonel Dobie himself. Both men were wet as drowned rats, but it was the seriousness of their faces that pulled Dick to his feet immediately, securing the pencil from between his teeth into his fist.

“Dick, you remember Colonel Dobie.”

“Yeah…yeah I do…” He replied slowly, trying to ignore the feeling of a sword dangling over their heads as he waited for them to tell him what was going on.

“Terribly sorry to barge in at such a late hour but I wanted to inform you of this incident personally. Well, incidents more precisely. It appears that one of our men, a Holman from Yorkshire, has been severely beaten by a couple of your men from Easy in retaliation for his attack on one of your female soldiers.”

Dick nodded once as he processed the news, heartrate picking up immediately. There were a total of twenty-seven women in 2nd Battalion, but given that it had been only Easy involved in Pegasus, that narrowed it down to a possible nine, of which just a handful had been chosen for the operation. Dick merely had to glance at Nixon to confirm his worst fear. Peaches.

He didn’t realize how tight his grip on the pencil in his hand had grown until the wooden object snapped in two.

“I am willing to consider the matter settled and in need of no further action. The man in question will be returned to England and assigned to some menial duty once he recovers from his injuries.” Dobie continued.

“That will take some time?” Dick asked calmly, despite the searing rage he felt rushing through him.

“Your men were thorough, Captain.” The Colonel replied, grimly.

Dick stood there a moment, eyeing an ink stain that had seeped into the wooden desk top while he was refilling his pen, considering. A beating and unpleasant assignment as punishment for heaven knows what the man had inflicted on her. But to demand more formal proceedings would immediately require testimonies and punishments for the men who had taken it upon themselves to defend her honor. He closed his eyes a moment, vision immediately flooded with her smiling face on one of the blissful outings they had enjoyed during their furlough in England. Forcefully setting the image aside, despite the way it wrenched at his heart to do so, he nodded again. If only to save her further pain.

“Agreed.” Dick offered his hand, Colonel Dobie sealing their agreement with a firm handshake.

Dobie turned to shake Nixon’s hand as well before seeing himself out, Dick waiting until he heard the door close before he spoke again. Two questions on the tip of his tongue, two men inside him, warring for dominance. To his dismay, he had to allow the Battalion’s commanding officer to speak first.

“Who are our vigilantes?”

“Martin and Randleman.” Nixon replied, sitting on one of the folding chairs at the small table in the corner with a heavy sigh. “Moose has them downstairs if you want to talk to them.”

“Yeah. Show them up.”

Nixon leveraged himself out of the chair and was halfway across the attic before he suddenly turned back. “She put that can of peaches in Parkes’ footlocker.”

Dick eyed his friend in confusion, the information seeming utterly irrelevant to their current situation until he suddenly remembered one of Sobel’s impromptu barracks inspections back in Toccoa.

“That dumb bastard wouldn’t leave the women in her squad alone, so she planted it there to get him in trouble – never expected him to get thrown out entirely.” Nixon sighed heavily.

“Where is she?” Dick asked quickly, the words almost melding together in his haste to get them out of his mouth.

“Johnny thinks she’s holed up in the supply barn, I’ll find out.” Nixon replied with a frown and Dick nodded silently, muscles of his jaw clenching almost painfully as he clung to the last vestiges of his focus.

He tossed the broken halves of the pencil onto the desk, frowning at the mess of lead on his palm and pulled the handkerchief from his pocket, frown deepening at the smudges of grease paint there from her face. He clenched the fabric between his fingers as Moose entered the office followed by a hard-faced Martin and a typically laidback Randleman.

“What happened?” He asked plainly, eyeing them expectantly.

Moose stood off to the side, watching Martin and Randleman exchange a look.

“Don’t all talk at once…” Dick prodded calmly, and Martin turned back to him.

“Bull and I were on our way out of the celebration, wanted to beat the rain and get back to our quarters – didn’t work out. Ran into Peaches as we got around the corner of the building. She looked like hell, roughed up, wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

“She just ran, not like her at all, sir.” Randleman chimed in.

“And then that bastard from the Devils, or whatever they call themselves, came around the corner looking all pleased with himself. Adjusting his pants.”

“Knuckles busted up.” Came Randleman’s addition once more.

“Anyway,” Martin continued after a sharp nod of agreement, “it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

Dick exhaled a slow, measured breath. “I can appreciate why you both did what you did. Next time, and we can only hope we never have to have this conversation again, bring him to Moose, to me. We have systems in place, alright?”

“Sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

“All that said…well done.” Dick said with quiet emphasis, letting his pride and gratitude burn brightly in his gaze. “And you’re both on latrine duty for the next two weeks.” He tacked on because he really had no choice but to punish them.

