#Hoosier Smith Imagine
Text
You Before Me
Bill 'Hoosier' Smith x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: hiiii! this is my first ever hoosier fic, so please let me know what y'all think!! i've recently become obsessed with jacob pitts lol! this is about the fictional portrayal of the H company boys. i have nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!
Summary: During the battle for the Peleliu Airfield, (y/n) and Bill are separated after both being injured by a mortar shell.
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: injuries, blood, straight angst with fluff
PELELIU AIRFIELD: SEPTEMBER, 1944
Ringing.
It was all that filled (y/n)’s senses, drowning out the surrounding chaos. She could taste the acrid tang of smoke in the air, making her cough and struggle to catch her breath. Everything seemed hazy and distorted, the world spinning around her. Blinking, she tried to clear her vision and make sense of what was happening. Dust and dirt swirled in the air, making it hard to see beyond a few feet. She lay on her back, helmet long gone, trying to remember what had led to that moment.
They were taking the airfield.
Hoosier was with her and then–BILL!
“Bill,” she croaked weakly, blindly reaching out for him with a shaky hand, finding nothing but dirt and rocks. She rolled onto her side to look for him, but the movement caused white-hot pain to shoot through her body, sending sharp jolts of agony up her left leg. The pain was fierce, radiating from her ankle and calf. Every motion seemed to intensify the pain, making her grit her teeth as she sat up on her elbows, her eyes nervously drifting to her legs. (Y/n)’s eyes widened as she took in the damage. Her left calf was littered with shrapnel, and her ankle was turned at an unnatural angle, both oozing with blood.
She took a nervous gulp, throwing her head back against the rocks of the crater.
This was not good.
Taking a shuttering breath, she called out again. “Bill, are you there?
Through the ringing, she heard a pained grunt from her left. She recognized the sound instantly, and her heart fell, tears glistening in her eyes.
“Bill!” she cried into the haze, panic gnawing at her as she searched frantically for him. She prayed the smoke would clear and she’d see him looking back at her, unscathed with his signature lopsided smirk, but answers to prayers aren’t always what we’d like them to be. Through the smoke, she spotted his still form to her left, sprawled out on his stomach, his face etched in pain. Her heart lurched with both relief and fear. When she spotted the growing red stain on his lower thigh, the relief disappeared.
“No, no, no,” (y/n) whispered to herself before raising her voice. “Bill? Can you hear me?”
Summoning every ounce of strength, she rolled over and began to crawl to him, dragging her injured leg behind her. As she forced herself to crawl towards him, her breaths came out in ragged gasps, chest heaving with the effort to overcome the searing torment. The muscles in her leg protested every inch of progress, and she gritted her teeth, trying to muffle the pained sounds that left her lips. (Y/n)’s broken ankle got caught on a particularly sharp rock, and she whimpered involuntarily, a low, guttural sound escaped her as she clutched the rocky ground for support.
Pushing through the pain, she extended a trembling hand, her fingers brushing against his uniform, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath. He’d managed to pull himself forward, flipping over and propping himself up against the rocky wall of the crater, pained grunts filling the air. His breaths were shallow and ragged, eyes barely open as he fought to stay conscious.
When he managed to pry them open further, they were clouded with pain and drowsiness, wandering aimlessly for a moment before attempting to find (y/n)’s gaze. He saw her face above him, her lips moving rapidly, but he couldn’t quite understand what she was saying.
“You’re okay, hon. You’re okay,” (y/n) whispered, painfully sitting up beside him and putting pressure on his wound. His slick blood coated her hands as she pushed with all her remaining strength. As Hoosier lazily looked up at her, his senses slowly came back to him.
“(Y/n),” he mumbled. “I dropped my weapon.”
“It’s a-alright, Bill,” she whimpered, the pain in her ankle and leg flaring, sending waves of dizziness and nausea through her. The pain seemed to meld with the fog of fatigue, weighing down her limbs and blurring her focus. (Y/n)’s eyelids became heavy, as if someone had placed weights on them. She blinked forcefully, attempting to stay alert.
