#doc roe one shot

[indigo-graves]

Warmth | Eugene Roe

When the curtains were no longer able to block out the sun, there was a shift beside Roe, which caused him to stir. There was a moment where he found himself struggling to orient himself to the room. It had been all too easy to forget he was in a bedroom, under warm linens, and not in the snow-dusted forest of Bastogne. A warmth he never would quite be able to replicate radiated from beside him, something he had an even harder time orienting himself to. Even more recent than their arrival at the Eagle’s Nest, was the bedfellow he had found once they got there. 

Gene turned, inhaling her scent. The soap had found in that bathroom was lovely, of course, but he found himself dizzy with desire when he leaned closer, his head tilted to inhale the spot where her hair lingered on her neck. He took a deep breath in, taking in the soft, sweet natural scent, the depth of the warmth that grew in his belly was new. Would he ever get used to being this close? The smokey bite from the fireplace that lingered in her hair felt familiar. He had recalled it from close, accidental brushes when he worked beside her on the battlefield. 

She stirred again, humming as she readjusted herself into the pillow, the mattress, into him. He felt a hum of appreciation rumble deep in his chest. He pressed his lips gently to the back of her shoulder, taking his time to feel the warmth of her skin. Wordlessly, she reached over, taking his hand in hers. He grinned against her skin when she held his hand in hers, lining the length of her fingers up with his. Their two hands became one shadow, blocking the direct light of the sun shining in on the pair. She tipped her fingers between his and pulled it down across her body. His fingers still flexed, hers gripping at his hand, she brought each of the tips of his fingers to her mouth. A kiss was placed on the pad of each finger slowly. Taking her time to recall memories of watching them work tirelessly to keep the Company alive. 

Roe chuckled, the muscles in his cheeks ached from smiling. She felt it against her skin, thanking God for the smile. Few and far between had he shared it with her as they navigated their way across Europe, attempting to keep the Easy Company in one piece. Since finding a place away from mortar rounds and gunfire, both seemed to share those far more freely. And they were not the only two that noticed. 

“Do you think they’ll notice if we both come down to get something to eat at the same time?” She whispered against the back of his hand as she kissed it. He chuckled and moved closer. 

“I don’t think so,” He responded, kissing the back of her neck in kind. “But again, mon cher, it’s not me who is worried about getting caught.” 

She rolled her eyes. She was certainly not going to have this argument on an empty stomach. It had nothing to do with him, of course. Any woman would have tripped over themselves to have a chance to be so adored by a man like Eugene Roe. But it was not something she wanted to be decided until they knew whether or not they would be sent to the Pacific. 

“Gene,” she sighed, turning to face him. He had spent 28 days across from her in Bastogne. They had locked eyes hundreds, if not thousands of times. But each time she focused those large blue eyes on his, he felt a tension in his stomach that no woman had ever caused before. 

“I know,” he nodded. He felt goosebumps raise on his skin as her hand rested on his chest. A soft smile played at his lips in contrast to the pout that had pulled at hers. He kissed her forehead softly, inhaling deeply at the crown of her head. “You stay here. I’ll go get you something to eat.” 

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, “you go down first. Get yourself something. I’ve got to wash up first anyhow.” 

Eugene nodded. He brushed his lips over hers in a whisper of a movement. He swallowed his words. She smiled, pressed a more forceful kiss to his mouth, and rolled out of bed. Again, he thought, he would never be able to replicate that warmth anywhere else in the world. 

[womaninthehighlands]

[I.D.: screencap of a tweet from user NailsNCrowns that reads, "someone put together a Google doc of 150 gynecologist that will tie your tubes without asking if you have kids, your marital status and no matter your age. Its sorted into alphabetical order by state." (they include the link to the doc here. Doc linked at end of this post). The same user comments on their post, "if your city isn't on the list, please check back in a few hours because this list is updated hourly. (3 heart emojis) /End I.D.]

A friend of mine sent me this screen shot and a link to the Google doc. I've seen lots of posts about how to avoid pregnancy in light of roe v wade being overturned but nothing about this Google doc yet so I figured I'd make one. I know not everyone is in a position where surgery is an option, but for those who do want and can get their tubes tied, it's often difficult for them to get doctors to agree to it if they're young and unmarried or married without kids because they "might change their mind," which is misogynistic and condescending enough to deserve its own post but I digress. This is a crowd sourced list, the email to submit a doctor if you know one or are one is listed at top of the doc. Stay safe, friends.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Thank God for Eugene Roe

This request was from a lovely anon. It’s been sat in my inbox for a little while so I’m sorry it’s taken so long but it’s finally here now. Hope you enjoy. Warnings: mentions of injury, swearing, death, themes of war.

Eugene wasn’t sure what order the events of the day went in. Everything became a blur after a while and all he could see was the crimson blood covering his pale hands. It all began when Skinny Sisk had been hit earlier that morning and Eugene accompanied him to the aid station in Bastogne. The aid station had been crowded and he spent a good portion of the morning there, not returning until later that day, and leaving Spinna in charge. Easy Company. They were in good hands, no patrols were scheduled, and the bombardment from the morning had died down. It was a relatively quiet day, maybe too quiet.

No one looked up at Eugene as he hopped off the jeep, trudging his way through the snow to where Spinna was standing, arms crossed, his chin buried deep into his scarf, moving from foot to foot to stay warm. The priest had just finished his blessing and began gathering up the white sheet he’d laid across the bonnet of the jeep.

“What’s the word?” Eugene balanced the boots he’d collected for Joe Toye on top of the box of supplies Renée had kindly found for him.

Spinna glanced at him, “Battalion wants a reconnaissance patrol. Kraut hunting”

“Alright, I'll go. Take these,” Eugene passed the box over to Spinna, who accepted them thankfully, glad he didn’t have to go on the patrol after all. “Give the boots to Joe Toye, tell him they’re a nine.” Spinna nodded at Eugene as he began to jog over toward the other paratroopers who had gathered, waiting for orders.

Eugene hurried towards Sergeant Martin who was talking quietly to Lieutenant Peacock. Johnny’s hand shot out, stopping Eugene in his tracks, “Doc Doc, it’s a combat patrol. Why don’t you stay back and keep your ass out of trouble? Huh?”

Eugene looked a little forlorn, and nodded slowly “Yes Sergeant.” He was surprised they didn’t want a medic on the patrol. Ever since they arrived in Bastogne and the Krauts started their artillery barrages, everyone was crying out for a goddamn medic, day or night.

Stepping back Eugene caught Y/n's eye, she smiled at him softly, giving him a small wave before continuing her conversation with George and Babe. Eugene felt the familiar ache in his chest beginning to grow as it did every time she smiled at him.

His heart always ached when he wasn’t on patrols with her, fearing that the worst would happen before he’d even told her how he truly felt. She was his friend but that’s all he was ever going to be to her, and it hurt, but at least he could help keep her alive.

He crouched down by a tree, ignoring the snow that brushed against his trousers, leaving damp patches where he sat. The cold seemed to keep him awake, alert, and ready for anything that could go wrong. He’d been that way since they came into the Bulge. On edge, waiting for the next move to go wrong. That was the part he hated about being a medic, everyone always needed him in the most dire situations. The rest of the time he merely existed, never getting close to them because, in the next moment, he’d be covered in their blood.

He lit a cigarette, embracing the warm air that filled his lungs, exhaling in a long puff of smoke that drifted upwards towards the light that peaked through the dense tree cover. The snow blew through it extinguishing any heat before it had the chance to warm the air. Bastogne was a place of cold and despair, any hope was soon extinguished, if not by the Krauts then by the weather.

The gunfire signalled the action that Eugene was waiting for.

“Doc, it’s Y/n!”

Eugene found himself frozen in time, his eyes watching his fellow paratroopers rush past him in a blur. George’s mouth was moving as he continued to shout but all Eugene could hear was her name, a silent prayer on his lips. It couldn’t be her, not Y/n.

“Doc! Help her! She’s been shot!” That was all it took for him to be at George’s side, pushing the radioman out of the way and falling beside Y/n, who gave him the same soft smile she had sent him earlier.

“Y/n, ya stay with me now. Dontcha’ even think about dying.” He pressed the bandage firmly against the wound on her side, cursing as the blood flowed straight through his fingers.

“E-Eugene… Gene I…” Y/n gasped, blood spilling out the corner of her mouth as she spluttered helplessly on the ground. Eugene ripped open the syrrette of Morphine, pressing it firmly into the fresh over her collar bone.

“Y/n, don’t say nothin’, ‘kay. Save ya strength. I need ya to stay with me,” Eugene pleaded, his hand shaking as he placed the cannula, securing it with tape quickly and allowing the plasma to flow down the line and into her veins. The morphine was taking effect now too and her speech became slurred as she tried to reach out for Eugene’s hand.

“Eu-gene?” He gripped her hand tightly, placing his lips on her skin. He could feel her shaking beneath his touch, and he couldn’t help the tears that spilt down his frozen cheeks.

“You’re gonna be just fine, Y/n.” Eugene knew deep down he was trying to reassure himself but he was glad when Y/n smiled up at him.

“I’m gonna getcha’ outta here.” With George’s help, they began to drag Y/n along the snow-covered ground, trying to ignore her complaints of pain as the German bullets whipped past their heads. Captain Nixon appeared, shouting over the commotion for them to retreat, but Eugene and George kept on moving, pulling Y/n to safety before they stopped.

Eugene was back at her side in an instant, applying a fresh dressing over the already soiled one, praying that this one would hold.

“Eugene, I need to tell you s…mthing imp-portant. I-I love you, Gene. I-I’ve always l-loved you but I was too s-scared to tell you.”

Eugene’s heart skipped in his chest, feeling lightheaded as he fell over his words. He wanted to tell her he loved her too, to kiss her, to hold her close to his chest and promise her that everything was going to be okay. How could he promise her that? He could only watch as she grew ever paler and the blood seeped through the bandages, turning the snow around them bright red.

“I know,” he replied, brushing his hand over her sweaty forehead, watching as her glazed eyes followed his movements. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/n.” The roar of the jeep pulling up accompanied his words and he made quick work of flagging it down, carrying Y/n over and laying her limp body over the stretcher as she passed out.

The first thing Y/n remembered was the pain, it spread through her body like a searing fire, causing her to cry out. She sat upright in bed with a start, hissing as the sutures pulled at the wound on her abdomen. A pair of hands came to rest on her shoulders, easing her back down in the bed.

Her eyes adjusted to her surroundings, noticing the stone walls and high blue-painted ceiling. She wasn’t in a hospital but beds with wounded men lay all across the room. Women in nurses' uniforms hurried back and forth while medics helped work on the injured men.

There was still a hand resting on her shoulder and she glanced over to see the very worried, Cajun medic starting back at her.

“You gave me quite a scare back there you know. Damn Y/n, do n'tcha do that again,” he leant across, pulling her carefully into a hug which she quickly reciprocated.

“I’m sorry, Gene. I’ll try and be more careful next time,” she assured him, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

Eugene gave her a weak smile and opened his mouth to speak before snapping it closed. She cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting to hear what he wanted to say.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this. I don’t even know if you meant all that you said back there but I just… I just gotta tell you that I feel the same,” he took a deep breath, “I love you too.”

Y/n swallowed hard, had she confessed her feelings to him? She’d managed to hide her feelings for him ever since Toccoa and yet in a moment of weakness she spilled the beans. How many people heard her? Her mind raced with unanswered questions but Eugene’s face only grew more grave.

“I did wonder if you only said it cause you was dying,” he stood up from his chair, collecting his musette bag from the floor. “I’m glad you’re okay, Y/n. I’ll see you when you’re better, yeah?”

“Gene, wait! Do you really mean it? Do you really love me?” Her little outburst had caught the eye of a few of the wounded men around her, all watching with bated breath for the outcome.

“Course I do. I wouldn’t have told to if it won’t true,” he moved closer to her bed once more, moving to cup her cheek but only touching her when she nodded in response to his unasked question. “I love you, Y/n, ever since Toccoa.”

Y/n chuckled, “We’re such fools. We’ve both loved each other since Toccoa but we were too damn scared to say anything. I should have told you sooner.”

“And I shoudda told you sooner too. Guess at least we know now,” Gene reassured her, sitting down again beside her bed.

“That’s true,” she mused, shuffling so she could lean closer to him. “Gene?”

“Yes, Doll?”