A pair of smirking salutes was the only response before Moose ushered them out. Dick waited until the count of twenty before sliding the suspenders of his OD pants onto his shoulders, shrugging into his jacket and clapping on his helmet. Grabbing his M1 and flashlight, he quickly made his way down the stairs and out into the persistent deluge toward the supply barn, nearly slamming into Nixon on the way.

“Follow me.” His friend nodded and continued to lead the way, nodding to Liebgott who was standing guard at the door, soaked to the skin.

“Joe.” Dick greeted him, noting the way he had his collar turned up obscuring half his face. The way his hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

It easily could have been in an attempt to protect himself against the elements, but Dick also knew Liebgott was the sort of man to never let anything go unanswered and if he was standing out here in the rain, he was surely more involved than anyone was letting on.

“Peaches is in there, sir. Doc Roe tried to help her, she wouldn’t let him touch her. Thought I’d make sure no one bothered her until she was ready.”

“Good thinking.” Dick swallowed.

He ought to press further, ferret out the truth of Liebgott’s involvement, but standing just outside where she was hiding, the other half of him was very much in charge now – wanting nothing more than to throw the door open and charge in. But by the sounds of it, that approach would be quite unwelcome.

“Why don’t you go warm up for a bit, we’ll take a turn.” Nixon said to Liebgott who looked between the pair of them before nodding in return.

“Thanks, sir.” He agreed, glancing back toward the barn once before jogging off into the night.

Dick waited until they were well and truly alone before slowly opening the door, stepping into the dim space, sliding his helmet from his head. The sound of footsteps retreating into the far corner behind crates of supplies drew his attention and he took a slow breath, calling her name softly.

“It’s me. Dick. I’m here to check on you.”

There was a soft, smothered sound and he clenched his fists, keeping his progress gradual and measured, trying not to make any sudden movements or noises to startle her. As he reached the rear of the barn, he rounded a stack of crates and his heart clenched painfully as his eyes fell on her wedged between a few bundles of blankets and sacks of something it was too dark to read the labels of. Her knees were hugged tightly to her chest, M1 tucked into the crook of her elbow as she eyed him warily in the dark.

Her normally tidy hair was in disarray, and the side of her face that he could see sported a gash across her eyebrow. He took another step closer, the air shuddering from his lungs as she flinched away, pressing tightly into the wall behind her, revealing her split lower lip, the swelling along her left cheekbone, the barely-dried tear tracks on her face.

Dick had never seen her shy away from anything since the day they’d met – not the obstacle course, the rifle range, Currahee, or jumping out of a C-47. For his proximity to garner such a reaction from her felt very much as though she had torn his heart from his breast and stomped it beneath her heel.

Sinking slowly into a crouch, he swallowed before speaking just above a whisper. “Peaches…”

The look of disgust, whether it was at the nickname or at herself – perhaps both, mixed with horror that crossed her face had Dick seriously considering if he had enough time to find Holman before his trip back to England and land a few blows himself. He gently corrected it with her name, teeth grinding together audibly in his skull as she turned her head to the side revealing small knicks at her throat. He’d held her at knife point.

“They’ve already found him. Some of the boys took justice into their own hands, but his superiors know now too.” He tried to reassure her, let her know he was no longer out there, no longer a threat to her.

Dick’s eyes dropped to follow the movement of her fingers as she picked at the torn ends of her nails, several cuts visible on her hands as well. Knowing her she’d probably put up a hell of a fight.

“P–” He stopped himself before he accidentally used the offensive nickname again. “…please you’re hurt. Can I clean you up?” He asked, voice trembling with the emotions he was desperately trying to keep at bay for her sake as he shifted forward onto his knees.

She shook her head violently in response, hugging her limbs tighter to her body, which hadn’t even seemed a possibility until it was done. Dick swallowed painfully, carefully laying his rifle and helmet down on the wooden floor beside him, sitting back on his heels.

“I love you.” He blinked rapidly at the gathering dampness in his eyelashes. “No matter what’s happened, I will always love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

She eyed him skeptically, no words passing between them for a long while. The sound of the persistent rain outside pounding against the roof filled the barn, drowning out the sound of their breathing, until she opened her mouth to speak at last.

“I froze.” She whispered, tone thick with self-loathing as she released her grip on her M1, laying it down beside his before sealing her palm over her mouth.

She began to shake with sobs so ferocious that no sound passed her throat, rendering the smothering effect of her hand unnecessary. Dick felt his heart shatter as he automatically reached for her, wanting nothing more than to pull her close and soothe some of her pain. Her repeated aversion to his touch, however, came flooding back and he froze, arms outstretched and aching to hold her, but wanting to respect her wishes.

The feeling of her body colliding with his chest as she launched herself into his arms punched the air from his lungs for several reasons, nearly sending him toppling over backwards with the force of it. Dick’s arms quickly gathered her onto his lap, one hand rubbing along her spine as her strangled sobs soaked his jacket, her hands clutching at him in return.