“Shit,” she groaned, her eyes drooping as her strength dissipated, the pressure on his leg lessening. Just as she felt herself slipping away, a familiar voice cut through the chaos.
“Oh, Bill. (Y/n),” Bob called, and seconds later, he was by their side, his eyes taking in the carnage before him. He had arrived just in time to take over the task of applying pressure on Bill’s wound, giving (y/n) a much-needed break. She let out a shuddering breath, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her as she fell against the rocky wall of the crater beside Hoosier.
“Corpsman!” Leckie screamed. “Corpsman!”
(Y/n) watched through a haze of drowsiness as Bill clenched his eyes and leaned his head back, breathing heavily. She shakily reached out for his hand, intertwining their fingers gently. His once strong hand now felt almost limp and lifeless in her grasp, and she squeezed it in an effort to keep him awake.
“We’re gon’ be alright, ” she strained.
Glancing at her leg, Bob’s eyes widened and he quickly moved one hand off Hoosier’s wound to get a better look at the damage, but she weakly pushed his hand away.
“No, Bob,” she rasped, her voice hoarse and filled with worry. “Bill…Please, help Bill first. He’s h-hurt worse than I am. I’ll be okay, just…take care of him.”
Bill flopped his head to the side to look at her with concern in his half-lidden eyes. “No,” he grunted. “(Y/n/n), no.”
Leckie shook his head, trying to help her again. “Your leg, (y/l/n)!” he exclaimed. “You’re gonna-”
“Bob,” she interrupted, her eyes lowering to Bill’s wound, tears in her eyes. “I know. Help Bill.”
With a frustrated growl, Leckie brought his hand back to Hoosier’s thigh. “Corpsman!” he yelled again. “Hey, everything’s gonna be fine, you two. It ain’t shit. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
Bill lifted his head for a moment, lazily licking his lips before peering down at (y/n), his gaze traveling down to her foot and its horrific position. “Darlin’,” he breathed. “Your foot.”
“I’m fine, Bill.”
Bob felt his heart tear seeing the usually spunky couple in such a pitiful state. “It ain’t shit,” he reassured. “You’re both gonna be fine.”
Hoosier’s eyes drifted closed, and (y/n) shared a panicked look with Bob. “Damn it! Corpsman! Stay awake! Both of you.”
She nodded feebly, her grip on Bill’s hand tightening as she fought to stay conscious. Pain and exhaustion weighed heavily on her, but she knew she had to be there for Bill. She struggled to keep her eyes open, blinking against the weariness that threatened to pull her into the darkness. After a minute that crawled by like hours, two corpsmen slid down into the hole. One of them quickly evaluated the situation and dropped down beside Bill, barking orders at Leckie as the other knelt beside (y/n), speaking gently. “Ma’am we’ve gotta get him stabilized. We’re gonna take him first, but we’ll be back for you, I promise.
(Y/n)’s chest tightened at the words, and she nodded weakly.
“Bill?” she heard Bob mutter from beside her. “Bill?”
Her unfocused gaze flew over to his face, watching as he lost his battle against unconsciousness, his eyes fluttering shut, whispering, “Sorry.” (Y/n) felt his grip go limp, and her eyes widened in fear and desperation. She released his hand and shook his shoulder, her voice trembling.
“Bill, no, please,” she pleaded, her words choked with emotion.
“Help me carry him back,” a corpsman stated, roughly looping his arms under Bill’s shoulders and lifting him with the help of the other corpsman. (Y/n)’s eyes never left them as they quickly carried him out of the crater. The second they left her view, she felt a sudden rush of adrenaline leaving her body. The pain from her injuries hit her anew, and every ache and throb seemed to intensify twofold. She groaned, closing her eyes tightly.
Bob turned and put pressure on (y/n)’s trembling thigh. He urged her to breathe, to focus on anything but the pain, but the agony was now all over her body.
“Focus on my voice, (y/n),” Bob implored, his voice shaking. “Hoos would kill me if I let anything happen to ya, so you’ve gotta stay awake for me, sweetheart.”