“Kiss me.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Eugene sealed his lips to Y/n’s as if they had been kissing each other their whole lives. At least one good thing came from that Kraut bullet and that was Eugene Roe.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @bucky32557038ww2 @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @1waveshortofashipwreck

[bloodstainedsaint]

Hey, I'm not sure if you take requests, but if you do, I have an idea:) Could you write something about a young woman who was in the Air Force disguised as a man and her plane was hit by the Germans while under attack, forcing her to jump out, leaving her stranded with her plane down and easy company witnessed the whole thing and tries to look for the pilot?

maybe with some romance or whatever with my mans lieb or doc roe if that’s possible hihi

when worlds collide (joseph liebgott x air force! reader)

word count: 1000+

warnings: blood & injury, but nothing really graphic

notes: sorry for the wait on this one 😭 i've been busy BUT i promise to be posting more during my break

You didn't remember much after your plane was hit by German flak while passing over some Dutch forest you couldn't recall the name of. What you could remember was everything rapidly blinking and on fire around you, dials going this way and that, your hands flying around the control board and trying desperately to pull up with the yoke as you cursed violently beneath your breath.

Following your fruitless struggle against gravity, you remembered preparing to parachute out of your plane and into the woods beneath you.

You were pretty sure you blacked out for a while after that.

-

The sight of a fighter plane nosediving into the ground and its booming resulting crash interrupted an otherwise uneventful five-man patrol through the woods.

“Jesus Christ! Did you see that?” Babe exclaimed, gawking up at where the plane had been in the sky mere seconds ago.

“Looks like it landed near us,” Pat observed.

Don looked wide-eyed. “It was one of ours. The pilot might need our help if he ejected in time!”

Lip shushed them. “There's AA guns nearby. Someone ought to go back and tell Battalion they’re positioned somewhere to our left near that dike we passed. Christenson, you go.”

As Pat nodded and left the way they came, Lip said, “We can't take too long looking for a pilot we don't know is alive or not." He checked his watch and sighed. "Alright, meet back here at 1700. Stay alert. Don't go too far on your own.”

The squad spread out in search of the hopefully-alive pilot. Joe walked with his rifle at the ready for about 20 minutes before stumbling upon large chunks of debris from the plane. Not far from that was a severed parachute, and then a blood trail.

He followed it until he noticed a pilot sitting on the ground next to some brush with his back turned to him, his clothes torn up enough to where large parts of skin littered with cuts were visible. Joe slowly approached, mindful not to scare him and wind up with a bullet in his head.

“Hey,” he called out. “Hey, buddy.”

The pilot turned around, and Joe noticed that “he” was not a he at all.

Your hand shot to the pistol on your belt, leveling it at him while vainly covering up your top half. You’d been trying to treat your wounds with the first-aid kit strapped to your waist; you'd gotten several steadily bleeding scratches from falling through trees and one or two broken ribs from your hasty landing. You ended up taking off your corset to relieve pressure on your ribcage, leaving you with your ripped up uniform and coveralls.

Regardless of your relief that an American soldier had found you rather than a German one, you kept your hand fixed on your sidearm.

“Woah, lady, put down the gun. I'm not a Kraut.” Lowering his own gun, his narrowed eyes flashed to your chest and widened at the sight of the reddish purple bruises that blemished it. "Goddamn..."

“It’s not what it looks like,” you managed out, though talking (or breathing, for that matter) was difficult.

“I don’t care what it looks like,” he said, the edge to his tone softening as he carefully walked toward you. “You need help.”

You painfully exhaled and set the gun down next to you. You turned around again to focus on treating your injuries, wincing with the movement. “I'm fine.”

“You don't look it.” He crouched down next to you. You flinched away slightly — you'd been disguised as a man for a while now, and this was the first time anyone was seeing you so vulnerable since your enlistment — before letting him inspect your wounds, albeit with you concealing your chest with your arms and what remained of your jacket.

“What’s your name?” he asked, gingerly applying sulfa powder to the gashes on your body.

You slightly hissed at the stinging sensation. “(Y/N), Senior Airman, 4th Fighter Group.”

“Joseph D. Liebgott, Technician 5th Grade, 101st Airborne.”

There was a temporary silence, punctuated only by you sucking in air through your teeth. As he bandaged one of the cuts, he said, “We need to get you some help. I was out here on patrol with my squad; we have a medic back at—”

“What?” You looked at him with a bewildered expression. “No, I don't need any medic. I just need help informing my superiors I got lost going through dense fog and got shot down here.”

“Why not? ‘Cause he'll see you're a girl?”

You gave him a pointed look. “Why else? If you haven't noticed, there aren't very many women serving on the front lines.” You paused and took a deep breath in through your nose. “If you bring your squad over here, someone's gonna report me and get me kicked out of the Air Force…Hell, I don't even know if I trust you to not report me. I just met you, for Chrissakes.”

In truth, you didn’t even know why you were letting him tend to you anyways — you were capable of doing it yourself, your biggest secret was currently exposed, and he was a stranger. But there was something about his change in demeanor and a sudden tenderness in his voice once he saw your injuries that made you want to trust him.

“Your secret’s safe, (Y/N),” he said firmly, a set expression on his face. “I got no reason to rat you out; I just met you too.”

You scanned his face for any signs of deceit, sighed when you found none, and nodded. “I’m still not letting your medic take a look at me.”

“Fine, but that’s not gonna stop me from helping you. I’ll be quick; the guys are gonna be expecting me back soon. We’ll go talk to them together.”

He resumed his aid, and after a few minutes, you could tell that he had started getting curious; he didn't seem like a man who knew how to shut up.

“How’d you disguise yourself as a man this long?”

With a shaky inhale, you closed your eyes as his hands brushed over your rib cage. Involuntarily, a small smile made its way onto your face as the countless predicaments you’d found yourself in flooded your memory. “It’s a long story.”

Liebgott cracked a crooked smile. “I can make some time.”

Laughing despite the pain that flared in your rib cage from the action, you couldn't help but feel that this chanced occasion wouldn't be the last time you would speak to Liebgott. And for some reason foreign to you at that moment, you hoped that your intuition was correct.

-

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101

[softguarnere]

Hi, Dove!

I really love all your one-shots and headcanons! I haven’t read your OC work, but when I get the time, I’m super excited to start it.

Can I request a one-shot with Roe treating a soldier who he finds out is actually a girl disguised as a man, and her making him swear not to tell anyone? (Can be platonic or romantic). Possibly some little bits of conversation in French if it’s not too difficult? I won’t judge if you use Google translate😂French is hard.

No pressure, of course

Have a great day!

Where There is Injury

Eugene Roe x reader

A/N: (This is written for the fictional depiction from the show - no disrespect to the real veterans!) Hello friend! Thanks so much for sending in another request 🤗 I'm so glad you've enjoyed my other writing, so I hope you'll like this as well! I haven't spoken French in years, so this is most likely riddled with mistakes, but I tried haha. You have a great day as well! 💕 Warnings, PLEASE READ: this fic contains misgendering until the reader's secret is revealed, please do not read if that may be triggering for you! Also contains mentions of war, injury, and blood

“Medic!”

For what feels like the thousandth time, the word is screamed out into the woods, echoing off the charred stubs of trees as they attempt to reach the man who holds that job. One word, two syllables, yet so much responsibility tied to the title. So much pain on both the part of the person screaming and the person being screamed for.

It should be second nature by this point, with how often since arriving in Bastogne people have been wounded, been calling for help. There’s hardly ever a time when Eugene isn’t on the move, sprinting between foxholes and doing his best to dodge German artillery fire as he heads for whoever needs him – and all with little to no supplies.

Yet somehow, he finds that he has to urge and instruct himself on each next step. Vous vous levez, Eugene. Tu cours maintenant, Eugene. Tu aides les gens, Eugene.

And there he goes, boots crunching the snow underfoot as he runs toward the voice that calls for him. Pieces of the prayer that his mémère taught him as a child run through the back of his mind as he goes.

Seigneur, faites de moi un instrument de votre paix.

It’s Skinny Sisk. A piece of shrapnel has pierced his leg. Frank Perconte is trying to keep him still while he calls for a medic. Relief briefly flashes across his face when he sees Eugene appear.

“Save the morphine, Doc!” Sisk insists through gritted teeth. “I can make it.”

“You sure?”

Sisk hesitates. Then he nods, resolving himself to his fate as Eugene and Perconte raise him from the foxhole, adjusting their grip on him as they rush him towards the Jeep that’s arriving.

Là où il y a de la haine, que je mette l'amour.

Sisk screams in pain as Eugene and Perconte stumble forward. His wounded leg hits the ground first, even though they scramble to pick him up as quickly as they can.

“Aw, Jesus, Skinny, you got blood all over my trousers!” Perconte scolds.

“Gee, I’m real sorry, Frank!” Sisk hisses.

Là où il y a l'offense, que je mette le pardon.

They load Sisk onto the Jeep. Eugene starts to climb in after him. He hasn’t seen the town yet, but he needs whatever supplies they may be willing to spare, and he should make sure that Sisk gets there safely.

“Sorry,” the driver says, pressing a hand to Eugene’s chest to stop him from climbing in the vehicle.

Là où il y a la discorde, que je mette l'union.

He doesn’t argue. The company is desperate for supplies, but he’ll have to find some other way to get what they need. Instead he nods to the driver, stuffs his hands into his pockets to warm them, and starts back to his foxhole.

Là où il y a l'erreur, que je mette –

Gene stops in his tracks. In the snow at his feet there are spatters of blood staining the fresh white crystals that fell the night before. With the shellings that have happened this morning, it wouldn’t be so unusual, except that as far as he knows, no one out this way has been hit this morning. Even more curious is that when he stops walking, silencing the crunching of snow under his boots, he can hear fast breathing and the occasional groan coming from nearby.

His medic brain springs into action at once. Following the blood in the snow, Gene arrives at a foxhole that holds one person. The man sitting inside the earth is so preoccupied with trying to mop up the blood coming from his arm with a threadbare blanket that he doesn’t even notice Gene’s arrival until he drops down into the foxhole with him.

It’s (Y/L/N), one of the few Toccoa men that are left. His (Y/E/C) eyes go wide when Gene lands next to him, and he scrambles backwards, trying to get away, despite the fact that there’s nowhere for him to go.

“(Y/L/N), what happened?” Gene asks. He extends a hand. “Let me see.”

“No!” (Y/L/N) exclaims, trying in vain once again to push himself out of Gene’s reach. The word is harsh and said in a tone that Gene has never heard (Y/L/N) use before, but he ascribes all of that to the pain. (Y/L/N) must catch it too, though, because he clears his throat and says more calmly, “No, Doc, it’s nothing.”

Blood is seeping into the blanket he’s pressing to his arm. His eyes are wide and frantic. Gene supposes that he would most likely have a similar reaction if he found himself injured in this place. As much as he can empathize with (Y/L/N)’s reaction, he also needs to stand firm and help his fellow paratrooper.

“(Y/L/N), you gotta let me see,” Gene insists. He manages to remove the blanket from where it’s pressed against (Y/L/N)’s arm. Through the dark blood that stains the fabric of his sleeve, Gene can barely make out a horizontal gash along the other man’s arm. “I know it’s cold, but we need to take off your jacket so I can see your arm. Spina might – “

“No!” (Y/L/N)’s voice is low and harsh this time as he interrupts. “I don’t need Spina. I don’t need anything. It’s not that bad.”

“(Y/L/N), you’ve got blood everywhere! I can’t tell how bad it is unless you let me help you!”

“And then I’ll get sent to some aid station, and then they’ll send me home, or to jail, or worse.”

 Most of the men are willing to admit that they don’t like being sent to the aid station. (Y/L/N)’s reluctance to be sent there isn’t unusual. What is unusual are the other possibilities listed: jail or worse. Why would a wounded soldier be sent to jail? And what could be worse?

Eugene’s confusion must show on his face, because (Y/L/N) blinks, mouth falling shut, as if surprised by his own words. Whatever is happening here, it’s clearly much more than just a wounded arm.

“What do you mean by that?” Eugene ventures.

(Y/L/N) winces then, drawing a shaky breath, grip tightening on his arm. When he looks back up at Eugene, something has changed. His gaze softens, as does his voice, and his eyes are a little watery, though Eugene politely pretends not to notice the last part.

“I don’t want to come off the line,” (Y/L/N) says.

“That depends on how serious that is,” Eugene asserts, nodding to the wounded arm. “You gotta let me help you.”

They’re losing what might be precious time, yet (Y/L/N) still hesitates. Finally, he draws a deep breath and nods.

“Alright. Take off your jacket so that I can see how bad it is.”

Slowly, (Y/L/N) removes his jacket, wincing as he moves his injured arm. Jumping into action, Eugene helps him shrug out of it, not willing to lose more time or more blood because of a disagreement. They’ve just managed to remove the coat when Eugene feels (Y/L/N)’s gaze on him, heavy and challenging. What? he starts to ask when finally, he sees the reason for (Y/L/N) not wanting to remove his coat.

Or should he say, her coat.

“Oh.” He sits back on his heels, his brain rushing to connect all the information that’s just come at him in these past few minutes. (Y/L/N)’s insistence that Roe leave her alone, her assertion that something bad could happen to her, the bandages around her chest . . .