“You survived, my love.” He whispered against her hair, deciding he really ought to call her that in kind. It was only fitting for it was exactly how he felt. “You did what you had to do to survive in that moment. Please forgive yourself.”

He felt her shift against his sternum, the shudders wracking her body gradually slowing as she took deeper and deeper breaths, sniffling and wiping at her face carefully.

“Who did you have to yell at?” She murmured wetly, peering up at him cautiously.

“Martin and Randleman. Fairly certain Liebgott is somehow involved as well.” Dick replied softly, fighting back the urge to stroke her face. One step at a time – being allowed to hold her would more than suffice for now.

She sniffed. “Johnny must have figured it out first. I couldn’t even come up with a plausible lie I just…ran away from him outside the party…” Her eyes lowered in shame before she sat up slowly, Dick biting back a frown at the barely concealed wince that crossed her features.

“Nix is outside keeping watch. Can I take you back to CP? Get you cleaned up?” He swallowed, really wanting her to allow Roe to look her over but doubting that would be an option.

She looked to him, eyes suddenly wide with the terror of realization. “Oh god Dick, what if I catch something or…wind up pregnant…oh fuck…” Her face began to crumple, and Dick swallowed, quickly cupping her uninjured cheek hoping to startle her out of that train of thought.

As she jumped and looked to him sharply, he apologized gently. “My love, we don’t know if any of those things will happen. Hopefully they won’t, but no matter what comes next, we’re going to face it together.”

“But Dick I’m–”

“Don’t go and say something melodramatic, now. You’re the woman I love and something horrible has been done to you. It doesn’t change who you are to me.” He replied firmly, swallowing as she stared at him startled for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Now I’m taking you to CP and we’re getting you cleaned up, ok?”

“Should I salute you, Captain?” She raised an eyebrow before wincing and restoring her face to a neutral expression.

He felt his cheeks redden, a sure sign that things would some day return back to normal. That the woman he loved was still with him, she just needed a lot of care right now and he was more than happy to provide it. “That won’t be necessary, Sergeant.” He replied and tried not to smirk as she scoffed slightly in surprise before shifting to her feet slowly.

Dick passed her rifle to her before grabbing his own, rising to his feet and sliding his helmet on his head. He offered his hand to her, swallowing back his sigh of relief as she laced her battered fingers through his and followed him out through the maze of supplies to where Nixon was still waiting in the rain.

“Christ, Peaches…” He breathed when she came into view and Dick shot him a sharp look, trying, too late, to stop him using the nickname.

“Son-of-a-bitch ruined the nickname, Nix. I trust you to come up with a new one.” She sighed, sounding positively exhausted, and Nixon nodded quickly in reply.

“Noted. You sure you’re alright?” He asked softly and she shook her head.

“No. But someday, maybe.” She replied honestly and Nixon nodded empathetically as Dick squeezed her hand gently.

“Let’s get out of this rain.” He led the three of them back into the farmhouse, taking her straight to the washroom where he filled the basin with water. “Help or no?”

She paused a moment, staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror left behind by the home’s original owners and Dick waited patiently until she turned back to him. “I can do it.” She replied softly and he nodded, closing the door to wait in the hall.

Nixon shuffled by carrying his pillow and Dick raised an eyebrow. “Give her my bed, I’ll take your crappy little cot.” He muttered, making his way to the attic before he even had the chance to reply.

The ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he leaned his head back against the wall, thoroughly spent by the events of the day, knowing he’d have to be up in just a few hours to face the rest of the paperwork on his desk.

“Dick?” Her soft voice startled him, making him realize he’d actually fallen asleep standing up, for just a moment.

Her lips twitched slightly with a hint of amusement, and he smiled slightly in return, nodding as she looked more herself despite the still-fresh injuries.

“This way.” He offered his hand and led her towards Nixon’s room, gesturing at the bed. “Gift from Lew.”

Her face softened, eyes glistening suddenly, reminding Dick just how fragile she still was. “Where is he sleeping?”

“Attic.”

“Then you need a bed too…” She replied as she crawled onto the mattress, sighing at the softness of the bedding.

“Oh, the floor is fine I…”

“Please hold me.” Her voice was small, her request simple and one that he did not need to hear twice to honor.

He unlaced his boots and removed his outer layers before crawling in with her, letting her curl up against him before sliding his arm around her carefully. “Comfortable?” He asked in a hushed voice.

“Very.” She replied sleepily and he allowed himself to drift, listening to the rise and fall of her breath, letting sleep nibble at the edges of his consciousness.

“Dick?” She whispered and he snuffled awake quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Does it smell like pee in here?”

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

Band of Brothers Masterlist

[indigo-graves]

This Dance pt. 2 | Joe Liebgott

Summary: Part two, in which everyone is fighting to hold back exactly what they want to say.