Spots danced in her vision and her eyelids drooped as she began to drift away into the darkness that was invading. “Stay with me, (y/n),” Bob replied, pushing more of his weight onto her leg. “They’re coming back! Stay awake!”
USS SAMARITAN (AH-10): SEPTEMBER, 1944
It had been a long few days since Bill had woken up groggy from the fog of his pain medications. The medical ship rocked subtly beneath him as he lay in his cot, an itchy blanket covering him. He was going out of his mind looking at nothing but the gray steel of the ship’s interior and hearing the moans and cries of his fellow Marines.
Since the moment he’d woken up, he’d been asking about (y/n). He asked nurses, other wounded marines, and anyone he could get a hold of. After four days of this, anxiety settled into his stomach, and he decided to search for her himself. He scanned the room for nurses before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, wincing at how it pulled on his wound. The man in the bed beside him was dead asleep, so he snatched his crutches and used his left leg to push himself off the bed. Bill smirked as he slowly started toward the hallway, but his plan came to a screeching halt when he heard a voice behind him.
“Just where do you think you’re going, private?”
He sighed and turned around, coming face to face with one of his nurses, Evelyn, who wore a disapproving expression.
“Just going to the bathroom,” he lied, nodding toward the door.
“Really?” Evelyn asked, amusement lacing her tone as she pointed to the opposite side of the room. “Because the bathroom’s that way.”
“Fine,” Bill grumbled under his breath. “You caught me. I need to find someone.”
“So what’s the lucky girl’s name?” she asked, helping Bill back into the bed.
“How’d you know I was lookin’ for a woman?”
She smiled. “The look in your eyes.”
A fond smile formed on his lips as he replied. “Corporal (Y/n) (y/l/n). She’s my best friend.”
“Just a best friend?” Evelyn smirked, peering down at him with a skeptically raised eyebrow. “Sounds like she’s more than that to you, marine.”
“She is,” he chuckled. “I’m lucky to have her.”
After a moment, his expression fell and his eyes drifted to the stark white bandages on his leg. “We both got hit by the same mortar,” he said softly. “I don’t know what happened to her.”
Evelyn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see what I can find out for you.”
Looking up at her with glossy eyes, Hoosier cleared his throat. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Another day passed, and there was still no word on (y/n) or her condition, and Bill became even more desperate. Later in the day, he saw Evelyn in the corner of his eye and waved her over.
“Ma’am,” Bill called out to her, his voice tight with worry. “Have you found her yet?”
Evelyn smiled gently and shook her head. “Sorry, private. No luck yet,” she sighed. “But I’ll keep asking around.”
He hung his head with a sigh, closing his eyes as he sunk back down onto the bed, bringing up a hand to run it down his face.
“I do have some good news, though,” she announced, getting a wheelchair from the corner. “We’re going on a trip to the top deck, and I think it’ll help you feel better.”
Bill grunted, turning onto his side and facing away from her. “No thanks.”
“Come on, private. Trust me,” Evelyn encouraged, her voice persuasive.
He hesitated for a moment, then sighed and relented. With a little help, he eased into the wheelchair. As they made their way to the top deck, he couldn’t help but be disinterested, his thoughts consumed by worry for the woman he loved. Once they reached the top deck, Bill was lost in his thoughts, absentmindedly watching the unending sea before him.
Evelyn pushed his wheelchair to a quiet spot, hoping the openness and fresh air would ease his worries. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” she asked, taking a deep breath.
Bill gave a faint nod but remained lost in his thoughts. As the sun caressed the deck with its warm embrace, he basked in its gentle rays, closing his eyes to fully immerse himself in the comforting warmth. The distant sounds of the ship and the gentle lull of the waves created a calming aura around him, temporarily easing the weight of the world from his shoulders. He thought of the last time he’d felt so relaxed: It had been beside (y/n) as they laid out on the beach in Melbourne, not a care in the world.