Il n'y a pas de temps pour ça, he reminds himself, once again instructing himself on what to do next. Réparer ce bras. Posez vos questions plus tard.

Luckily for the both of them, the wounds on (Y/L/N)’s arm aren’t that serious – a few gashes from shrapnel, but nothing that needs stitching up. For her sake, Eugene tries to keep the mood light when he finishes bandaging her up. “I’ll make sure you get a Purple Heart for it.”

Shrugging back into her coat, (Y/L/N) offers him a tight-lipped smile. Several times she draws a breath as if to speak, only to stop herself, allowing the foxhole to remain in its vacuum of silence.

“I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Eugene finally assures her. This must have been what she was worried about, because relief washes over her face, although its quickly replaced with a suspicious brow raise.

“Why not?”

“Well, why would I?” Really, why would he? It’s none of his business. Not really. Besides, if (Y/L/N) has made it all the way from Toccoa to Bastogne with this secret, then she’s pretty good at keeping it. It’s been years, after all, and Eugene never would have suspected. And, he reasons, to give up her life to disguise herself as a man and become a paratrooper – well, that’s definitely taken some guts, whatever her reasons. Reasons that he doesn’t know, but that he’s starting to wonder about.

Ce ne sont pas mes affaires, Eugene reminds himself. Still, though . . .

“Well, thank you,” (Y/L/N) says with a curt nod. Then she lets out a deep sigh, burying her head in her hands. When she emerges again, she has an air of resolve about her. “Would you . . . As long as you’re not going to tell anyone, that is, could you – could you help me keep this secret safe?” She won’t quite meet his gaze when she confesses, “It can get a little lonely.”

Whatever Eugene was expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. But he can understand what she’s talking about, the loneliness of this place. Especially as a medic. “Of course.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. Still a little bloody, she extends a hand to him. “(Y/N),” she says. “Nice to properly meet you.”

He shakes her hand in kind; she’s got a very confident handshake. “You as well.”

It really is, he must admit. Strange, how in just a few chance moments, some of the cold loneliness of Bastogne has begun to melt away.

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 5- Just You

Summary:  An unexpected resistance to a German attack causes Liebgott an injury. The experience brings emotions to head between you and Liebgott.

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

Chapter takes place 1x5 Crossroads 

*I have loved you for several hours now, and every second more. I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. There is no room in my body for anything but you. * -The Princess Bride, William Goldman

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

~~~~~~~ 

October 1944 

Easy Company set up in an abandoned barn as a headquarters and aid station in Schoonderlogt, Holland. Most of Easy Company had been inside awaiting the return of the reconnaissance patrol that left at sunset to see if any Germans were near the village. Liebgott leading the mission had been gone for several hours. 

Eugene insisted you get some sleep, but you only sat in the bunk, your mind too busy to even close your eyes. Talbert with his newfound companion, Trigger (a German Shepard ironically), was a nice distraction while Joe was gone. As you were petting the dog, the barn door burst open alarming everyone and bringing everyone to their feet. 

“Penetration!” one of the soldiers called out carrying another soldier injured. 

“It’s Alley!” Talbert yelled. 

“Alley’s hurt!” Liebgott shouted. 

“Boyle, get Doc.” Winters instructed then looked at Liebgott, “Where?” 

“Crossroads.” Liebgott replied. You notice he took a dressing and pressed it against his neck. 

“Liebgott-” you called to him, but another soldier interrupted you. 

“Well, if it wasn’t for your loud mouth-” he started to accuse Joe. 

You tried again but louder, “Lieb-” 

“-Hey, you know what? Back off!” Liebgott shot back as Roe pushed through the gaggle. 

“Get the boots off, elevate...Lieb use the sulfur...” Doc directed. 

“JOE!” You barked over the commotion.  

“Goddam it, WHAT?” He snarled back at you with a heavy look of annoyance. 

“Get over here and let me look at your neck.” you directed sternly. 

“It’s just a scratch.” He dismissed. 

You huff audibly, losing your patience and giving him a side glance. 

“Joe, let her take a look. We got this over here.” Doc insisted. 

Liebgott sighed reluctantly rolling his eyes and made his way to you. 

He stood tall in front you, refusing to look you in the eyes as you gently directed his head by the chin to his left to expose the injured site where he still held the dressing. You know he was trying to hide how bad it really was, so you decided to kill him with kindness to get him to do what you needed to do to help him. 

Your voice sweet and subtle, “Joe...” 

He hummed in response. 

“Move your hand. Please?”  

He quickly looked down at you, no smile or any real sign of emotion, just searching your eyes for something unknown to you. You feel your eyes widen as this unexpected attention from Joe unnerved you. It’s not a look that you experienced from him before. He almost looked like a ravenous animal. 

You stood your ground, staring back at him expectantly waiting for him to remove his hand from his neck. 

His hand slowly dropped without breaking eye contact. 

You make your hands busy with the messy dressing on his neck and see an angry laceration, but not deep enough to make it life threating. You were less worried, but it still needed attention. 

“You’re lucky.” You stated. 

“Am I?” he replied curtly. 

You ignored his cold response. 

“It wasn’t deep enough to affect the artery, so you won’t bleed out, but I’m still going to dress it right so you don’t get an infection.” you explained. 

“Great.” his tone unenthusiastic and sarcastic. Again, you chose to remain silent. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction by taking his bait to argue. 

“Ok, Joe, you’re good.” you tell him, running your thumb affectionately along his jawline. 

He felt goosebumps rise on his skin from your soft touch and shot you a look of confusion. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth slightly open, you thought he was going to say something. He thought he was going to say something too, but he stood there gaping at you, breathing heavy again searching your face for something unknown to either of you. You meet his perplexed look with one of your own and squint your eyes at him wondering what it was you did wrong to earn such a response from him.  

His jaw tightened as he closed his mouth and softened his eyes. No smile, no sign of affection, he nods to you then turned on his heel to collect his gear when Winters announced they were heading to the crossroads to re-engage with the Germans there to gain control of that position. 

You were utterly dumbfounded by how Joe treated you. You know he can get moody and explosive when his adrenaline races like that. He had a deep-rooted hatred for the Germans and was probably pissed he got nicked by one of them in the field, and now he was out for revenge. His anger clouded his judgement, and you suffered the blunt end of his attitude even though you had nothing to do with it. 

And it had nothing to do with you. He felt terrible for not at least saying ‘thank you’ before he left. He turned his back on you after you cared for his wound so gently and attentively, and he hated himself for it after walking out of that barn. He had hurtling thoughts of doubt, regret...sentiment. He couldn’t turn back now, though. He was on his way to deal with the Krauts that had the audacity to attack him and his team that day.  

~~~~~~~ 

Easy Company took victory at the crossroads the following morning. The Germans fled leaving dozens of their comrades killed or seriously wounded. Eleven of them are captured. The Americans on their side count one dead and 22 wounded. 

Winters approaches an angry Liebgott taking potshots at the still-living Germans crawling over the bodies of their dead comrades, trying to escape the field.  

“Joe?” 

Liebgott continued to pick off Germans like a turkey shoot.    “-Joe, knock it off!” Winters ordered 

“Goddam it, what?” Liebgott barked back. 

Winters noticed his neck bandages were saturated with his own blood. 

“You’re bleeding.” Winters identified. 

“Ah, it's nothin', Cap.” Liebgott replied bluntly. 

“Take these prisoners to CP and get cleaned up.” Winters instructed. 

Liebgott looked a little too eager, “Yes, sir. Come on, Kraut boys.” 

Believing that a furious Liebgott can't be trusted, Winters orders him to drop all his ammo and removes all but one round from Joe's rifle telling him that killing one prisoner will prompt the others to attack and possibly kill him and escape.  

“I want all prisoners alive.” Winters reminded. 

Joe paused before replying, “Yes sir,” resentfully. 

~~~~~~~ 

Liebgott burst through the barn door, obviously still fuming he had to babysit German prisoners and not get any extra hits in. It was more than they deserved even if they did surrender. 

You were finishing up some wound care on another soldier when Joe had come in. Even in his intimidating state, you were exhilarated to see him alive. You rush over to him and notice his neck bandages saturated in red. Your joy quickly turned to panic as you went to touch his arm. 

He turned around viscously shrugging your hand off him and met your stare with horror after he realized he had almost hurt you. His chest heaving, and eyes wild, it took him a few seconds to regain his bearings. 

You were actually frightened at first but didn’t back away too much from him since he still needed medical attention. 

“Joe?” you ask cautiously. 

He swallowed hard then softened his stance, “I was told to get this fixed up.” He replied as he gestured to his neck. 

You nod, “Ok, Lieb, over here.”  

You lead him over to a more secluded space in another part of the barn that you used to triage patients. After his little ‘floor show’ you decided he needed a safe space to decompress. He slumped down on the cot in the room with a huff and stared at his boots. 

You went to the shelves with the supplies you needed, grabbing clean dressings, gauze, and peroxide. You sat yourself next to Joe and prepared everything to tend to his neck. He winced when you pulled the partially blood encrusted wrapping. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. He only side eyed you as a response. 

You soaked the gauze with the antiseptic, then pressed it to his wound. He hissed from the sting. 

“Sorry, Joe. I have to make sure it’s clean.” you explained. 

“Mmhm.” He hummed, “Just do it.” he added in a low voice. 

You continued working on him quietly. The air was heavy in the room. You hoped he would open up to you. It was clear he had been bottling something up. He won’t even offer a glance to acknowledge you. 

You unravel the new dressing placing the padded part to his wound, then lean in closer to loop the ends around his neck like a scarf to secure it in place. As you repeat this action, you were required to keep nearing his face with yours. Still refusing to look at you, he remained looking at his boots and you admired how long his lashes were as he looked down. You finish the wrap tucking the end in, and you couldn’t stop yourself, 

“Joe, look at me.” you requested. 

He sighs irritably, rolling his eyes and meets your concerned gaze. 

You study his face, bringing your hand to his forehead to gently sweep away his hair. He looked you up and down skeptically, unsure what was happening. A new concoction of emotions simmered inside him when he felt your fingers combing his hair back out of his face.  

Angst...elation...hunger...want...need...He had no idea what was happening with him. And it seemed to intensify while he was sitting there with you. Even in the midst of combat he doesn’t feel this level of fight or flight response. His breath hastened as his heart rate accelerated. He straightened up and faced you, bringing his hand to yours, softly grabs your wrist pulling it away from his hair not taking his eyes away from your face. 

Your breath hitched in your chest as your heart pounded so hard you were sure he could hear it as well. Your eyes widened seeing his eyes dark and blown out from something deep beneath the surface unknown. The small space between you is intense and unnerving.  

Joe’s POV 

*“Look at her... Even after how I’ve treated her, she’s still being so good to me. I don’t deserve this...I don’t deserve her. Every time she touches me it's like electrical currents shocking my entire body. How does she do it? What I wouldn’t do for her to just grab my face and just lay one on me and never pull away. Jesus Christ get it together, Liebgott, she probably hates you now. But if I leave now, anything could happen and neither of us would know...anything. I won’t leave her until I know.”* 

“Joe?” you wave your free hand he wasn’t holding in front of his face. He shook his head snapping out of his thoughts. 

“You’re all cleaned up now. You can go back to the guys or take a few minutes and stay to regroup.” you suggest. 

You stand to leave but Joe doesn’t release your hand. You furrow your brows confused. 

“You need something else?” you ask. 

Joe stood gripping your shoulders to face you square with him. His mouth curled into a slight grin. With intent behind his eyes and urgency in his touch, he finally speaks directly to you. 

“Just you.” he purrs. 

Your jaw slacked from shock. You look up at him through your lashes, your iris's doe-like and glistening. Words as well as breath failed to leave your mouth. You felt dizzy and faint, your entire sternum burning like you had just taken a swig of Vat 69. You feel Joe steady you as you slightly sway backward. He kneaded your arms affectionately making you a melting mess in his strong slender hands. 

“-me?” you choked as you placed your hand over where your heart was ready to explode from. 

He nodded deliberately and slowly, “-only you.”  

Your skin and insides tingled causing you to tremble. You take a deep breath trying to regain your composure. 

“Where is this coming from, Joe?” you finally ask. 

He shrugged, “It’s always been there. Buried deep down and just grew bigger every day. I just can’t keep it down anymore, you know?” he explained. 

You beam at him, partially lost in your own thoughts calculating the situation you found yourself in with him at that moment. You avert your eyes downward releasing a soft chuckle. You shake your head, 

“Joe, I-” 

“-Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same, Y/N.” he dared. 

You meet his eager stare, “Of course I do, Joe,” you respond in a desperate breathy voice, “I have spent this past year worrying myself sick about you, and at first, I couldn’t figure out why! I have been fighting it every single day and I am exhausted from it. I lose sleep when you’re on patrol without me, and the few hours I can get, I have night terrors that you return to me maimed and bloody, scaring me wide awake! I swear I have more gray hair from this.”  

You went off on this tangent, pacing back and forth in the small room not realizing how much you just confessed, but Joe once again remained silent just mesmerized by you absorbing every word you say. 

“So, you do feel the same.” he confirmed standing taller with a gratifying smirk. 

You turn to him, your eyes beginning to gloss over with tears, “Joe, *I have loved you for several hours now, and every second more. I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. It goes on and on, Joe. There is no room in my body for anything but you. *” 

Each of you standing opposite the other, you're practically panting from the overwhelming flow of emotions and lack of breath you forgot to take. You await the next venture to unfold. 

Without a word, Joe swiftly closed the gap between you, and before you could even gasp, he pulled you in by the back of your head locking his lips onto yours.  