Word count: 3,857

Warnings: SMUT

There was a conversation that needed to happen that Joe Liebgott was not quite bring himself to start. As they stood in the crowded room, the roaring of the speakers around them felt overwhelming. After settling into the quietness of their lives’ new pace, watching the footage from the Pacific seemed a stark and unwelcomed contrast. Liebgott wondered if he would have felt this way if he had not spent the entire fight in Europe wondering what it would be like to start a life with Evelyn Mosey when this was all over. If there was one thought that got him through the blasts, the cold and wet, seemingly endless nights, it was her. And the idea that he would never be without her again. 

He tried to steal subtle glances over to her as she watched the footage screen. Her jaw was set. Her full lips pressed into a firm line. Her dark eyes were focused intently, never once bothering to look over at him. He watched a wave of tension ripple in her neck. She tilted her head side to side, rolling her shoulders up to meet her ears. A simple gesture that would have gone unnoticed to anyone but him. 

When they shuffled out, he made sure to keep sight of her. The masses that filed out trickled out taking different paths, he made a bee-line for her. Years spent in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to glance, to touch, to speak, he knew how to keep himself at a distance, while still in her warm orbit.  

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Lieb,” she told him adamantly, looking down the hallway both ways to ensure that no one else was interested in their exchange. 

“I know,” he rolled his eyes. Never had he been with a woman who was so consistently unfeeling when it did not benefit her. “Can I just--” 

She watched someone walk past them, behind Liebgott. They exchanged a nod of recognition. Her face fell from its friendly openness to one of frustration when she met his gaze again. 

“Just come in,” she opened the door wider and encouraged him to move quickly. “I don’t want to do this out here.” 

Liebgott had seen her room since their time began at Zell Am See. The time he spent there was less than he would have liked. If he had imagined a true celebration of the victory in Europe, it would not have been so distant from her. 

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” She was firm in her words, but her hand was gentle as it touched the buttons on his shirt. He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. He knew there weren’t going to be any words he could say to demand her to comply. He could not claim her strong will was his favorite thing about her and then admonish her for it when it did not benefit him. “Please?” 

The way she looked up at him with those large doe eyes made him feel a warmth spread in his chest and abdomen. He touched her face gently and nodded, tracing her jawline with his thumb. He had spent half the fucking war holding back a proposal of marriage, children, a life together. He bit back vows of eternity and forever. He withheld the words “I love you.” Surely one more fucking day made no difference. 

She smiled and took him by the hand, slowly backing him towards the bathroom. 

There was an electric current that radiated through every vein in his body when she reached to turn the shower on. He was convinced there would never be a time where he was not breathless in anticipation to see her undress. He felt the twitch of need in his groin just thinking of the moment where he would watch the water touch her naked flesh. So when she started to work on the buttons of her shirt, he sat back on the corner of the clawfoot tub with a playful smirk. 

Evelyn rolled her eyes as she watched him perch himself on the tub. If there was one thing she was going to miss about Joseph Liebgott, it was going to be his boyish charm. The way his eyes danced over her appraisingly caused her skin to catch light with blue flame, so hot it felt cool and caused her to erupt in goosebumps. She stepped out of her boots skillfully as she worked on the buttons of her shirt. When she pulled it over her shoulders and left it in a pile on the ground, she heard a small whistle from her observer. 

Liebgott felt a pang in his stomach while he watched her start to work on her pants. Ignoring all thoughts and feelings (how did she do it?) about what was to come, he focused on the way her deft fingers worked on her buttons, letting them fall to her feet. Though he had ensured that every part of her had been explored by eager hands, lips, and tongue, it was taking everything in him not to get to his knees and help her escort those pants the rest of the way to her ankles. 

She stepped out of the last of her clothes with a smile. He bit his lip as he glanced over her body. Evelyn had resigned herself that there would never be another man who made her so hungry to be stared at in this way again. His eyes carried just enough devotion to balance the intense desire that made her feel like the only woman on the planet. He once had told her he would watch her read the phone book just to stare at her lips. 

Liebgott licked his lips softly, shifting to adjust the fullness in his pants. No coaxing, no teasing, simply the pure sight of her undressing herself, all for him, caused such a stir in him. It was exactly that gesture that Evelyn watched hungrily, her eyes darkening as she pinned her lower lip between her teeth. That was all the indication Joe needed to close the gap between them. 

He braced the back of her head, her dark curls tangling perfectly around his large fingers when he pulled her close. He wanted to taste the spot of her mouth where she had bit down. A needy whimper betrayed Evelyn as it eased up from her throat. It was so very like Joe Liebgott to pull all kinds of unprompted sounds from her eager throat. The way his mouth moved with hers was a dance the two of them had skillfully mastered. Lieb couldn’t help but smirk as he thought about the other kinds of dances she had shared with other men. Nothing could compare to this. Ever. 

