#HBO War | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mamasturn · 2 days

Note

gale meeting eden's parents 🤭 nervous out of his mind

meet the mr & mrs., major gale cleven

pairing: major gale cleven x eden marie. content: in which gale meets the eden’s parents. an: hehehehe, thanks for your patience, doll. tags: @turn-thy-paige @neeville @ineedafictionalman @ihe4rtisa @lovebyceleste

"Don't be nervous," Eden soothed gently. She caressed his broad shoulder in reassurance. She could feel the way his body trembled beneath her touch and what she was once confident in, began to make her weary. He was that nervous to meet her parents?

Contrary to popular belief of the times, Eden was born to educated parents. Her mother was a nurse and her father was a teacher who retired just a few years prior. He spent time tutoring children in mathematics and science, his area of expertise. She had a sister who passed away at a young age, therefore she grew up as the sole child in the home.

Her parents were kind and loving people. She'd hardly seen them angry or act inappropriately, so she struggled to see why her boyfriend would be so nervous to meet them. But, she had to remind herself that she knew them in a way he didn't, and meeting her parents was supposed to be intimidating. He should want to make the best impression possible.

"They'll love you, doll," she reassured, pressing her lips against the corner of his mouth. "Promise."

The journey to her parents' home went by quickly. Soon, they were outside the door of the brick home. As Gale stood at the threshold of Eden's childhood home, his heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. He smoothed down the front of his shirt, adjusted his collar, and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

As the door swung open, revealing Eden's parents, Gale couldn't help but notice the warmth in their smiles. They greeted him with open arms, an action he was not anticipating. Eden's father, a sturdy man with broad shoulders, a thick beard, and dark eyes, extended his hand in a firm handshake, "Major."

Gale shook his head, "Gale, sir. Nice to meet you." Her father's eyebrow quipped in approval. He nodded slowly and Eden's mother stepped in front of her husband, a soft smile on her face.

Eden was a spitting image of her, just deeper in complexion and with her father's eyes. Her mother's embrace was warm as she enveloped him in a gentle hug, expressing her delight at meeting the man who had her daughter head over heels. "Wonderful to meet you, Gale."

Gale reciprocated their gestures, offering a genuine smile and a polite greeting. He was mindful to convey respect and sincerity in his words and actions, knowing how important this moment was to both Eden and her parents, who was smiling joyously at their interaction.

"Gale."

His eyebrows raised at the stern calling of his name by Eden's father, who'd long finished his meal and was patiently waiting on dessert. Gale hummed, "Yes sir?"

"When you plan to marry my daughter," he said gruffly, "come to me first, y'hear?" Gale's face reddened but the shy smile on his face failed to conceal his joy. It seemed that they were on a better foot than he anticipated.

Gale nodded once, "Yes sir."

Throughout the evening, Gale engaged in conversation with Eden's parents, eager to learn more about their family and background. He listened attentively to their stories and anecdotes, finding common ground and shared interests along the way. Eden's father, though no pilot, had an interest in the mechanics of planes, and Eden's mother enjoyed gardening just as his mother did as a child. Small similarities that were bound to bring about a strong connection between them.

Despite his initial nerves, he found himself feeling increasingly comfortable in their presence, swaddled by their warmth and hospitality.

As the evening drew to a close, Eden's parents expressed their approval of Gale, Eden's mother squeezing him tight and pressing a kiss against his temple. The love of a mother seemed to heal wounds he thought were long closed.

Her father gave him a hefty pat of approval and a stern look, a sign to remember his comment from earlier in the dinner.

"Wasn't so bad now, was it?" Eden teased as he prepared to take her to her apartment. Gale smiled softly and shook his head, "Not at all." The seas of anxiety had been replaced by waves of relief and gratitude. All he wanted was for the parents of the woman he loved to love him too and it seemed to be working in his favor.

Walking away from the evening, he knew that this was just the beginning of their lives together as a couple, and he was eager to continue fostering strong bonds with both Eden and her parents. And it was a journey he couldn't wait to embark on. Together.