~~~~~~~

[blurredcolour]

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Richard "Dick" Winters

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under

[Series | Complete]

Take These Broken Wings

[One-shot]

Lewis "Lew/Nix" Nixon

Lavender's Blue, Lavender's Green

[One-shot]

I Wish You Love

[Series | Complete]

Ronald "Ron" Speirs

In The Bleak Mid-Winter

[One-shot]

C. Carwood "Lip" Lipton

It's Better This Way

[Mini-series | Complete]

Eugene "Doc" Roe

We'll Meet Again | Born to Be Yours

[One-shot] [Sequel]

>>> return to main masterlist

[pookielious]

Hold Me Closer

eugene roe x babe heffron

☆

It had been only a few hours since gene had patched heffron up, they where still at the line, planning to move forward into a small town  in attempts to gain more territory. Bastogne was in ruins, the bodies left in the ruins of the town where far to dangerous to get out right now, but Bastogne was still used as a aid station it was the best they could do till another supply drop would come , hopefully in the near future. 

It had been a relatively quiet day at least for the front, some firing here and there but nothing easy company hadn't seen before

"So where'd you get this auh?" Heffron spoke up finally , looking  at the stripped blue fabric of his make shift bandage "Kraut drop it or sumn'thin?",

"No" gene answered tiredly "found it in bastogne— when we took Gordon I think" he said,  his eyes on his hands, beat up and stained with dried blood 

"I heard you tellin'  winters about bastogne, is it really that bad there?" Heffron question,  shifting a bit to but his hands in his pockets

"Its in ruins ," he answered honestly " they bombed the whole thing" he stared off at his hands , picking at the blood under his finger nails as he reimagined the scene of it all, fires and the cracking sound of the wood houses giving "nothin' left but they're still taking wounded men there"

"Gave us a merry Christmas " babe retorted sarcastically, Renée is all that Eugene thought about , for chrismas they'd taken her away, his chrismas gift was all that was left of her. A scarf. "Right" Eugene said in reply so much for a christmas 

" 'ey Gene?"

"Hm?" He hummed glancing red at the redhead

"Merry christmas " babe smiled softly

" merry chrismas heffron" 

Babe laughed a little laying back in the fox hole "are you ever gonna stop with the 'heffron' shit?" He questioned

"Probably not" he said truthfully, he didn't fancy calling people by their nick names, it just made things alot easier at least  in his mind. just as babe opened his mouth to talk the two heard a shot then strangely enough a splash the two looked at eachother confusedlt; gene straightened up  and babe grabbed his gun, crouching and looking over at the line, nothing ?

"Medic !" A familiar voice called out

The two waited a second 

"Doc!" The same voice called out

"Was that a sniper?" Babe said confusedly looking at Eugene who stood up from his crouching position  "I don't know"

"Go! Com'on" heffron said quickly peeking over the foxhole at the line , he figured it was just a sniper or somthing  he saw no other shots or any sort of flashing and Gene complied getting out of the hole and running to where the same voice called him

A he was close to the line he knew that, there was a short drop down a small hill he hadn't seen and he practically rolled down it

"Doc !? You okay?!" A voice yelled out, different than the one before , joe toye he figured out  "im fine!" Gene continued and stood up , making his way towards toye again as he saw another figure and half of another one , he would've paused if it wasn't for the adrenaline rushing through his body from the fall and the sniper "What's going on—" the ground shook and the sky flashed "wouldya get me out!" Luz , who was the half body gene had seen yelled "yer gonna get me shot!"  The man shivered, flopping like a fish to try and wiggle himself out if the water, it was a almost humorous to watch

due to the shock to his muscles and the weight of his gear it was a useless effort Gene looked confusedly, he was half submerged in a now ,leibgott,  who had been the 3rd figure gene had saw was trying to left him out  

The 3 managed to get him out without getting  shot, he was drenched he had been fully submerged for only a few seconds but he'd been in the water for a good minute, enough time partnered with the cold it was good enough to get him a bad case of hypothermia "toye go get a jeep! And some blankets, towels, anything we need to get him dry !" Toye nodded and ran off ahead of the two,  leibgott and gene carried Luz who had started shivering violently

Once they got back up to the company they set Luz down and started getting all of his gear and top layers of clothes off "ain't that gonna make him more cold?!" Liebgott questioned rather loudly "he's gon' freeze to death if we dont!" 

Toye came back running with a blanket , nearly tripping over someone's fox hole and a few  sticks and the ground that where to be used as camouflage  for the foxholes "dry him off quickly!" Gene ordered and the 3 started to rub him off rather aggressively with the cover,  gene knew they couldn't have a fire for them nor would he be able to start of quick enough with wet hands, he stood up, ripping the medic arm band off of his jacket that was held on with some strategic sewing and mostly safety pins and stuffed the syrettes and morphine into his back before also taking that off, he then unzipped his jacket and knelt back down with the help of leibgott he got it onto Luz "awh– d-oc youre-" where the only words Luz could get out

The jeep pulled up with in seeing distance and the 3 got up , picking Luz back up again "don't you worry about me" gene insisted, gene let go of Luz and grabbed his sopping wet equipment, placing them in the passenger seat  foot rests of the jeep "toye, go with him make sure they get him  inside of somewhere,  broken building or anything that'll get him protected from the wind, ya here?" Toye nodded and hopped into the passenger seat at as jeep sped away.

At first the feeling of cold hadn't him, he'd noticed the strange looks he'd gotten from most of 2nd battalion he'd saw as he ran around , bandaging wounds, mostly accidental ones from being scared by the sudden shoots but after the adrenaline had finally wore off it came at him hard, gene really wasn't made t  handle the cold all that much, Louisiana was a much more hotter climent then western Europe . he made is rounds, checking up on everyone else incase he'd missed anything or to hear if they needed anything as usual , buck had taken a notice as gene stopped at his foxhole 

"Where your jacket?" Buck started, looking up at him as he ate a makeshift snowcone with the powered lemonade that was common amongst the soliders 

"With George Luz sir" gene managed, crouched next to the foxhole, holding himself to keep some warmth

"Luz?" buck questioned,  the confusion plastered is normally plain expression, dancing around in his ice blue eyes "Why does Luz have it?"

"Needed it more then me, " gene continued "Germans lured toye 'n him  with some supplies — they ain't notice it was over some frozin' over lake" he shifted slightly, he knew he needed to stay moving in order to lessen the feeling of cold "liebgott tried to get them outta there but snipe cracked the ice, Luz fell right in" 

Buck sighed softly "right" the blonde nodded, thinking for a moment  " check with Nixon and winters they're probably hanging about , see if they can do anything for you"

Gene simply nodded and stood up, continuing his arounds

He hasn't managed to spot nixon or winters, they always went around in a pair so he doubted he'd find just one of them sitting around, he got back to his foxhole and jumped in, curling up in it as he shivered helplessly. the cold stung his arms  and there was nothing he could do about it 

"Woah there" he heard the familiar Philadelphian accent of Edward "correct me if I'm wrong doc but I 'on think stripping is gonna keep you all that warm" 

"Real Perceptive heffron" he spoke through his shivering

"What happened?" Heffron hopped into the hole, putting his gun down along with his helmet

"Luz fell into a lake, gave it to him" gene summarized to save from explaining for the 3rd time that day

"Here," heffron took off his scarf and crawled on his knees closer to the medic, wrapping the scarf around his neck and part of his face "my grandma used to wrap me up like his" heffron tucked the end of the scarf back into itself so it wouldn't come loose and unwrapped 

"Never needed to be wrapped like this before" 

"Your from the south right?" 

Gene nodded "Louisiana, bayou chou" 

"Ever fought a croc? Yall got those down there yeah?"

"Not dumb enough to so no— I used to see'em alot when I was younger, my grandfather wrestled one right infront of me once" 

"I saw one in the zoo once" there wasn't any crazy wild animals in Philadelphia, it was a major city after all, nothing crazy like the costal states like Louisiana "had–" he laughed a little " had a pigeon trynna steal my cheese steak one time, never fought somthing harder in my life" 

Gene smiled a bit at the sheer image Of Edward trying to fight a pigeon off 

Heffron stood up half way peering over edge of the foxhole "aye' garnere?"

"Aeh?" The man hummed, peaking up from his hole

"Ya Got a blanket? Docs cold" 

There was A brief pause as Bill presumably looked around "yeah" Bill said , balling up the blanket and throwing it over to heffron"thanks" the other said as he caught the blanket

He looked down at gene, he looked pitiful ,his nose and cheeks where a rosy pink color while the rest of him had palen more then usual, his teeth chattering so hard he could hear it, heffron knelt back down again and wrapped him in the blanket "how about we get you into town doc?" Heffron offered, putting his hands on genes shoulders above the blankets and rubbing the to make some sort of heat with the friction 

"I have to stay on the line, case of anymore of those bombs " the southerner sighed softly  , holding the blanket shut with his hands 

"Right" heffron bit his lip , there wasn't many ways to stay warm in the front lines, especially without all of the promised snow gear that hadn't gotten to them yet,  much less without at least a jacket but just then a idea popped in his head

He gently took oneside of the blanket and sat next to gene, closing the blanket  with the hand and wrapping his other around the medic "whatdya' doing?" Gene asked quietly "keeping you warm— somone aughta do it " the ginger smiled proudly , gently rubbing Eugene side with his ungloved hand , Eugene simply accepted his fate, there wasn't much else he could do if he wanted to avoid frost bite, gene tiredly leaned against heffron , resting his head on his shoulder

The two stayed like that for a while, Essentially cuddled up as the sun started to lower more, there hadn't been any attacks since Luzs , gene had figured this meant the the Germans had turnt in for the holiday, the chrismas joy had carried throughout the line, the sounds of singing and laughing was heard throughout the camp, much to the dismay of those trying to keep the group of loudmouthed men quiet, the singing had lowered but hadn't came to a complete stop, the sheer chrismas cheer seemed to have made the Lieutenants and commanders let it slide just this once, for the morale of the soldiers 

Edward and Eugene had been half asleep in their foxhole, babes idea of warming him up had worked somewhat, it had managed to warm him up to enough to stop the teeth chattering, it wasnt to the same effect as having a jacket on but it was relieving enough to keep him from hypothermia 

"Thanks babe" gene finally spoke 

The words made the ginger grin ear to ear 

"Course' genie" 

"Genie, huh"  Eugene closed his eyes

"Could be eugina or sumn' if you prefer" babe joked, gently stroking genes side

"No, I like that" 

[donovanlizzie]

Reunion pt2

MASTERLIST

BAND OF BROTHERS MASTERLIST

PART 1

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

The days melded into nights amid the relentless chaos of the battlefield, each moment fraught with tension and uncertainty. For Eugene 'Doc' Roe, the memory of Y/n lingered like a beacon of hope amidst the darkness of war.

Once a distant acquaintance from high school, she was constantly on his mind, a reminder of a world beyond the brutality they faced daily.

His comrades began to notice his preoccupation, especially Edward 'Babe' Heffron, who settled beside him in the foxhole one evening, concern etched in his features.

"You've been quieter than usual, Roe. What's eating at you?" Babe prodded, his tone gentle yet insistent.

Roe hesitated, torn between the weight of his thoughts and the instinct to keep them hidden.

But as Babe persisted, the words spilled out almost involuntarily. "I ran into an old school friend at the hospital," he confessed, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"She's a medic for Dog Company." Babe's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Well, well, well, looks like Roe's been holding out on us," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Roe's anxiety surged. "Keep it down, Babe! This is serious," he urged, a sense of urgency in his tone. "Her name's Y/n," he added, the weight of his secret finally lifted off his shoulders.

Babe held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, lips are sealed," he promised, understanding the gravity of the situation.

They fell into a companionable silence, mindful of the need for sound discipline in their company.

" wow - Y/N huh? she must be some dame!" Babe joked, elbowing Eugene, both trying to stop shivering.

" she was somethin'" Eugene drawled, looking up into the night sky.

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

Months later, the Easy Company boys found themselves in Austria, the war in Europe over, but the battle in the Pacific still raging.