His hands worked at the buttons of his own shirt. He made a quick and sloppy job of getting it off and tossing it to the floor, his undershirt quick behind it. There was a simple and intense maneuver Evelyn had mastered in getting his belt undone with nimble fingers. It always left him growling against her lips. He gripped her scantily clad behind and squeezed, pulling her hips into his with a force that caused them both to let out a groan. 

“Joey,” she breathed, her lips swollen, his pridefully wearing the ghost of her red lipstick. He smirked, feeling himself twitch at the sound of her need. He busied himself with kissing her neck, his thumbs teasing the cups of her bra. She worked to unbutton his pants, chest heaving, eyes heavily lidded. 

“Yeah?” He grinned against her skin. She moaned again, biting her swollen lower lip and shuddering as he kissed down over her sternum. “What is it?” he asked teasingly. “Tell me.” The demand was placed just before he nipped at the skin of her right breast. He tugged at his waistband and let his pants fall with a gasp. 

“Take me,” she murmured, feeling his desperate length through his boxers with her hand. 

“You know how this works, doll.” He smiled, making eye contact with her. He could taste her desperate shudders as he pressed their foreheads together. Their eyes were locked so intensely that she felt him twitch under her hand. “You don’t get any of me until I’ve had my fill of you first.” 

She leaned up and kissed him with a groan, reaching around and taking it upon herself to get her bra off. Lieb took the hint and cast his boxers to the floor, slowly stroking himself as she watched her expose every inch of her perfect body to him. The strain his erection had felt boyish, desperate, and fucking incredible. Never in his life did he think he would find himself a puddle of need at the simple sight of a woman. 

She knew it, of course. Evelyn teased him with a smirk as she kicked her underwear to the side with a delicate gesture, her toes pointed. She turned and his breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her delicate muscles of her back, the perfect curve of her hips, her ass, her strong thighs. He continued to touch himself, the way she always reminded him to, when he watched her turn on the water. He knew she longed to be needed in the way he needed her. Joe tried not to think about who would prove to her just how incredible she was when he was no longer around. Biting back every question that bubbled over in his throat, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. 

When his chest pressed against her back, Evelyn hummed contently. His length settled against the curve of her rear, his lips near her ear as he leaned down. She watched as his hand traced the length of her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps with the gentlest touch. 

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered into her ear. He pressed his lips to her shoulder as he slowly moved his hand toward her exposed breasts. When his large hand fully enveloped her, she felt the gentle brush of his palm over her nipple that encouraged a moan. He chuckled in her ear as his other hand trailed the curve of her hip toward her desperate center. “Fuck,” he growled, feeling her wetness with the gentle touch of the pad of his finger. Gently pulling her hair up into his fist, he held it away from her neck as he planted hungry kisses on her skin. Sucking, scraping his teeth, flicking his tongue against the sensitive skin where her neck and shoulder met while he drew slow circles around her most sensitive spot. Gasping, pressing back against him, melting into his ministrations, Evelyn felt like she was unable to promise her legs’ ability to hold her up much longer. 

“Please, Joe,” she begged breathlessly. “Please.” 

Joe chuckled from deep in his chest. She felt it rumble against her back. He took his hand away, missing the warmth of her on his fingers immediately. She turned to him, her eyes heavily lidded with lust, searching his desperately. He smiled at her, took the finger that had worked on her so deftly, and placed it to his lips, flicking his tongue over the pad, his eyes locked with hers. 

“Mmm…” He groaned, stepping towards her, backing her into the shower. “God damn…” he growled, watching as her body was hit by the hot water. 

Joe watched her, watching the beads of water create paths down over the curves of her body. With her taste on his desperate tongue, his eyes on her perfect body, his heart beating in his chest, he wasn’t sure he would be able to hold out much longer. Whether it was the vulnerability of the space they occupied, the time left together that felt too short, or the intoxicating effect he had on him, he couldn’t distinguish. All he knew is that he had to have her. 

There was a beat that passed between them where they were sizing each other up. Evelyn felt the desperation of the moment hit her with a depth she had not recognized. God, if he would just be a little less delicate and loving in those touches, she could excuse away the lump growing in her throat as she watched the way he looked at her. She had always been enough for him. He had always reminded her of that. 

In a quick attempt to avoid him seeing the tears welling up in her eyes, she leaned forward and kissed him. The way their lips crashed into one another had an urgency he had not felt from her before. Her hunger was bone deep. He traced her jaw, tenderly caressing her neck, flicking her hair over her shoulder. His length stood at attention between them, gently nudging the flesh of her belly. He rocked forward to feel the friction as he ghosted a gentle trail down her arms to her warm, capable hands. 