The distinct sound of a wheelchair being pushed beside him broke Bill from his memory, and a flicker of annoyance tinged his moment of peace. He wondered who was being wheeled so close. When he opened his eyes, however, annoyance quickly turned to a surge of relief and elation. There, right beside him, was (y/n) in a wheelchair, her head tilted toward him in a peaceful slumber. The second he saw her sleeping form, it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, the knot in his chest finally loosening. The anxiety and fears that had plagued him for days now seemed to disappear.
He found himself captivated by the soft curve of her lips and the way they seemed to hold a hint of a smile even in her dreams. They were lips he’d kissed a thousand times, each one bringing back a fond memory. Bill reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, tracing the delicate line of her jaw with his eyes. His heart swelled as he admired her every feature, from the sweep of her lashes to the graceful arc of her eyebrows. Hoosier couldn’t help but glance down at her foot, finding it wrapped in a large cast that reached from her toes to her knee. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he watched her, completely overwhelmed with emotion.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” he smiled, his hand tenderly cupping her jaw as his thumb gently rubbed against her cheek.
(Y/n)’s unconscious mind seemed to recognize the touch, and she leaned into his hand, a contented sigh escaping her lips. “Five more minutes,” she murmured sleepily. “I’m having a good dream.”
Bill chuckled softly, his gaze soft as he admired her peaceful form. “Well, darlin’, what dream could possibly be better than me?”
As if in response, her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light as her eyes met his ocean-blue eyes. “Am I still dreaming?” she asked softly, a sparkle of hope lighting up her eyes.
Hoosier shook his head, his voice filled with reassurance. “No, (y/n/n), you’re not dreamin’.
“Are you sure?”
“I know how I can prove it to ya,” he grinned.
He leaned over and gently placed a kiss on her lips as undeniable proof that he was truly before her. His hand remained tenderly on her jaw, his touch grounding her spinning mind. As he pulled away, they rested their foreheads against each other. A radiant smile graced her lips as she fully registered her presence, his loving gaze warming her heart. “Bill,” she whispered, feeling his warm breath on her face.
He grinned back at her, his eyes reflecting the same joy and relief she felt in that moment. “Hey there, beautiful. “How’s my favorite girl doin’?
“Better now that you’re here,” she replied, her eyes shining.
Bill pulled back slightly, intertwining their hands before he looked down at her foot, concern etched on his features. “How’s your leg feeling?”
“I should be asking you that,” she scoffed, shaking her head at his tough-guy attitude.
He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk gracing his lips. “Answer the question, woman.”
“It aches. My ankle was broken in three places, so I’ll be in this cast for a while and then crutches for months after that. How are you? You scared me to death, Bill.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted nonchalantly with a shrug.
(Y/n) pointed to his bandaged thigh, a teasing glint in her eyes. “I have eyes, ya know.”
“Piece of shrapnel nicked my fe-female-femorum…whatever that artery is,” Bill remarked, struggling to find the right words.
Breaking out into a laugh, she squeezed his hand. “It’s femoral, hon. You were so close.”
“Whatever it is,” he chuckled. “It wasn’t shit. Just like Leckie said.”
Her smile faltered slightly, and she turned her gaze from his face to the vast ocean before them. “So you remember what happened?”
Bill followed her gaze. “Some of it,” he admitted, his voice dropping. “I remember you tellin’ Bob to help me instead of you…I can’t believe you did that.”
“I’ll always put you before me. Always,” she affirmed, their eyes meeting in a solemn gaze.
“I feel the same,” he whispered. “But please don’t do that again. For my sanity.”
Hearing sniffles behind them, they craned their heads back, following the sound. Behind them stood Evelyn and (y/n)’s nurse, Jackie, with tears glistening in their eyes.
“Y’all are just too precious,” Evelyn exclaimed, her voice laced with elation as she wiped a tear off her cheek.
(Y/n) glanced at Bill, trying to hold back a laugh at his surprised expression. “You won’t be saying that when he starts to get all grouchy,” she joked, earning a playful scoff from him. “But really, thank you both so much. We really mean it.”
Jackie beamed. “Of course. We’re glad to have helped you two find each other again. Y’all will have a great story to tell your kids someday.”