After being informed by Speirs that Easy Company would be deployed into the Pacific, morale was shattered once again.

"We will be training for war at 06:00," Speirs announced solemnly.

Eugene turned his head slightly, catching sight of someone he never thought he'd see again, Y/n , standing at the end of the platoon line. He felt a mix of emotions—relief to see her, yet sickened at the thought of her joining them in the Pacific.

"Eugene," she hummed, walking through the dispersing men.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" Roe asked, his voice filled with concern.

"It's the end of the war in Europe, Gene. Pretty sure half the US Army is here-," she replied with a small smile.

She sighed after seeing his face contort into a sour expression, "I didn't have enough points to go home, so I asked for a transfer."

Roe pulled back slightly, his hands gently placed on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes, searching for any trace of doubt or fear. But all he found was unwavering strength and determination mirrored back at him.

"I was worried sick when I heard about the hospital bombing back in Bastogne," he admitted, squinting in the sunlight.

Y/n nodded, her gaze steady. "It was rough, but we were out in the field when it happened," she explained, a hint of sorrow in her voice. "A few good men got caught up in it all."

As they stood together, a sense of peace settled over them, a brief respite before they were thrown back into war again.

Then, some of the Easy boys clocked the two of them, shuffling over quickly. The group included Edward Babe Heffron, George Luz, Perconte, Joe Liebgott, and Webster.

Babe's eyes widened in realization as he approached, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, well, well, who do we have here? You gonna introduce us, Doc?" he exclaimed, nudging his comrades with an elbow.

"Roe's been keeping this one locked away, ain't he?" George spoke up, grinning at the two of them.

"What's this, Roe? Found yourself a sweetheart?" Perconte teased, a hint of humor in his voice.

Roe's cheeks flushed slightly as he exchanged a sheepish glance with Y/n. "Uh, guys, this is Y/n. She's the medic for Dog Company," he introduced, a note of warmth in his tone. "She's transferred to Easy now - she's gonna be jumping with us."

Babe stepped forward, extending his hand to Y/n with a grin. "I'm Babe Heffron, pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Roe's is a friend of ours," he said warmly, his easygoing demeanor putting Y/n at ease.

Y/n returned the handshake, a smile playing at her lips. "Nice to meet you all," she greeted, her voice laced with genuine warmth.

"Dog company, huh? You must know our captain, Speirs?" Joe Liebgott asked, curiosity evident in his tone.

Y/n chuckled, nodding her head. "Oh yeah, good ol' Speirs. Terrifying, isn't he?" she joked, a playful glint in her eyes. "But a damn good captain. We were all sorry to lose him to you Easy boys. - I'm glad to be in his company again for this, I'll tell you that much!"

The boys laughed at her remark. "Hey, we're on our way to play a little baseball - why don't you join us? Seeing as you're the newest medic for Easy!"

She agreed, letting the boys lead the way, while Roe lingered behind, slyly linking his arm with hers as they walked towards the baseball field.

The baseball game was in full swing, and for some, including Y/n, it was the first time they had genuinely smiled in months. They pushed the thought of jumping into the Pacific to the backs of their heads and tried to revel in the last moments of peace.

It was Roe's turn to hit the ball, and Perconte pitched. Roe swung with all his might, sending the ball soaring into the distance. Compton caught it and threw it directly to Y/n, who stood at the base Roe was running to.

"You're out, Medic man," she smirked as she caught the ball.

Roe stood up, a playful glint in his eye that even the Easy boys hadn't seen before. The two got up from the ground together, and Y/n felt her breath hitch as he took a step towards her.

"Na-a-a, get back, Mr.," she smirked, gently pushing at his chest, laughing slightly.

Just then, Winter and Nixon walked over with news, standing next to Speirs who called out to Easy to form a school circle. "Listen up - We've got some news," Winter said calmly. "This morning, President Truman received the unconditional surrender from the Japanese."

"The war is over,"

As soon as the words left Winter's mouth, the impact of the news reverberated through the gathered soldiers. Y/n's hand flew to her mouth in shock before instinctively reaching for Eugene's, seeking reassurance amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

She turned her head immediately to look at him, her eyes searching his face for confirmation, for solace.

Eugene, like the rest of them, wore a mixture of disbelief and relief etched into his features, the weight of years of hardship and sacrifice momentarily lifted from his shoulders.

As the words sank in, a wave of euphoria washed over the group. Some of the boys couldn't contain their joy any longer, and they erupted into cheers and whoops, their jubilant voices cutting through the tension that had lingered for so long.

Smiles broke out across faces that had grown accustomed to weariness and sorrow, and hugs were exchanged between comrades who had fought side by side through the darkest of days.

Caught up in the elation of the moment, Eugene acted on pure instinct. Without thinking, he swept Y/n up into his arms, her laughter ringing out like music amidst the cacophony of celebration. He spun her around in a full circle, the sheer relief and joy of the moment coursing through his veins like wildfire.

As they laughed together, he couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to kiss her.

Their passionate kiss elicited a few hoots and hollers from the surrounding men, the sound of their laughter serving as a backdrop to the intimate moment shared between her and Eugene.

In that fleeting instant, amidst the jubilation and the chaos, they found solace in each other's arms, a silent acknowledgment of all they had endured and all they had overcome.

"The war is over," Y/n whispered breathlessly as they finally broke apart, her voice filled with disbelief and wonder. And in that moment, standing amidst the jubilant throng of soldiers, Eugene knew that no matter what the future held, as long as they were together, they could weather any storm.

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

Tagged : @she-wolf09231982

[sir-mr-dr-roe]

WIP

thanks for the wip tag @im-chinese-believe-it-or-not !!

calling ALL mutuals: please consider yourself tagged, I want to see what everyone is working on

here's a bit of a rough teaser for the Speirs/Roe fic im working on :)

“Get each of these men to a medic. Now.” Winters barked, one hand squarely against Speirs' chest. “I don’t need a medic” Speirs slurred, eyes never leaving Cobb. “He, however, is going to need a priest.”  “Yes. You do.” Winters said bluntly, ignoring the threat. Before he could continue, he was cut off by the sound of a door swinging open behind them. “Woah, woah, woah,” Nix stumbled over the doorway, bottle of whisky in hand. His thick eyebrows twisted as he took in the scene. “The hell’d I miss?”  “Christ,” Winters said beneath a sigh. He shot a stern look at Nixon, before scanning the room for the least intoxicated men. “Webster, Lipton, can you handle Him?” The two nodded in unison, each slinging one of the lieutenant's arms over their shoulder. “I don’t need a goddamn medic,” he spat. “Major’s orders.” Lipton’s tone was calm and matter-of-fact as he lead them out the door. .... Gene heard the thumping of boots outside and was already on his feet before they opened the door. “He got into a fight,” Webster answered the question in Roe's eyes with an exhale. As they lowered the lieutenant into a chair, Doc glared up from the man’s wounds, his face wrought with disapproval. “Alright, I think we’re fine here.” Speirs attempted to dismiss them, clearly agitated. Webster and Lipton shared a glance before looking to Roe. Gene sucked air between his teeth and looked away, hoping to hide the flush in his face. Unsure what was worse; to be alone with Ron, or to share an audience with him. “I can handle it.” he nodded assuringly after a moment, though nobody in the room was quite sure they believed him. “If he uh, gets violent...” Webster trailed off as he noticed the daggers in Speirs' eyes, looking black as a shark’s in this lighting. “I trust the lieutenant will behave himself.” Roe said sternly, avoiding eye contact with everybody at this point. Lipton and Web shared one last glance, but respected the medic’s decision. “Don’t make me regret that.” Doc muttered once they were alone, still not bringing his eyes to meet Ron’s. “Now let me see.”

Thanks so much for reading, i'm always always open for feedback

tagging: @liptonwashere @rain-lavender-rain @lovememadly92 @murkwaterrsss @lewis-winters @iceman-kazansky @aegondluvrs @footprintsinthesxnd @teabights @goneandbackagain @kaikai1324 @softguarnere @almost-a-class-act @hesbuckcompton-baby @luckyricochet if you're got anything you wanna share, no pressure!!

[joenotexotic99]

Hello Hon'! New fan here! I'm loving all your Band of Brothers works 💗 😻 I was wondering if I could, please, request for some headcanoons of Eugene Roe X German nurse? (Like she being captured by the American soldiers or something like that) There are so few works about this sweet medic and I love how you write. ✨😊 (Feel free to decline the ask if you aren't comfortable with it, no worries ^^ )

Sorry this took so long. This feels a bit rushed i apologize. Thank you all for being patient. I do really appreciate it. <3

Masterlist

Word count: 1,130

You were the sole medic at a med station. It was small, and you worked with limited resources, but you made do with what you had.

It was cold and wet however, you had a roof over your head, unlike the cold, unbearable foxholes of Bastogne.

It was a quiet day. A thing here, a thing there. Check up on your comrades. Finally, getting to the small things like cuts and bruises that you simply didn't have time for.

It was the dead of night. You had left for no more than fifteen minutes. You were expecting a shipment of morphine, penicillin, sulfa, and bandages. It was quiet, peaceful almost. So, you figured it was a good time to get things in order for tomorrow.

You made your way back with the crate, setting it down. You were taking everything out, humming a tune. Not too far from where you were, you heard the sound of glass shattering. And not even thirty seconds after the sound of a grenade.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were running to the commotion.

When you got there, there was yelling, running, and shots being fired. The next thing you knew, there was a hand on your shoulder.

You were dragged and pushed into a plastic inflatable boat and taken across the river. You saw on another boat with a hurt American soldier. He looked to have half his face burned.

You were dragged along with the other prisoners off down into some basement like room.

You were confused, trying to make sense of the situation. The hurt American was thrashing and had to be held down. You wanted to help, but you knew where you stood.

Someone went to fetch a medic. Guns were being pointed at your face. The boy was screaming that he didn't want to die. God, all you did was want to help. It's why you joined in the first place, to be a medic, to help.

Soon you saw the medic come in. Everyone became silent. Watching as the doc did his work, He seemed gentle, the medic. The boy seemed to trust him.

They went to move him, probably to get better medical attention. However, something went off right outside the doorway; they set him back down on the floor.

He died; Jackson seemed to be his name. You could tell his wounds were fatal and that he wasn't going to make it. This didn't make it any easier.

You didn't even know him. He was a stranger. Yet, you felt this lump in your throat. It wasn't fair. He looked so young. He should have died of old age with the love of his life. Not in some dirty basement.

The way everyone was so attentive and caring towards this one man, how silent the crowd got after his passing.

The medic took of his helmet. He looked up, and his eyes met yours. You saw that he recognized your medic uniform.

His eyes were soft. The eyes only someone like him would have. Someone whose job was to help and heal people.

That night, after you were questioned, you sat outside against a building. You asked for the medic's name. Eugene roe, it was a pretty name, it suited his face, those eyes.

”You wanna smoke” You looked up to see Eugene. A hand out with a cigarette.

”Not my thing, thank you though” you politely declined. He put it back in the carton and put out the one he was smoking on the brick of the house behind you and sat next to you.

”I'm sorry you had to see that,” he said, looking at you. He was picking at his fingernails. “It's not the first time I've watched someone die” you responded.

You turned your head towards him. You saw the weight of his job on his face. He was tragic and beautiful.

”You gotta name?” He asked “y/n”

He repeated your name as if he was testing how it rolled off the tongue. He smiled.

“You don't hate me”

“I'm sorry?” He looked at you with a puzzled expression.

“Everyone here looks at me with the same disgust on their face, but you don't”

He took a second to think. “You don't seem like an enemy to me. You, looked at Jackson the same way you would look at anyone else who was dying”

Now it was your turn to smile. You didn't have friends in your unit, they trusted you sure, but no one took the time to get to know you, be your friend.

"You wanna come inside?” Roe asked as he picked himself up.

You nodded and took his hand to get help up to your feet. Eugene took you to a house a few blocks down where he was staying. There were a few bunks. You took the top. He was below you.

You would be lying if you said that that night wasn't one of the most restful nights you've had in months.

The following day, you were helping Roe with his rounds, checking up on his friends. Not just physically but making sure, especially after the previous night, that they were okay. It warmed your heart, to see how close-knit everyone was.

During this time, you two talked about everything and nothing all at once. His life back in Louisiana. His siblings, his hobbies, and why he became a medic. He asked about you, too. He seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. It was a welcomed change of pace. God, if your crush couldn't get any bigger.

You could tell the others didn't trust you; a few gave you an especially dirty look. You couldn't blame them; you were the people they were paid to kill.

One redhead, tall, kept eyeing you and Eugene. His expression wasn't disdain, but it wasn't glee either. It was more of a curious look.

You were checking out one of the few Americans who would let you near them with a small head injury when you saw said redhead ask Roe to talk.

You continued with what you were doing trying not to get your thoughts the best of you.