When he laced their fingers together, she felt him back her into the wall of the shower. The cool tile was an intense contrast to the warm water that hit her front. He laced their fingers together, pressing it gently against the wall beside her head, pinning it there. She watched a coy smirk cross his lips as he pulled away from her. She giggled, tracing the curve of his lower lip, cleaning up the lipstick he had stolen from her mouth. He leaned down and took that thumb between his teeth, flicked his thumb over the pad, and chuckled. She laughed, a playful swat at his cheek against his cheek, pulled her thumb back and replaced it with her lips. 

Joe held her against the wall with the weight of his body. Slowly, he started to trail those kisses down over her body, his hand still tightly clasped in hers. He loved the feeling of her grip on his hand tightening as he placed kisses to the more intimate parts of her body. The spot between her breasts, her left nipple, just above her belly button (God, would he miss that fucking giggle), the curve of her hip, the top of her thigh. He directed her hand to the back of his head and left it there, needing both of his hands to tenderly separate her thighs, pulling one up over his shoulder as he got to his knees. 

“Joe…” she breathlessly tangled her hands in his hair and gripped as he pressed his mouth to the place where she needed him most. There was a wave of gasps that followed that caused him to smirk against her, following the work of his tongue with the addition of a skilled finger. 

Mindful of shared walls, used to keeping herself quiet by biting pillows and shoulders, Evelyn was left to trap the back of her hand in her teeth as he worked. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her as she touched her, teased her, tongued her with the skill of a much more experienced man. But, she recognized, he was an experienced man. He was a man who knew her so fully that he was able to coax the most unladylike noises from her throat with ease. He knew her inside and out in every way possible. The intimate attention he paid to the details of her body felt like the worship of a deity; the way he enacted that devotion felt sinful. 

Overwhelmed by every sensation between her legs, she found herself grasping at the back of his head and shoulders, her hips moving up to meet his attentive mouth and fingers. He moaned against her repeatedly, desperate to draw every curse she knew from her delicate mouth. Grinning with desire, with power, with pleasure, he worked attentively on her body, his only goal to push her to her limits. He stopped the hand that was working at his own length and snaked it up over her body, tracing her edges to take her heaving breast in his hands. They moaned in unison, his sending vibrations to the core of her being. In that moment, she came undone around his fingers, against his tongue, spilling out desperate whimpers and cries of his name. Joe could have spent an eternity in the sound of her sweet need. 

Evelyn, on the other hand, was unable to let too long pass without any part of him inside of her. His vacancy was felt immediately when she pulled him to his feet, gently guided by the fistful of his dark hair. She kissed him as if it would be their last, unsure if it would be, and teased a hand over his eager length, guiding him towards her. 

Joe, pleased to know she was as needy as he felt, pulled away from her lips and tongue. He gripped her hips and turned her away from him, her ass pulled against his hard length in the most satisfying way. She moaned at the contact, he held his own back. He tucked her hair behind her ear as to not obscure her vision as she turned to look over her shoulder at him. He kissed her temple, her ear, her jaw, neck, and shoulder. His hand encouraged her thighs apart, lifting a leg to the edge of the tub where her foot found purchase. 

Swiftly, skillfully, and perfectly, he entered her, pulling a satisfied, guttural moan from deep within them both.

“Fuck,” he gasped against her neck. The way he gripped her hips was bruising as they both accommodate his eager entrance. He felt her skin erupt in goosebumps against his chest. He pressed forward, making sure he reached her depths with all he had. She reached back, stiffening against him, her fingers lacing with his against her hip. 

Slowly, consistently, deeply, he started a pace with his hips. The water that fell between them from above made their skin glisten and it pooled where their bodies met. The gentle slap of their skin meeting with gentle force made her giggle. He kissed her cheek, unable to hold back the groans of pleasure that spilled from his lips. She gasped, pushing back against him as she angled herself to take him deeper. 

That was all Joe needed to encourage him to pick up his pace. The swiftness in which their bodies collided called new noises from her mouth. He kissed her upper back and shoulders while he steadied himself, pulling her back onto him. 

“Oh, god…” she reached toward the wall to find something to grip. The slick tiles gave her no purchase. That was when she reached behind her, wrapping a hand around his neck, gripping the hairs at the base of his scalp. Liebgott groaned loudly, gripping her hips tighter. His other hand trailed up toward her breast, gripping it gently in his hands, memorizing its shape, weight, the hardness of her nipple against his palm. 

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” He grunted into her ear, only further pulling strings of incoherence from her mouth. She bit her lip hard, feeling an overwhelm of emotion take over her body like a wave. The lump grew double in size in her throat as she met his every thrust, stars behind her eyes. Unable to respond, he continued. “You’re so perfect. Fuck, Evie.” Her name felt like chocolate on his lips. She turned over her shoulder to taste it on them. Her eyes screwed shut as the tears burned behind them, he continued to bring her body to new heights. When he reached down between her legs, she became overwhelmed. The threat of tears was hard to fight off. 