#black authors #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler #writers and authors #black!reader #major gale cleven x black!reader #major gale cleven x reader #gale cleven x black!reader #major gale cleven x eden marie cleven #gale cleven #masters of the air #mota #mota fic #mota fanfic #hbo war #buck cleven #buck cleven x reader #buck cleven x black reader

58 notes · View notes

basilone · 2 days

Text

HBO WWII REWATCH - WEEK ONE: ORANGE aka the opening titles for The Pacific

#the pacific #thepacificedit #hbo war #hbowaredit #hboww2rewatch #basilcreations #I love the opening titles so much #and with this prompt? I had to amplify all the colors and switch to orange

83 notes · View notes

kafka-ohdear · 3 days

Text

sometimes people say "ilysm" and it could mean "i love you skip muck" so you gotta be careful.

#band of brothers #help #skip muck #call him skip too much i forgot his real name #hbo war

58 notes · View notes

warcorrespondence · 2 days

Text

#band of brothers #hbo war #winnix #webgott #baberoe #speirton #OP Screwby personally apologizes for not including Luztoye because she is a dumbass!

46 notes · View notes

pookielious · 2 days

Text

Historians will say that gene is still looking for scissors and leibgott is still yearning for a Hershey bar

#band of brothers #shitpost #101st airborne #easy company #joseph liebgott #joe liebgott #doc roe #gene roe #eugene roe #hbo war

40 notes · View notes

ginabaker1666 · 16 hours

Text

You Go To My Head

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part One

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

She's an American Red Cross Clubmobile girl, and he's the Flyboy with the Lucky Strike tucked behind his ear. Fate has a funny way of intervening- and Fate's name just happens to be Curt Biddick.

Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist

When Captain Everett Blakely landed Just-A-Snappin on the Thorpe Abbotts airfield, he knew two things. The first, was that it had been a fucking haul from Greenland. All he wanted was a drink, and to collapse into whatever the base was passing off as a bed. The second, was that the pretty brunette with the striking green eyes offering him a choice of coffee or whiskey upon entry to the Interrogation Hut, was someone he wanted to know.

Valencia DiRosano. Val, for short, was a Red Cross Clubmobile girl who also moonlighted as a secretary for Chick Harding when he needed someone to take notes or type up his reports with a little extra speed. She was kind, but a real New Yorker with the mouth to back it up; so it came as no surprise to him when he found her laughing at the bar with Curt Biddick. Childhood friends, he had come to learn on the morning of their first mission. He had watched, amused, as Biddick jumped into the Clubmobile and attempted to fix his own coffee, but not before Val gave him a hearty shove out the back door and onto solid ground.

“You’ve been here less than a week, Curt. Do I have to write your Mother already?”

“Aw come on Val!” He was holding a carafe of the coffee in one hand, leaning back inside the Red Cross truck. “We’ve been friends since the sandbox, doll face! Please!”

“Curt, you step back on this truck and you’ll be in the med bay before you even see the inside of your plane.” She scowled, green eyes narrowed at him as she snatched the carafe from his hand.

“Killjoy.” He sighed, winking up at her as she handed him a cup of coffee, no doubt, fixed the way he liked it.

Blakely was shaking his head as he approached the Clubmobile, smiling up at Val as she offered him coffee that he didn’t hesitate to accept. She was always armed with a smile, and some days he felt she saved one especially for him, but he wouldn’t tell anyone that.

“He’s a pain in my ass.” She had offered by way of greeting that morning.

“Dickie would probably sympathize with you, ma’am.” He grinned, hazel eyes fixed on her own green.

“Oh, don’t I know it,” she shook her head. “And you can call me Val, Captain.”

“Then it’s only fair if you drop the formalities as well.” A teasing lilt to his reply.

She shook her head at him, but leaned forward towards him, her torso now fully outside the open hatch she was serving the Airmen from.