Gene came back with a smirk on his face that you could swear met his eyes at one point. You finished up what you were doing and packed up your stuff as Roe approached you.

Standing up you looked at Roe with a quizzical look apon your face. “What's that smile all about?”

“Winters, he Uh asked if you wanted to stick around, be an official easy company medic”

You smiled a smile that hadn't been on your face for a while. “It would be my honor”

[indigo-graves]

Tag yours below if you have more than one or don’t see one of yours mentioned here.

EDIT: I swear Liebgott was on here. Pls tag him or comment. He’s one of my faves and tbh I’m gonna write him anyway. Haha.

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 3: The Twins

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when Easy Company finally starts getting settled in 2023?

Words: 3,440

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

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

Author's Note: (Link to picrew in collage) Hey everyone!! I just wanted to say that part of this chapter mentions irl Easy Company and I wanted to emphasize that this work means absolutely NO disrespect to the real veterans - this work of fiction is based solely on the characters in the TV Series 💖

“Well, how do y’all like 2023 so far?” Zay asked over her shoulder, the three arriving at a pair of elevators.

“It’s certainly… something,” Joe replied hesitantly, causing Zay to let out a quiet giggle. The trio made their way back to the emergency room, Zay leading them back to the beds. The nurse stopped at another desk similar to the one Liebgott and Speirs saw before, asking which bed Malarkey was in. After the short conversation, Zay led Liebgott and Speirs through the maze of hospital beds and patients before finally arriving at the rest of Easy Company. They saw Malarkey laying in his bed, the top half of the bed raised so the soldier was sitting up. The rest of the boys were spread around his bed, some in chairs, others standing and leaning against the wall. Zay could barely contain her shock and excitement - ten people from the show that she has seen way too many times, honestly she could probably quote each episode word for word, were right before her. Surveying the men, Zay smiled and put her hands on her hips.

“So this is Easy Company,” she mused before all of the boys who were sitting compulsively shot to their feet, quickly reminding Zay of the strict etiquette rules of their time. She let out a laugh before she said, “Oh sit please! No need to stand on ceremony!” What Zay did not know was that the men were utterly enamoured - they did not know what to make of the nurse. She was unlike anyone any of them had ever met; she was bright, bubbly, outgoing, but exuded an air of openness and authenticity, something that made the boys feel safe and at home, even in such an alien place. One by one, the boys who were sitting slowly sat back down.

Suddenly snapping back into his leadership role, Dick stepped forward and outstretched his hand. “Ma’am, I’m Richard Winters, thank you for meeting with us,” he said politely, trying desperately to hide his nerves. Dick felt something he had never felt before - simultaneously, he felt safe and comfortable, but incredibly nervous, as if he was going to say something wrong. Zay smiled and shook Dick’s hand with a gentle but decisive grip - he could have sworn there was a spark.

“Azalea Bennett! You can call me Zay though,” she introduced herself to the captain. “And I think I know everyone here…” Zay took a survey around the small area sectioned off by rolling curtain dividers. “Looks like we have Lewis Nixon, George Luz, Bill Guarnere, Joe Toye, Bull Randleman, Doc Roe, an injured Don Malarkey,” she pointed to each man as she named him before turning to look beside her. “Joe Liebgott, Ron Speirs,” Zay finally turned to the quiet leader before her, “and captain Dick Winters.” There were mixed reactions from the boys. Most of the company were impressed and amused by the nurse’s memory, while Guarnere and Toye kept their guard up.

“How the fuck do you know our names?” Guarnere asked defensively.

“Don’t swear around the lady Gonorrhea!” Toye scolded as he smacked the man’s arm.

Zay let out another laugh before Guarnere could retaliate at his friend. “Okay, first, I don’t give a fuck if you swear around me,” Zay commented. The twenty eyebrows in the room shot to the ceiling when they heard the lady swear so casually - maybe they might like 2023. “And to answer your question… I’m not really sure how to tell y’all this,” she buried her hands in her shirt pockets, looking at the ground. “So… um…” Zay tried to find her words, the eight soldiers waiting anxiously. “There’s this TV show, called Band of Brothers, that follows the soldiers of Easy Company and all of their missions and challenges as they fight the Germans in Europe.” Zay meekly looked up to survey the boys, trying to gauge their reactions. Some looked at her with their jaws on the floor, unable to believe her words. Others were staring into space, attempting to process the revelation. Speirs and Liebgott were surveying the reactions with Zay, while Malarkey spoke up.

“So, here, we’re all just characters in a TV show?” There was a certain quality to Don’s voice - it almost sounded like disappointment. Back home, or at least in Europe, they were fighting the war to end all wars. Here, they were just some characters on television.

“Well, not exactly,” Zay explained, “your characters are all based on real people that really fought in Europe, y’all are portraying them in the show, telling their stories.”

“So if we looked for them, we could find people with our names?” George asked from beside the hospital bed.

“Well… you’d have to look in cemeteries,” Zay replied solemnly, “the war was eighty years ago, I don’t think anyone from Easy Company is still alive.” Heads nodded in understanding to Zay’s statement. “Do y’all know how you got here? Or how to get back?” Zay asked the men, scanning their faces with her ultramarine eyes. Her eyes may have been framed by her glasses, but they never obscured the authenticity that shone from her expressions.

“Hate to say it, but no, we have no idea how any of this happened,” Nixon spoke up from his spot leaning on the wall.

“So what exactly happened?” Zay replied, stepping a bit closer to the group. The men looked around at each other… who was going to tell her what happened? Would she believe them? Would this be the breaking point?

Eugene spoke up after a beat of silence, “Well, we were in Bastogne, and we started taking hits, so of course I dove into a foxhole. Except, I never hit the bottom…” the medic looked down at his hands, as if this was painful to remember. “It was probably only a few seconds, but honestly, it felt like I was falling for ages, and everything was pitch black,” he mumbled the last part under his breath, “it was terrifying.” Roe took a deep breath and shook his head, shaking away the painful memories. “Next thing I knew, I was landing on the concrete, and all these boys were falling from the sky.” Roe pointed around the room with a small smile on his face, earning a sparse chuckle from the room.

“I saw him fall in and not come out, so I jumped in to try and see what happened, then the same thing happened to me,” Liebgott spoke up from behind Zay. “Then that one landed on top of me,” he pointed at Bull with a smirk. “Don’t know how I didn’t bite it.” The group laughed as Bull shot Joe a wink.

“You’re welcome,” Randleman replied with a laugh.

“Toye and I went in after Bull,” Guarnere chimed in, “then I think Lieutenant Speirs tumbled in after us.” He looked over to Ron, who has been leaning on the wall next to Nixon.

“Yeah, a blast threw me backwards into the foxhole,” the officer explained.

“When I saw him go in I wanted to make sure he was okay, so of course I followed,” Nixon added.

“Of course I couldn’t let him go alone,” Winters interjected with a laugh, giving heart eyes to his best friend.

“When I saw the captain go in, the bombardments finally stopped, so Luz and I ran over to make sure he was okay, but of course that didn’t go as planned,” Malarkey shot a playful glare to Luz, who was sitting on the floor near the foot of his bed.

“I said I was sorry!” Luz held up his hands in surrender. The group let out another laugh - everyone could tell that they were starting to relax in the unfamiliar environment.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how we could get back to our own… time, do you?” Dick asked the nurse, looking at her with shyer eyes than he had intended.

“I have no idea, but I’d be happy to help you figure it out!” she said with a smile, the brightest smile any of the men had seen. “Do y’all have a place to stay?”

“Can’t say that we do,” Winters answered, glancing back at Nixon - the officer nodded his head, affirming Winters’ statement.

“If y’all want, you’re more than welcome to stay with me and my sister,” Zay offered bashfully, her eyes going to the floor. “My sister watches the show, so she’d know you guys too.” Everyone looked to captain Winters to see what his decision was. No one would admit it, but each of the men were hoping that their CO would agree to stay with the blue-haired girl.

Dick took a moment to think it over before he replied, “I’m not really sure if we have any other option.” He smiled and nodded his head at Zay, a silent acceptance of her offer for a roof over their heads and a safe place to sleep.

“Great! My sister’s actually on her way, I’ll talk to the doctor and see if we can get Malarkey discharged,” Zay replied happily, a bounce appearing in her step as she walked off to the desk in the middle of the room.

“I think I might like 2023,” Luz spoke up with a smirk.

“Hey! I saw her first!” Liebgott spoke up indignantly, sending a glare to Luz.

“Men, she is our host here and you will treat her with respect,” Winters scolded his men in a firm tone. Nixon and Speirs could not help but let out a scoff at Dick’s words, both of the officers quickly going to cover their mouths. “What?” Winters prodded, becoming slightly defensive at their antics.

“Dick, we all saw how you looked at her earlier,” Nixon responded in earnest. Before the captain could reply, their modern-times hostess returned to the group.

“Y’all are all set to go! My shift ends in a few minutes, so as soon as my sister gets here we’ll head out,” she explained happily, bubbly energy exuding from her.

“Thank you for helping us,” Eugene spoke up, a humble and thankful expression on his face, “I know you kind of know us, so to speak, but still, to take ten strangers into your home is one of the biggest acts of kindness I’ve seen.” Zay blushed a bright red and turned her gaze to the floor, unable to hide the smile spreading across her face.

“It’s nothing, really,” she replied shyly, “but that means a lot to hear from you.” Zay met Roe’s gaze for a moment before going back to the floor, her blush nearly matching her hair in regards to the saturation of the color. Before anyone could chastise Roe for his (what Roe would call unintentional) flirtations, everyone heard an odd sound come from Zay’s pocket. Only Zay knew that the sound was her cell phone’s ringtone, Somebody to Love by Queen, but all Easy Company heard was an unfamiliar song and the voice of an angel. The nurse pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it up to her ear. “Hey! Are you here?... Great! I’ll meet you by my car! See you in a sec!” Zay tapped the lit-up rectangle before putting it back in her pocket. “My sister Chrys just got here! Stay here, I’ll get my things and then we can head out.” She turned on her heel, her signature bounce appearing in her step. Liebgott waited for the nurse to be out of earshot before turning to the medic seated next to Malarkey.

“TaKiNg StRaNgErS iNtO yOuR hOmE-” Before Liebgott could finish his mockery of Roe, the medic spoke up to defend himself.

“Hey! I’m just trying to be nice!” Eugene rebutted, voice laced with his trademark Cajun accent. Liebgott, Luz, and Roe began to bicker over flirting with Zay, Guarnere and Toye leaning back and watching the show with amusement. Bull looked on at the three arguing as well, waiting to see how things would turn out. Before things got too out of hand, Zay returned, a multicolored backpack slung across her shoulder.

“Alright! Malarkey is free to go! Ready boys?” She asked, clearly trying to contain her excitement. All ten boys felt their hearts warm at the sight. Roe helped Malarkey out of the bed, the redhead starting to stand on his own. Zay led the men to the elevator, the eleven of them packing in like sardines. Zay wound up squished between the corner, Winters, and Luz. She pushed a button on the side with the label “Garage” beside it before she smiled shyly at the men, backing up against the wall as much as she could. Luz and Winters tried to give the girl as much space as they could, but of course, said space was quite limited. While Winters kept his gaze firmly affixed on his feet, as if he would lose them if he looked away, George snuck a glance at Zay, returning her shy smile as he noticed the blush on her cheeks. As soon as her eyes met his, Zay immediately shifted her gaze to the floor, now staring at her shoes just as intently as Winters. Luz had to bite his lip to keep his smile from growing wider. All too quickly the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal the gray concrete of the hospital's parking garage. The boys filed out quickly, waiting for Zay to lead them to her car.

To anyone else, the group would look like little lost ducklings following their colorful mother duck. A mixture of emotions swam around the group - some were relieved that they found someone who not only knew this time period, but also knew them and liked them. Others were still coming to terms that something as fantastical as time travel happened to the company. How were they going to explain this to the rest of Easy? Or to Colonel Sink? Others in the group continued to be wary of Zay, especially Speirs and Guarnere. While they were greateful for the help, how did they know they could trust her? As for Zay, a mixture of emotions coursed through her body - excitement that she was about to spend time with the people who lived in her head rent-free, joy that she could help people who were need, and a hint of doubt that this was all actually happening… if she told anyone about this, would they believe her?

Zay led the group before everyone noticed the lights illuminate on a yellow car with a soft roof. The car had an emblem with a running horse on the back of it, something that only Zay recognized as a Ford Mustang. As if on cue, a bronze, sleek sports car came around the corner and stopped near the men. Zay put her backpack in her car's trunk before greeting the driver stepping out of the newly arrived Nissan Z-Car. The driver was a woman with short, curly black hair, the bangs and tips dyed bright firetruck red. Her look was punctuated by a pair of minimalist snake-bite piercings beneath her lower lip. The girl was wearing a set of auto-mechanic’s coveralls in classic navy blue, the name “Chrys” embroidered in cursive on the front. Zay engulfed the newcomer in a hug, earning the nurse a mild scolding.