“Joe--” she breathed, the sound of his name clipped by the failure to stop a sob from leaving her lips. The phrase he pulled from her next caused her to bite her tongue between her teeth. 

“I--” Joe started. She heard the start of her own words start to come from his mouth. The feeling, the desperation of her overwhelming emotions was contagious. He couldn’t tell where his heartbreak, his pleasure, his love, began and where hers ended. The only way to stop himself from telling her just how he felt about her was to sink his teeth in her shoulder, as she had done to him so many times. Familiar with the sensation, Evelyn felt the pressure, the sting, and every unsaid word behind the contact on her shoulder. She turned away, fearful he would stop if he saw the tears cascading down her cheeks, he would stop. She screwed her eyes shut as she felt a heat building inside of her. 

Desperate to feel her come undone around him, under him, with him, he teased her more intentionally with his fingers, his hips working in time with his skillful touch. If he couldn’t tell her, he could show her. 

“Please,” she begged. He had come to know it as the last phrase, the last push, before he was gifted with her orgasm. “Joe--” 

As he felt her start to push back against him, taking every inch of him, all of him, so intentionally. The feel of her as she let go, her body working desperately to pull him over the edge with her, he followed. The two of them tumbled over together, a tangled mess of limbs, pants, sobs, and everything they swore they’d never fucking say.

[zivazivc]

i have the usual brainrot so here's a bunch of drawings of the brozone bros standing in the void

something something their paint brush hair is just a stage look, they are actually their parents' children

[felsicveins]

Every stupid slut needs a nerd

[petracozbi]

Doodles of Clover and Trevor cuz I’m genuinely obsessed with them

[donovanlizzie]

Hidden affections - Joe Liebgott

Masterlist

Band of brothers masterlist

The tension between Joe Liebgott and Y/N during basic training was palpable, their constant bickering earning them a reputation as the pair who couldn't stand each other. Yet, hidden beneath the surface, there was a strange connection that bound them together.

One evening at the bar, the air was thick with the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and the low hum of conversations.

She found herself watching Him from across the room, despite the tension that existed between them. His animated conversations with friends drew her attention, inadvertently coaxing a smile from her.

As she observed, George Luz snuck up behind her, curiosity etched on his face. "Who are you smiling at?" he asked, a playful tone in his voice.

However, his smile quickly faded and his expression shifted from playful to concerned as he followed her gaze to Joe Liebgott.

"Really? " George scoffed, looking at her like a disappointed parent "Liebgott?, after the way he acts around you?"

"It's complicated Luz" she replied, taking another sip of her beer.

Luz raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Complicated? That's one way to describe it. I mean, he acts like he can't stand you half the time."

She sighed, her gaze lingering on Joe as he laughed at something Talbert had said. "Yeah, well, maybe it's his way of dealing with things. Doesn't mean there's not something else there."

George smirked, leaning against the bar. "You're telling me there's something more to Liebgott than meets the eye? Colour me intrigued."

Chuckling she shook her head. "You wouldn't understand, Luz. It's like we're constantly at odds, but when it comes down to it, he's got my back. And I've got his."

George gave her a skeptical look. "Got his back? More like got each other's throats."

"Trust me, Luz, i know there's a lot more to Joe Liebgott than what he shows. " she replied cryptically, swirling her beer in her glass.

George sighed, "Well, just be careful. Liebgott's a complicated guy, and complicated usually means trouble."

She nodded in acknowledgment, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I can handle a little trouble."

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

Liebgott sat at a nearby table, the conversation he was engrossed in had become irrelevant as his ear pricked up at the mention of Y/N's name from the table behind him , overhearing Roy Cobb, a fellow paratrooper, running his mouth about her to a group of new replacements.

"Y/n? Oh, you mean Easy Company's little sweetheart," Cobb remarked with a mocking tone, eliciting a few chuckles from the newcomers. "she's just a liability. She should've never shown her face in easy company! My bet is she's been playing the commander, putting on a show of competence that's going to get someone killed. Sobel should've gotten rid of her a long time ago."

Anger flared in Joe's eyes as he clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as Cobb continued to tarnish her name.

"And have you seen her? No wonder she hasn't found a man yet. Who would want to be with someone like her? It's not surprising she's still single; she's probably too busy ruining missions to care about settling down."

Unable to contain himself any longer, Joe jumped up from his table and approached Cobb's group with a scowl on his face.

"What the fuck did you just say about her?" Joe sneered at Cobb, who tried to laugh it off and reason with him. "Come on, Joe, you know what she's like – my bet is she's had half the company now-"

Before Cobb could finish his sentence, Joe's fist connected with his face, sending him sprawling to the floor. The commotion drew the attention of the entire bar, and the rest of Easy Company rushed to stop the impending fight.