She’d be lying to herself if said she hadn’t been attracted to him since the minute she saw him. Striking hazel eyes, a finely trimmed mustache over his upper lip, and perfectly styled hair. The latter two seemed to be a requirement for Flyboy’s, she had noted. And he always had a cigarette tucked behind his ear should he need it.

Pinching a donut between two fingers, she allowed her face to get just a bit closer to his, before she offered it to him with a wink.

“Safe flight, Captain Blakely.”

“Val.” He grinned, plucking the offered snack from between her red manicured nails, before tipping his crush cap at her and heading towards the truck where his crew was waiting.

Dougie already liked to give him a hard time whenever he was caught ogling her at the Silver Wings Club from across the room. He no doubt had seen the exchange between the pair, because when Everett slid into the spot next to him on the truck, the bombardier wasted no time in letting him have it.

“You two set a date yet?”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“I’m your best friend,” Douglass elbowed him. “I’m supposed to be a pain in your ass.”

“Lucky me.” Blakely groaned, taking a sip of his coffee.

He wouldn’t tell anyone, but it was the best damn cup of coffee he’d had in months and he was sure it had everything to do with the woman who had made it for him.

When he returned from that first mission, Bremen, she was waiting in the Interrogation Hut just like the day he had first descended on the air field. Armed with coffee and whiskey, she spotted him as soon as he came through the door. He wasn’t sure, but he could swear the smile on her face that she was offering to all the boys stretched just a bit wider when she clocked him.

“Captain.”

“Val.” He grinned, fingers sliding around the rim of the whiskey glass she was holding out to him.

“Nice to see you safely on the ground.”

“Well, it’s nice to be on the ground again.”

Douglass was behind him, pushing him along to their designated area so that they could get this part over with as quickly as possible. It was one thing to be up there getting hammered with flak while praying for your life, but to have to relive it so that The Brass could get all the details straight, was the worst possible version of deja vu.

“Right, I need to uhh…”

“No, of course,” She nodded, picking up one of the coffees and handing it to Buck Cleven who had just walked in with John Egan. The Major looked positively rattled, and when she went to offer him a whiskey instead, Major Egan intercepted it for himself.

“He doesn’t drink.” Blakely whispered to her, answering the silent question on the tip of her tongue.

Val nodded in understanding before offering both Major’s a smile, watching as they moved further into the room. Then she turned back to Everett, giving him a gentle nudge towards where the rest of his crew was currently sitting.

“Go on, I’ll see you later. I’ve got to clean up here.” She had smiled at him as she began moving around the room to pick up the empty glasses.

“Blakely!” It was Colonel Harding, and he was standing in that way he often did, with his hands planted on his hips, and eyes narrowed in his direction.

Quickly shaking himself from his fog, he moved towards the empty chair next to Douglass, silently begging his friend not to say a word. At least not with the rest of their crew around.

They had been in Interrogation longer than he wanted to be there; the mission had been scrubbed, and Harding had wanted all the details. The how, why and when. But it was never the who that they focused on for too long. The who being the fellas who had died up there, whose blood was currently being washed out of the inside of the forts that made it back. Whos mothers didn’t know it yet, but were going to receive a letter from Major John Egan expressing his deepest sympathies for the loss of their son. His fort had been lucky, making it back to Thorpe Abbotts in one piece, and while he wanted to take the time to acknowledge that, he knew that his mind wouldn't let him. He would have to acknowledge the lost, and the broken pieces of this first flight before he could move on.

Leaving the Equipment Hut, he found Curt exiting the base Hospital. The stocky, former Brooklyn boxer looked slightly stunned, and when Everett made eye contact, the pilot gave a nod, before changing course to walk alongside him.

“You good?” Blakely spoke first, eyes cutting to the hospital they had just left in their rear view.

“Yea, wanted to check on Dickie.”

Dickie would have normally been in the co-pilot seat next to Biddick, but with Major Cleven riding with Biddick’s crew on this flight, Dickie had been down in the tail gun.

“What happened up there?”

“Frostbite,” Curt sighed. “Grabbed the tail gun without gloves on.”