“Zay! You’re gonna make me fall!” the girl laughed before loosely returning Zay’s ambush hug. Zay simply giggled and pulled away enough to talk to the girl, Zay’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder.

“Sorry Chrys! I just got excited,” Zay replied, turning her head to look at the group around her car. “Boys, this is my twin sister Chrys! She was kind enough to take the rest of the evening off work to help y’all get settled,” she announced, looking at Chrys with a proud smile. Chrys offered an awkward wave and a “hello” to the rest of group, not expecting the introduction. The boys replied in greeting before Liebgott spoke up.

“Shit! Captain Winters, we need to get our weapons from up front,” he reported urgently. Zay gave the group a confused look before Joe explained further, “We weren’t allowed to bring our weapons into the hospital, so we stashed them in the bushes up front, we put our helmets there too so we wouldn’t have to carry them.”

Zay nodded in understanding before turning to Chrys, “Do you wanna take half in your car and half in mine, then one of us can put their weapons in the trunk?”

Chrys nodded, turning to the group in front of her. “Alright guys, we gotta split up into two groups for the cars, who wants to go with who?”

“I’ll go with Zay!” Luz volunteered, all too eagerly.

“Me too!” followed Liebgott, glaring at Luz.

Nixon chuckled and shook his head at their antics. “I can go with Chrys,” he offered, meeting her eyes for the first time. Just like that, he knew he needed to know her.

“Me too,” Speirs chimed in. He refused to be in the same car as a bickering Luz and Liebgott.

“Can I just have a front seat, whoever I ride with?” Bull asked around his Emotional Support Cigar.

“Yeah sure, I think my front is roomier,” Chrys replied, Zay nodding along.

“Malarkey, do you and Doc Roe wanna come with me, so that you have medical support just in case anything happens?” The two men nodded in response to her question. Winters simply folded his arms, trying to mask his disappointment with focus. “And then captain Winters can take the last seat in my car, so that we have the officers spread out?” Dick’s eyes lit up at Zay’s offer, trying his best to just act casual.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” he rambled out. “That leaves Guarnere and Toye with Chrys, right?”

“Yeah, I’m good with that,” Guarnere responded. He looked at Toye for his response, who nodded along.

“So it’s Nixon, Speirs, Bull, Guarnere, and Toye with Chrys, and Winters, Roe, Malarkey, Liebgott, and Luz with me, right?” Zay said, confirming the riding arrangements.

“Sounds about right,” Chrys agreed. “Now, just so y’all know, we each only have four seats technically, so someone is going to have to lay across three of y’all in the back.” Some of the men’s eyes grew wide, while others laughed at the notion.

“Enjoy figuring that out, boys,” Bull mused while walking to Chrys’ car. After a few more minutes of discussion and bickering, moderated by Winters, the seating arrangements were agreed upon. In Zay’s car, Malarkey would ride in the front, with Winters, Liebgott, and Roe in the back, Luz laying on top of them. In Chrys’ car, Bull would be in the front, with Nixon, Speirs, and Guarnere sitting in the back, and Joe Toye laying across them. Everyone shifted into their assigned seats/positions, some more willingly than others.

“Someone’s gonna fucking die…” Toye muttered under his breath as he laid across the three men, anger exuding from every pore in his face. Speirs and Nixon were able to keep a straight face, albeit with substantial effort, while Bull simply turned his face away and focused on his ESC. Guarnere, however, could not help the giggles that befell him. The harder he tried to suppress them, the more intense they became. Toye made a mental note to get Gonorrhea back for this…

Meanwhile, in the yellow mustang, Luz was getting situated on his human couch, inadvertently sticking his ass right into Liebgott’s face. “Hey! Watch where you’re sticking that thing!” Joe yelled as he tried to evade touching George’s ass with his face.

“Yeah! That’s a dangerous weapon!” Malarkey called out from his seat up front. Everyone in the car erupted into laughter, save for Luz who shot Don a playful glare.