She and Luz watched, exchanging puzzled glances. "What was that about?" She asked, concern furrowing her brow.

George shook his head. "I don't know, but Liebgott looks pissed."

As the men of Easy Company pulled Joe away from the scene, Cobb nursed his bleeding nose and shot a glare in her direction. She met his gaze with a cold intensity, her eyes daring him to say another word.

Joe, still seething, was restrained by his comrades. "You talk about her again, and I'll do more than just break your nose," he spat at Cobb, the words laced with a dangerous edge.

The bar returned to its uneasy quiet, the rumours quashed by the unexpected confrontation. Joe may have acted on impulse, but his protective instinct for her had been laid bare for everyone to see.

She watched as Joe stormed out of the bar in a huff, cursing under his breath. She placed her empty pint glass on the table in front of her and felt a sense of urgency to follow him. "Hey, where are you going?" George called out, walking back to the bar - no doubt to get another drink.

"Don't worry about it," she mumbled back, not wanting to explain as she made a beeline for the door Joe had just stormed out of. Once outside, the cold air hit her like a thousand tiny needles, causing her to shiver. Walking a few steps away from the door, she scanned the darkening area, the sun just starting to set, painting the sky with an orangey-red hue.

Her eyes fell upon Joe, leaning against one of the nearer barracks, smoking a cigarette. She took a deep breath and began walking towards him, the stones crunching under her shoes catching Joe's attention almost immediately , his jaw tightening in response.

"What are you doing out here?" Joe asked, stubbing out his cigarette. Ignoring Joe's question, She confronted him,

"What the hell was that back there?"

"Never you mind," Joe replied dismissively.

"Joseph Liebgott, I will mind. You punched a fellow paratrooper in the face!" Her tone carried a mix of disbelief and frustration, feeling as if she was scolding a schoolboy.

"Cobb said some shit that wasn't true, and I hit him – no big deal," Joe responded, trying to downplay the situation.

"What did he say, Joe?" She pressed, her voice rising a little.

"Damn it, Y/n, what is this, 21 questions?"

"Liebgott, tell me what he said!" She insisted, her frustration evident.

Joe sighed pushing off the barracks wall and walked over to her, the distance between them closing until they were almost nose to nose , his breath fanning her face, the smell of the recent cigarette lingering in the air.

Joe's gaze softened, and he let out a heavy sigh. "Look, I might not always show it, but I don't like hearing lies about people I... care about," he admitted gruffly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Her expression softened in return. "Care about? Liebgott, you're not known for being the sentimental type. Why would you care about what Cobb says about me?"

Joe hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenching. "I hate to admit it, but... I don't like the idea of anyone talking crap about you. Especially when it's a load of bullshit."

Her eyes widened, surprised by his admission. "Joe Liebgott, did you just say something vaguely nice about me?"

He scoffed, trying to deflect. "Don't get used to it. I just... I don't know, I just don't like people thinking less of you because of some idiot's lies."

A small smile played on her lips. "Well, I appreciate that, Joe. It's strange, you know? Despite all the bickering, I never thought you'd... care."

Joe mumbled something incoherent, avoiding her gaze. The tension between them lingered, the unspoken words hanging in the cold air. , Feeling a mix of emotions, She took a step closer to Joe.

"I don't hate you, Y/n. I might not show it, but I..." Joe's gruff words trailed off, and before he could finish, She closed the remaining distance between them, pressing her lips against his. It was a moment of unexpected intimacy, fuelled by the unspoken emotions they both struggled to express.

Breaking the kiss, Joe sighed, his forehead resting against hers. "I hate to admit it, but I... I like you, a lot."

She looked at him, a mix of surprise and a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, that's something," she said, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Joe rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a smirk. "Yeah, yeah, don't get used to it."

As they stood there, the realisation of the unexpected turn of events settled in. The tension that once hung between them had transformed into something different – something neither of them had anticipated.

[malarkgirlypop]

Masterlist

Requests for one-shots are OPEN! ❤️

🖋️🖋️#bobcollab

About me:

My name is Kate I go by she/her pronouns, I’m 23, just happy to be here really this fandom is so supportive! Have a look around, and don’t be scared to message me!

My OC's

Lemonade (Eugene Sledge x Fem!OC):

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

MEDIC! (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC): Moodboard 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie: (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC AU)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

BoB x Reader

Ronald Speirs:

Green-eyed Monster

Edward Tipper:

Warriors part 1

Warriors part 2

Joseph Liebgott:

Goody part 1

Goody part 2

Goody part 3

Bull Randleman:

He's the Boss Part 1

He's the Boss Part 2

He's the Boss Part 3

He's the Boss Part 4

David Webster:

This is for you

Eugene Roe:

Come Away With Me

Lena Riggi:

Lie with me?