“Jesus, he alright?”

“Smokey said it ain’t too bad, but could be a few weeks before he’s back in the seat.”

“Well, better frostbitten than dead I suppose.”

“Yea…” Curt trailed off. “How ‘bout you boys? Yous all make it back in one piece?”

“For the most part, physically at least.”

“Yea, I hear that.”

They walked silently towards the Officers Hut, the only thing on Blakely’s mind at the moment; a hot shower and change of clothes. He supposed that most of the fellas would make their way to the Silver Wings Club later in the evening, so long as the red light stayed the hell off and let them be. He hoped he wouldn't have to see it blinking again this week, but this was war, and it just didn’t sound promising.

Just as he was about to pull the door open to their nissen hut, Curt stopped him, hand pushing the door closed and forcing them both to stop walking.

“French 75.”

“You asking me to buy you a drink, Curt?” He raised an eyebrow at the shorter man.

“Val’s drink is a French 75.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask…”

“I ain’t blind.” Curt shook his head.

“I thought maybe Dougie tipped you off.”

“Oh, he did,” Curt winked, and Blakely couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh. “But I also seen yous two by the Clubmobile this morning, and she almost sent poor Tattie flyin to give you a drink back there.”

“How come you uh…how come you and her never got together?”

“Nah, I love her to pieces but not like that.”

He nodded, understanding exactly what Curt meant when he said that.

“Okay then…”

“B’sides, you heard her. I’m a pain in her ass.” Curt grinned wildly, and Blakely could see that he was proud to be Val’s very own pain in the ass. It was the same type of smile that Douglass gave him when he bestowed him with the very same compliment.

“Yea, she did mention that.” He shook his head.

“C’mon, let's go, I stink of fuel.”

By the time the band was playing, the Silver Wings Officers Club was filled with Airmen, and a mix of Red Cross and local women who had been invited by some of the pilots and crew. It was a hearty blend of people, and it wasn’t long before the dance floor was filled with couples.

Val was sitting with Helen and Tattie, the trio partaking in their favorite activity when they weren’t working: people watching. Discreetly, from behind their martini glasses, they would observe the goings on of the club, and who was doing what. It was also a subtle way for them to learn a little more about the men so that they could chat to them as they left for a mission.

“Wait, but she was seeing Egan last week!” Tattie spoke in a hushed voice. Even with the band playing, she didn’t want anyone hearing her. They were currently fixed on a local East Anglia girl who had been seen around the club before, most recently with Major Egan, but none of the women could remember her name.

“I guess she’s seeing Dye now.” Val sniggered from behind her drink.

“I heard he had the clap.” Helen chimed in.

“Egan!?” Val’s eyes went wide.

“No, Dye.”

“No! From who!”

“I don’t know who gave it to him!” Helen rolled her eyes.

“Not who gave it to him,” Tattie sighed. “Who did you hear it from?”

“Funny enough, John Egan.”

“I wonder how true it is, then,” Val shook her head, taking a sip of her drink. “He’s probably just sore over losing her to Dye.”

“Well, Flyboy’s are like that.”

“Not all Flyboy’s are filthy, Tattie.” Helen groaned.

“No, you’re right,” Tattie grinned. “Val’s seems like a gentleman.”

Helen and Tattie were both bearing bright grins in her direction, and all she could do was roll her eyes as she drained the last of her drink.

“You two are incorrigible.”

“So you weren’t flirting with Captain Blakely this morning? Helen leaned across the table at her.

“I was doing my job.”

“And this afternoon, in Interrogation, was your job to almost mow me down to get to him? Tattie raised an eyebrow at her.

“You were in my way, Tat…”

“Well then,” She grinned. “If he’s not your Flyboy, then I don’t know why he’s making his way over here with a drink in each hand.”

When she looked over to where Tattie’s gaze was focused, sure enough, there was Captain Everett Blakely, striding across the room towards their table, with a martini glass in one hand, and his whiskey in the other. She couldn’t very well hide the smile on her face as he approached, and knew that when she finally retreated to the women’s hut later that night, both Helen and Tattie would be there to pull every detail from her before they fell into their own beds.