“I said I was sorry like a million times!” the radioman yelled, sounding very much like a little kid. Once both sisters knew everyone was situated, they drove out of the parking garage. Stopping briefly to place their once-hidden belongings in Chrys’ trunk, the two cars made their way to the twins’ apartment complex. Something that blew the boys’ minds while en route was how the girls played their music during the drive. At first, the men assumed they just had a radio in their cars, which they thought was neat already. However, when Chrys and Zay explained to their respective soldiers how “the cloud” and Spotify work, their minds were utterly blown. This was all the twelve kids talked about as they made their way home.

~~~~~

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

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

As always thank you so much for reading!! Chapter 4 will drop next week 😁💕

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Out of the Woods

So finally here is the fic to accompany the Liebgott Taylor Swift moodboard (as seen below) Pairings: Joseph Liebgott x reader. Warnings: swearing, gore (reader is a nurse), war themes

Normandy 1944

Joseph Liebgott had never been the easiest man to get along with, he was stubborn and opinionated and was built like a ticking time bomb, the slightest thing could set him off and that was the mistake Y/n made when she first bumped into him.

“Hey, watch where ya going ya shit head!” Y/n stumbled forward, her threadbare boots scuffing in the mud as she dropped the wooden crate of medical supplies, cursing as the valuable, clean bandages unravelled into the sludgy puddle. The path outside the aid station was a thick mire and often reminded Y/n of the way her father had reminisced about the trenches of the Great War.

“ I should watch where I’m going?” Y/n spat, narrowing her eyes at the paratrooper, “You’re the one who just cost first battalion half of their medical supplies.” Throwing the salvageable bandages back into the box in anguish, the crumpled lumps of clay-coloured cloth were no good now. Y/n wasn’t sure how she was going to break the news to Eugene; the medic wasn’t known for his anger but knowing their situation this would surely push him over the edge.

The paratrooper spun around to face her, his skin pale and dark eyes encircled by purple, “oh so first battalion got their own personal nurse now? No wonder those fuckers are so cheerful,” he sneered, oblivious of the accident he had inflicted and not bother to offer any kind of assistance as Y/n fumbled anxiously for the supplies.

“No, I’m distributing supplies to all the medics in each battalion of Dog, Easy and Fox company actually, but maybe when I find out which battalion you’re from I’ll conveniently skip them,” she snapped back, thrusting the waterlogged box aggressively under her arm, no longer concerned by the trail of sludge leaking down her white apron.

“Good day, Corporal.”

Holland 1944

The second time they met was no better. Joe had been injured on a patrol and his neck was bleeding profusely through the rudimentary bandage wrapped poorly in a limp scarf.

“Liebgott just let me look at it God dammit,” Y/n reached over, her nimble fingers trying desperately to remove the bandage from his neck but he flinched away. Her fingers barely brushed against the dressing as he shot up from his seat in a receptive, crumbling leather chair situated in the corner of the temporary aid station, having once been someone’s home that now lay abandoned and derelict.

“No, get off me. I don’t need your help. Where’s Doc Roe?” Liebgott snapped, and Y/n sighed elaborately; she was in no mood for this kind of attitude. There were eleven other men in the aid station who would all greatly appreciate being attended too.

“Doc Roe is dealing with other casualties. You got me or nothing.”

Liebgott snorted, “Guess I’ll just bleed to death then.”

Y/n protested but Liebgott had already shouldered his M1 and was making his way towards the entrance.

“Why won’t you just let me look at it?” Y/n hollered, a little louder than she had intended and alerted the other paratroopers.

Joe spun on his heels, his mouth-eaten jump boots, scraping the rough, wooden floorboards.

“I don’t want some woman half-assing a dressing because she wants to be part of the war effort. This is no place for a woman, it is a man's war,” he vituperated her, taking no notice of the stares he was receiving from his friends. “I don’t want your help,” his word was final and his boots were heavy as he departed leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

“I don’t know what his problem is with me, Gene,” Y/n sighed, as she finished unpacking the fresh medical supplies from one of the many crates from their much-needed supply drop. Her muscles griped, but soon relaxed as she finally took a seat on one of the crates; Y/n had been on her feet all day. “I don’t know why he hates me.”

Eugene's dark eyes followed her movements, sending a sympathetic smile her way as he dropped down beside her on the crates, “Liebgott is a hard man to read, ma Chérie.”

Y/n simpered, the right corner of her lips turning upwards at the nickname. Eugene, with his dark hair and kind eyes, had always been a striking character and the two were of one mind. His friendly but subdued nature seemed to draw people to him, making him a favourite within the company, including with Y/n who despite what other men in the Company thought was always a welcome hand by Eugene’s side,

“I just don’t understand why he hates me.”

“I don’t hate you,” the gruff voice caused the pair to turn; Y/n felt as though she may have whiplash from the speed at which she spun around, concerned by how much he could have heard from their conversation and worried that he would now think she was pathetic, lamenting about trivial problems. Joe, standing in the doorway leaning against his M1, seemed to have not heard the conversation or if he had he never made a comment. Instead, his dark eyes made their way towards Eugene, bloody bandages still pressed against the wound on his neck.

“Are you free to look at my neck now, Doc?” He asked, ignorant of Y/n presence - why should this be any different to any of their previous interactions? He stared blankly at Eugene.

“Sure, Liebgott,” Eugene stood up and moved over to his fellow paratrooper. “Take ya self a seat, I’ll grab ma things.”

Eugene disappeared, his heavy footfalls seemed to echo his departure and was the only sign Y/n needed.

“I’m going to head out, Gene. I’m shattered,” her hands fumbling into her musette bag, hastily stuffing the extra box of syrettes Eugene had given her into the inner pocket. Joe’s eyes seemed to dance after her, an unwanted shadow documenting her every movement. They followed her out of the door and even as her boots squelched unpleasantly down the track, her legs carrying her rapidly away from the watchful eyes. She couldn’t find it in her to turn around, to face him, too afraid of the glare he always sent her way.

Bastogne 1944

The Luftwaffe started dropping bombs around midnight. Y/n with blood encrusted under her short nails, had just finished her rounds, checking on all the wounded soldiers she had patched up during the day. The distinct whistling from above was her first clue that they weren’t going to have a quiet night. Like a deathly siren announcing the beginning of the end. Reneé appeared beside her, anxiety etched on her delicate features.

“We are in for a long night, Y/n. Grab what supplies you can.”

Y/n nodded, hurrying towards the store room when the first bomb whistled down on the church, shaking it from the rafters, dust falling in great clouds from the ceiling.

“Y/n, come quickly. We have to evacuate everyone.”

Along with the other nurses, Y/n helped Reneé evacuate the walking wounded first, sending injured soldiers into the snowy streets of Bastogne. Next came the more severely injured, hauled out on stretchers between two nurses.

“Y/n, stay out here with the wounded, check their wounds. We have to make sure no one has torn any stitches trying to escape. I’m going to try and get some more out,” Reneé called, hurrying back into the crumbling church with several other nurses hot on her heels.

Great flames billowed from the surrounding buildings, the night was ablaze with fire and smoke, and the earth shook with each eruption. Soldiers had started firing the Ack Ack guns at the aircraft above. The noise was deafening, a constant pounding over the top of the whistling bombs and explosions. Y/n could feel her heart pounding, a constant thumping in her ear reminding her that she was miraculously still alive.

The church was struck again and Y/n had to fight the urge to follow her friends into danger, but the wounded soldiers needed her. Lights flashed up behind her, illuminating the terrified nurse and her patients. She turned to see a jeep approaching, a wounded man strapped to the front wailing in agony, thrashing against his restraints. The jeep swerved to a halt and a figure came running towards her.

“EUGENE!” She cried out running to embrace her friend.

“Ma Chérie, are you alright?” Eugene hugged her tightly to his chest. Y/n couldn’t help the tears that began to fall, the growing emotions of the evening finally spilling from within her.

“Gene, Reneé went back inside,” Y/n sobbed, just as the third shell hit the church. They both watched in horror as the front of the church caved in, stone crumbling down into the street and blocking the entrance.

“NOOOO!” Y/n cried, thrashing against Eugene’s arms but he wouldn’t let go.

“No Y/n, please. There is nothing we can do. I can’t lose you too,” he admitted, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as they shared in their grief.

Joe sat shivering in his foxhole, the cold seeping into his bones in a way that the winter in San Francisco never could have.

“Hey Joe,” George called out, plonking himself down beside him. “How ya doing?” George shoved his scuffed leather boot against Joe’s clothed leg, prodding him like an impatient child.

Joe turned to him, “How the fuck do you think I’m doing, George? I’m freezing my fucking ass off in the middle of the woods for a CO who can’t even make a decision.”

“Alright, jeez. Sorry for asking,” George raised his hands in surrender. “We just got news from Bastogne.” George began, trying to gauge Joe’s reaction. “It was hit by the Luftwaffe. The aid station… it’s gone.”

“Oh fucking brilliant. Now if we get hit we ain’t got no aid station either.”

George swallowed quickly, “Y/n was in Bastogne.”

Any words Joe had thought of died in the back of his throat. His face went as white as the snow on the ground and he could feel the sweat growing on his palms, his stomach plummeting into his jump boots.

“Is she…?”

“I don’t know, Joe. Doc’s not back yet but I wanted to prepare you in case.”

“In case of what?” Joe snapped, standing from his foxhole and slinging his M1 over his shoulder in anguish. “And why should I care anyway? It’s not like I like her or anything.”

“Fucking hell,” George whispered under his breath. “Joe, when are you gonna grow some balls and admit you’re in love with her. Everyone can see it, including Webster and he’s oblivious to most things.”

It was true George had to spell it out to him back in Holland before he got hit.

“Webster sent a letter to Hoobler the other week asking if you’d finally told Y/n.”

Joe sighed, running his hand over his face, deep in thought.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Hell yes. I bet even the Krauts on the other side of the clearing can see it.”

Joe nodded slowly, “okay. As soon as I find her I’m gonna tell her.”

George nodded, watching as his friend hurried away to check if Eugene had returned.

“Let’s just hope he’s not too late.”

Y/n groaned as she straightened her back, stretching after what seemed like hours of bending over to apply dressings, carrying wounded men to transport vehicles, and digging through the rubble to collect supplies. Her friend's bodies had been retrieved from the church and lay in a neat row under rough, army-issued blankets. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to look at them, couldn’t bring herself to accept their fate.

She had seen members of Easy Company coming and going. A few had been sent by Captain Winters to help, bringing with them more wounded paratroopers from the front line. Y/n was too preoccupied to notice the familiar figure approaching her, she didn’t notice until he grabbed her arm firmly and spun her around to face him.

“Liebgott!” She gasped, raising her hand to smack him. “What the hell is your problem? You scared me half to death.”

Joe looked a mixture of shocked and confused until his cheeks grew a bright red.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He seemed genuinely sorry but Y/n was too consumed by her emotions to think rationally.

“Well you did a darn good job of that didn’t you,” she snapped. “You know if you’re just here to be mean or make some rude comment then you can forget it. I’m not in the mood today. I just lost my friends.” Y/n knew she should not have snapped, it wasn’t Joe’s fault but all the emotions were bubbling up inside her and if she felt anymore pain her heart would burst.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Joe began, he reached forward to take Y/n hand in his own. It was warm, comforting and almost felt familiar, as if he had been holding her hand all their lives. She let him but watched in confusion by this unusual act.

“I’m so sorry about your friends, Y/n. I know this must be difficult for you. I’m here because… well when George told me the aid station had been hit I couldn’t think of anything else than making sure you were okay. Y/n I realised something and…”

“Joe, let me stop you right there. Why would you care if I was okay or not? Joe you hate me… and… and I’ve never understood why?” Y/n sobbed, bringing her hand to cover her mouth, muffling her whimpers into her bloody sleeve. “Why do you hate me, Joe? What did I do wrong?”

Joe’s heart shattered at the sight of the broken woman in front of him. Her shoulders shook violently and tears flowed freely down her dirty cheeks, smudge with ash and mud. She looked frail, weak even and Joe hated that he’d caused it.

“Y/n, I never hated you. Why would you think that?” Joe moved towards her, collecting her hands in his own larger ones once more and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “Talk to me, Y/n. Please.”

“Well you always shout at me and… and you wouldn’t l-let me treat your wound and y-you avoid me all the time,” she stammered, looking up at him through tear-filled lashes.

“Oh Sweetheart,” Joe pulled her against his chest, his breath felt warm and tingly against her neck. Y/n had never noticed that he was only slightly taller than her and her head fitted perfectly in the crook of his neck. Her hands wrapped into tight fists against his jacket and she could feel his heart hammering against her hands. “I don’t want you to ever feel like that again.”

“Joe…”

“Shh Mein Liebling, it’s all going to be alright now.”

Austria 1945

Y/n had never dreamed that she would get to visit Austria. It seemed as if it was a world away from the likes of Bastogne and the horrors of war. Its tranquil, turquoise lakes and steep mountains with their snow-covered peaks seemed the pinnacle of the landscape. Work had become scarce too, other than the occasional scrape or sprain it had mainly become stock control and arranging supplies to be sent to the Pacific where the fighting had yet to cease. Y/n knew that both herself or Joe could be sent to the Pacific at any time it was inevitable, and neither of them was going to get through the war unscathed.

For now, they were at peace and in the comforts of her room, under clean sheets with her legs tangled in Joe’s and her head resting on his chest, Y/n couldn’t help but feel at peace. The steady thrumming of his heart and the gentle rise and fall of his chest coaxed her too and from sleep in waves. She didn’t want to move, afraid that she would disturb her sleeping paratrooper but at the same time her legs had gone numb hours ago and she could feel the pins and needles begin to prickle their way up her legs.

“Joe?” She whispered, reasoning her hand cautiously to brush a stray brunette lock out of his eyes. Joe’s nose wrinkled and he screwed his eyes shut tighter with a sigh. Y/n smiled as she watched him stir from his slumber. It was one of life’s greatest pleasures to see Joe so relaxed, so at peace even if for just a while.

Joe moaned, his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks before they opened revealing his chestnut orbs.

“Good morning Mein Liebling,” his voice was gruff and sleepy but the smile on his face said that he was more than conscious enough to show his love.

Y/n smiled back at him, “Good morning handsome. How did you sleep?”

“It’s the best night's sleep I’ve had in a while, although I don’t recall much bc sleeping happening.” Joe grinned and Y/n's cheeks grew bright red at the thought of last night’s activity. Glancing around the room there was evidence everywhere. Clothes strewn across the floor, the mirror hung lopsided on the wall, the desk was cleared of any objects and the paper that had once occupied it lay across the carpet.

“I have to admit it’s the most enjoyable night I’ve had in a long time,” Joe admitted, tangling a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Me too,” Y/n admitted and Joe smiled once again.

“What does it mean? Mein Liebling?” Y/n asked, running her fingernails slowly over his exposed chest.

Joe laughed, “my darling. It’s been your nickname for a long time.” He admitted his cheeks rosy and his smile nervous.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been calling you that for far longer than you’ve realised. I just didn’t want anyone to realise I was talking about you. Figured the other guys would give me hell about it.” Releasing the lock he’d wrapped around his finger, he sat propped up by his elbows so he could face her.

“Y/n, I need to ask you something and it’d be real nice if your answer was yes.”

Y/n sat up now too, her expression a mixture of anxiety and confusion but the soft smile on her lips encouraged him to continue.

“Y/n will you come home with me, back to Chicago I mean? I can get my old job back at the cab company and we can buy a big house…” he paused a grin spreading across his lips. “A big house with lots of rooms, for all the little Liebgotts we’re gonna be making.”

Y/n laughed, smacking Joe’s arm.

“You’re lucky you’re good looking Liebgott.”

“Am I taking that as a yes?”

“Yes, you can.”

Joe grinned at her, his cheeky little smile followed by a little laugh causing Y/n’s heart to swell beyond what she thought was possible. Wrapped in Joe’s arms in their little room in Austria Y/n realised that maybe they were finally out of the woods.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @desert-fern @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @merriell-allesandro-shelton @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @mutantmanifesto @malarkgirlypop

[kafka-ohdear]

another thing that i love about skinny sisk is that he's always there when someone needs.

in "currahee", when liebgott was just approaching guarnere, he has already stood up because he knew damn well what was going to happen.

in "crossroad", he was the one helped webster to get up and fix his helmet.

in "the last patrol", when jackson was wounded and eugene needed a light to check him, skinny was the one who lightened his light to help doc roe.

in "points", he was the one who shot the camp commandant because liebgott's gun jammed and webster refused to shoot. and then he explained liebgott's viewpoint to webster so he could understand him better.

well what can i say, get yourself a man who doesn't know how to swim but will always be there for you.

[softguarnere]

Hello 😭 I really love your bofb fanfics and headcanons!! They are really awesome ✨ Also, I wonder if you could write a headcanon with Speirs, Luz, Liebgott, Roe, Welsh and Babe about the male reader being hurted during the battle and how they would react to that 😭😭? If yes, then thank you so, so much <33

Hi Anon! Thank you so much, I'm so glad that you enjoy them 🤗 I don't think I've ever written anything with Harry before, so I hope his turned out okay

Speirs

As an officer, Speirs would probably make a point of not showing favoritism towards you

But that becomes very difficult when he hears that you were wounded on the patrol

His reaction would probably be similar to how he reacted when Grant was shot

Letting the façade slip ever so slightly, the willingness to show a little more emotion in front of his men because someone he cares about was just hurt

When he gets to you, he definitely stays there the entire time, the medics working under his eagle-eyed watch

He's not trying to intimidate them or anything - he's just stressed out and waiting for the chance to talk to you

"You look mad," you note when you're finally alone.

Immediately, Ron's face softens. "Sorry. I've just been worrying about you."

"I know. You're not nearly so callous as everyone makes you out to be." You smile, teasing, even though you've just been hurt - your ability to find a bright side or the humor in a situation is one of the things that Ron admires and loves most about you. "Be careful though, Sparky. If too many people see you caring about me, it might ruin that heartless reputation of yours."

He can't help but laugh. For you, he would do anything, no matter what it did to his reputation

Luz

After what happened to Muck and Penkala, the thought of anyone he cares about getting hurt makes Luz feel sick to his stomach

And when he hears you're wounded? The color just drains from his face because he fears the worst

Luckily, you're not too hurt

(So then why is adrenaline coursing through his veins like he's preparing to run a marathon?)

When you see him come to the aid station, you flash him a smile. He tries, really, to return it, but it comes out as something closer to a grimace

"You come to cheer me up Luz?"

He's more than happy to see that you're okay, but he can't find it in him to crack any sort of joke to make you feel better

Instead, he presses a quick kiss to your temple. "Don't go scaring me like that again."

Liebgott

Okay it's during Bastogne and Liebgott has just gotten back from being Winters' runner for the day

At first when he realizes that you're not in your foxhole, he thinks that you've gone to make the rounds and visit your friends

Only he can't find you anywhere

Finally, Doc Roe tells him that you caught some shrapnel and were taken into the town

He's never seen Joe's eyes so wide, seen him so speechless, seen him scared, even - no one has

He guides Liebgott back into Bastogne so that he can see you

Joe is calm until he reaches the church and sees you, then he's power walking to the cot you sit on and has you in his arms in a second, holding you tight

"Are you okay?" He asks, and when you tell him that you are, he wants to make sure. "Promise?"

"I am. Are you?"

He squeezes your hand. "I am now."

Roe

As the company's medic, he's the first to arrive when he hears someone yell for help

But he feels like his heart stops beating when he realizes that the person who's hurt is you

For a moment he freezes. Spina is by his side, asking, "Do you want me to take this one?"

Somehow, that spurs Gene into action, helping patch you up as quickly as he can

Prepare to have your own personal doctor for the next few days, because he's constantly checking in with you to make sure that you're okay

"I never doubted that I would recover," you joke after the war is over and everyone is more capable of talking about certain events. You offer Gene a smile and a wink. "I mean, how could I not heal with the world's best medic taking care of me?"

No matter how much time passes, it never fails to make him blush

Welsh

No okay but I feel like he would be a lot more calm than everyone expects?

Like, the other officers don't know what he's going to do when he hears the news, but they feel like Harry is going to run off to find you the moment they tell him

He does leave when he hears that you're hurt, but he handles the whole thing very well

He asks the medics very clear questions about your condition, asks you how you feel, etc.

It's not until after the war that you find out why he was so calm

"I didn't want to scare you," he admits. "Because it felt appropriate that only one of us could freak out, and as the wounded man, it was your right."

Luckily, you both remained calm, managing to avoid scaring each other over the incident

But not a day goes by, even after the war, where Harry doesn't breathe a sigh of relief over the fact that you're okay

Babe

Who can blame him, really, for being worried after he's lost so many of his friends in Bastogne?

Babe would rush to your side the minute that he heard you were wounded - and he would remain there until he was perfectly certain that you're okay

He would be asking Doc Roe a hundred questions, trying to make sure that you're okay

Probably wouldn't let you out of his sight for the rest of the war. I mean, he almost lost someone else that he cares about, and he's not about to let that happen

In Austria, you ask him about it. You love him, but you feel bad that he worries for you so much

When the end of the war is announced, you can't help but smile at him. "Well, Babe, all that determination paid off - I made it to the end."

"Yeah," he would laugh. "All thanks to me."

He means it as a joke, but seeing how much he cared about you really made all the difference. You kiss him on the cheek. "All thanks to you," you agree

Thanks for the request, Anon, and I hope you like these! 💕🕊️