“Ladies,” Blakely grinned, gaze landing on both of Val’s companions, before finally settling on her. “Val.”

“Captain Blakely.” She grinned, their game of formalities causing him to roll his eyes with a smile.

“Are we still doing that?” He asked. “This is hardly a formal setting.”

“Everett…” She allowed his first name to slip past her lips just the once, and watched as his eyes lit up at hearing her say it. “Are you drinking for two tonight?”

“Do you think so little of me that I would?”

“Oh, so that one’s for Douglass?” She teased.

“Actually, it’s for you. French 75, right?” He offered her the martini glass in his left hand, their fingers brushing as she accepted it from him. Just like they had that afternoon as she handed him his whiskey. She couldn’t help it. She could feel her cheeks warming up at the simple gesture and hoped that her rouge would hide it. She wasn’t sure she’d be that lucky, however, as his warm gaze was trained entirely on her.

“And who told you that?”

“Let’s just call them a reliable source.” He nodded, lifting his own glass to his lips, though she didn’t miss his grin.

She’d barely noticed Tattie and Helen slipping away from the table, the former immediately snatched up by James Douglass for a dance, while Helen; well, she wasn’t sure where she disappeared off to. Had her friends given her up that easily to him? Surely it hadn’t been Curt; he was everything a protective big brother should be, minus the bloodline. She couldn’t imagine her childhood friend willingly offering up any sort of information to a potential suitor. She knew better than anyone what he was like back home any time they had doubled with his flavor of the month and someone she met that wasn’t entirely turned off by her friendship with another man.

She’d resolve to find out who the reliable source was, but for now, she was intent on enjoying the company of the man who still stood in front of her.

“Would you like to join me?” She looked up at him through her lashes, red lips stretched wide with a smile just for him.

“I’d love to,” he returned the smile, and with a grace she hadn’t known a man to possess, ever, slid into the seat to her left. “Besides, what kind of person would I be if I left you here alone?”

“Not a very good one, I suppose.”

“Exactly, and my mother raised a gentleman.”

“Well, I’ll have to thank her then,” Val teased from behind her glass. “There are so few of you left.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky then, to be a gentleman worthy of your time.”

“You’re a flirt, Captain Blakely.”

“Are we back to the formalities?” He sighed, arms outstretched on the table in front of him, body slightly slouched in his seat.

“I’m only joking,” her hand fell to his arm, and she couldn’t help but admire the ropes of muscle she felt beneath the fabric of his uniform jacket. “But you are a flirt.”

“Do you see me flirting with anyone else here?”

That had her caught in his gaze, so much so that she barely noticed Curt striding into the room, and Helen intercepting him at the bar. She was sure that had he noticed her, he’d have skidded over to her and Blakely in such a state, demanding a dance with his best friend, that it would leave the Captain stunned and so put off, he’d never speak to her again.

“Val?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” shaking her head to dismiss the thoughts, she focused back on Everett, and how her hand was still resting on his forearm. “I promise it’s not you.”

His gaze softened, his head immediately turning from her to survey the room, trying to pinpoint exactly what, or who, had caused her the momentary distress.

“There’s someone in here you're trying to avoid.” He didn’t question it, so much as come out with it directly.

“Not avoid, per say…” she sighed. “But, I’m enjoying your company, and Curt just walked in and he has a habit of, well…”

“Being Curt?” He supplied a helpful smile.

“Driving away any man I’m interested in.” She had said the last part so quietly, head ducked down, that he strained to hear it.

“What was that?” His thumb and index finger gently cradled her chin, lifting her face back up towards him. His eyes were boring into her, hazel locked on green, and she couldn’t pull herself away even if she wanted to.

“I’m sure you’ve heard by now that Curt and I grew up together.”

“Yea, I heard it mentioned once or twice.”

“Our mom’s got close when we were kids; we lived in the same building growing up, and they’d usually toss us in the sandbox or let us run around the garden while they gossiped. So, Curt and I became like siblings.”

“Go on…”

“And like all good siblings, and in true big brother fashion, he likes to embarrass me in front of anyone I’m with.”

“Well, I’m not deterred by Curt Biddick.” He grinned, giving her jaw a gentle pinch with his two fingers before pulling back.

“It’s why I stick to the formalities with you…”

“Well, if it’s not too bold of an ask; unless you really need to, I’d prefer you call me Everett. Or Ev. Whichever suits you.”

“Okay…”

“Now, can I be bold once more?” He was trying to get her to crack another dazzling smile, and he’d be damned if the night ended before he succeeded.

“You’re pushing your luck, Everett.”

“There she is,” he grinned. “Could I have this dance?”

“I’d love nothing more.” She smiled, watching as he stood before gently taking her hands to guide her from her chair.

Drinks forgotten for the time being, Valencia allowed Captain Everett Blakely to lead her out onto the crowded dance floor. When he found a suitable spot, he gently twirled her before pulling her body close to his. His hands were warm, but not overly so, and she found that as one rested gently on the small of her back and the other held hers, that it was a comforting feeling she had been missing for quite some time. Not even dancing with Curt made her feel so at ease, and that normally would have worried her. Something about Everett Blakely and his warm hazel eyes pulled her in, and made her want to stay in his embrace for as long as possible. As he swayed them gently, his warm breath fanning across her cheek caused her to look up, her head lifting from where she was resting it on his shoulder, her gaze meeting his.

“Hell of a song.” He spoke softly, words just for them to hear.

She hadn’t noticed what the band was playing until he said it, the tune of You Go To My Head filling the club.

“Appropriate, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” his hand resting on her back pulled her just that much closer, the pins on his uniform catching on the button of her Red Cross jacket, but neither seemed to mind. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I landed last week.”

“Is that so?” Her hand that had been resting gently on his shoulder had somehow wrapped around him, her fingers finding a home in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“Think you might like to stay there a while longer?”

“Just a while?”

“As long as you like, sweetheart. I want to know everything about you.”

“Well, I’d say you’re off to a good start.” She whispered, her head moving back to his shoulder as the band moved into another song. Neither making any effort to part.

Neither of them saw it, but Curt was watching from the bar with a proud grin on his face.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @precious-little-scoundrel

#masters of the air #eight to the bar: blakely & val #mota fanfic #everett blakely x ofc #everett blakely fic #everett blakey #valencia dirosano (ofc)#david shields #hbo war #gina baker writes

37 notes · View notes

blood-mocha-latte · 2 days

Text

HOMESICK + H COMPANY

for the hboww2rewatch - week one prompt: friends.

#rie posts #hboww2rewatch #the pacific #i have Problems with this but it's FINE. it's fine!! it's fineeeee. it is Fine. (it is. garbage. hideous even)#oh and this counts as in the first three eps bc of the first column i take no arguments #bill hoosier smith #hoosier smith #wilbur runner conley #runner conley #sidney phillips #lew chuckler juergens #chuckler juergens #robert leckie #hbo war

35 notes · View notes

hboww2rewatch · 3 days

Text

TONIGHT: Our rewatch of Band of Brothers, The Pacific, and Masters of the Air in chronological order begins!

At 6:30pm PDT tonight (what time is this for you?), we will be watching the first episode of the Pacific. Find where to watch the episodes here.

Live blog along with us by using the tag #hboww2rewatch

If you can’t watch tonight, no worries! Watch whenever you can during the week.

We'll be watching the next episode on Thursday.

View the full rewatch schedule and prompts.

Please reblog this post to spread the word!

#the pacific #hbo war

34 notes · View notes

wordsaresimple-imnot · 2 days

Note

smut ,Joe liebgot and the reader dry humping and slightly pleasing eachother in there foxhole in the cold

Body heat - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader

Anon, I loved this prompt! Thank you! I hope you enjoy it! ;)

Warnings: 18+ content sorta, dry humping, making-out, cursing, she/her pronouns, 1st person pov (female).

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: This was fun to write and I enjoyed the idea a lot! Hope y'all enjoy it! Please comment, like, reblog :) :)

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

Another gust of wind lifts the tarp covering the top of our foxhole, blasting cold, wet air around us effectively stealing what little warmth we'd managed build up around ourselves.

"Goddamn it! When this is over, I never want to see the rain or snow ever again." I grumble, pulling the blanket tighter around myself, but it's damp and can only do so much.

"Quit bitching, you're ruining the mood." Liebgott smirks at the glare I shoot him.

"Fuck you." Any venom I have in my voice is lost as my teeth chatter.

"Would love to, but it's too cold." I see him shiver slightly.

"Glad to know that's the only reason." I roll my eyes.

"Course it is." He shoots me a wink and I feel a little bit of heat crawl up my neck and cheeks. Suddenly I'm thankful it's pitch black right now so he can't see my blush.

"Shut up." I mutter half heartedly, shoving his shoulder before attempting to get comfortable next to him. We are silent for a few minutes as, I assume, we try to get semi warm enough to doze a little until he speaks again.

"You know...sharing body heat is a great way to get warm." His voice is low but the words bounce around us on the wind. Again, I send a thank you to the universe that he can't see how flushed I am. I turn my head to tell him to shut up again and find his eyes already on me. The heat in his eyes has the words dying on my tongue.

"What?" Is all I can manage to get out, which I mentally kick myself for. Real smooth. His hand slips out from under his own blanket and grabs mine, tugging me towards him.

"Come here." He moves me around like I'm his own personal ragdoll, rearranging our blankets so one's over the top of our heads and shoulders and the other is around my back with the ends tucked behind him. The new position has be straddling his lap, our bodies centimeters away and our faces so close we are sharing each others breathes. I can feel his hands rubbing up and down my thighs, squeezing my hips every other time. My own arms are draped around his shoulders.

Joe nudges my nose with his. "Told you this would be warmer." All I can do is nod, making him smirk. "I don't know about you, but my lips are still cold."

At his words my eyes drop down to his lips and watch as his tongue runs over them, then look back to his eyes that haven't lost their heat. I make the split second decision to worry about the consequences and what-ifs at a later date and close the gap between us. He eagerly kisses me back, moving one hand to the back of my neck to hold my head where he wants it, while the other wraps around my waist to keep me flush against him.

Our tongues meet and we enjoy a long exploration of each others mouths; licking and sucking and nipping. After a particularly sharp bite on my bottom lip, I grind down onto his lap and then groan at the feel of his growing erection beneath me. I grind down again and this time Joe groans with me.

"Do it again, baby." He pleads against my lips. When I do he kisses me again to muffle the noises we make. I move one of my hands to grip his upper arm tightly to help my leverage and swivel my hips until I find the angle that gives us both the pleasure we need. Once I find that I set a hard pace that Joe eagerly lifts his hips to match.

Soon the cold around us is forgotten as we focus on keeping the other quiet and chasing the pleasure building inside us. Joe lets go of my neck and I feel both his hands grabbing my ass, using it to press me harder against him. My pace starts to become erratic.

"Fuck, I'm close Joe." Joe gives me a hard nip on my jawline and whispers in my ear.

"I got you, let go baby." My head turns to the side and I bite down hard on his shoulder, trying to hide my moan as much as possible. As I'm coming down from my high, I feel Joe's movements becoming more frantic. I turn my head away from his shoulder, nipping at the bit of flesh exposed on his neck and then his jawline.

Three thrusts later he stills beneath me, breathing heavily as he lets out curses and my name. We melt even more into each other, enjoying the post-orgasm bliss and warmth we created around us. Just as I'm drifting off, I feel Joe drop a kiss on the top of my head and my heart flutters.

But that's something to address at a later time.

#joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #fic request #anon request #hbo war #hbo band of brothers

34 notes · View notes