Bill, though not one to easily show his emotions, found himself touched by their kindness. He cleared his throat, his gratitude evident in his eyes. “Thanks,” he mumbled, a hint of newfound shyness coloring his words.
“We’ll leave you to it,” Evelyn smiled as she and Jackie walked away to help another patient.
The couple turned back to the front with their hands still intertwined, and neither of them spoke for a moment as they stared out at the vast sea. The soothing sounds of the waves lapping against the ship’s hull filled the air.
“This kind of reminds me of that day at the beach,” she mused, looking over at him with a sly grin.
“Oh absolutely,” he retorted, his signature sarcasm making an appearance. “Except for the part where we’re fully clothed, surrounded by stinking marines, and half blown to hell. So, you know, I’d say it’s just like that day.”
(Y/n) rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand, bringing it to her lips. “Damn, I love you,” she drawled.
“Good, ‘cause you ain’t ever getting rid of me, darlin’.”
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IMAGINE — YOUR BOYFRIEND HOOSIER BEING SENT OFF TO PELELIU, AND HE GIVES YOU THE DOG HE SAVED FROM GUADALCANAL TO TAKE CARE OF.
NON REQUESTED
HOOSIER’S LAST DAY on Pavuvu base was unbearably painful. You stood there at the docks waving farewell to the ship as it is heading off at sea to everyone’s unknown fate. You were already familiar with war. Some of the men you interacted with never came back to base, and you knew why - because of that, the thought of losing Hoosier made you sick.
You kissed him goodbye before he stepped foot on the ship. As you left him a heartwarming kiss, he leaves you something behind in return. You bent down and petted the stray dog as it panted from the heat. Hoosier up on topside smiled down at you, remembering his promise.
“Take care of ‘em for me and I’ll come home for you.”
#the pacific gif imagine#hoosier smith gif imagine#hoosier smith imagine#the pacific imagine#the pacific x reader#hbo the pacific#the pacific#hoosier smith#hoosier smith x reader#reader insert#hoosier smith gif
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Could you use prompt 52. “Don’t look at me like that.” And a foxhole kiss for Bill Hoosier Smith of the Pacific?
Sky Full Of Stars // Bill "Hoosier" Smith Imagine
AN: Long time since writing. I have definitely missed it. I might be a bit rusty but I hope ya'll enjoy. And I used to have a taglist, but I honestly lost track. So just comment if I should make a post for people to comment on, making a new taglist!
Word Count: 1,711
Y/N sat in the foxhole, staring up at the stars that remained in the sky above. Her mind was mostly blank at that moment. It was a rough day for all of the Marines. A lot of loss, a lot of hunger, and a lot of lost morale. It was war after all. But, Y/N couldn’t help but just stare at the sky and think of nothing. She would rather think of nothing than think about how much she was truly hating life at this moment. Hating how hungry she was. Hating how tired she was. Hating how sweaty, unclean, and hating the stretch that her nearly rotten uniform stunk of after days to months of wearing it with no opportunity to shower. So nothing was peaceful at the moment. The silence, well more like the absent sound of gunfire, bombs, or screaming, was peaceful.
The thought of nothing was quickly interrupted but a thud of boots hitting the dirt of the female’s foxhole. Blinking, snapping out of her quiet glance, her head snapped over to the sound of the thud. Quickly reaching and grabbing her rifle just out of spite.
“Hey! Easy now, L/N. It’s just me,” rang the voice. Once Y/N heard the voice, and her eyes adjusted to the Marine’s face whilst in the dark, the female Marine relaxed. It was just Mr. Bill Hoosier Smith, a close friend of hers within the company. The breath she held was now exhaled as she slowly released her tightened grip on her firearm. “See, that’s more like it,” the male spoke as he gently sat down across from her. Letting out a heavy sigh as his knees popped whilst he sat. Y/N just sat quietly in response, kind of just staring at Bill.
Bill eyed her closely. Well as well as he could in the near pitch black night. Y/N’s silence was something new that came over the female Marine. A once bubbly woman, who always had quick responses for every snarky remark, question, or sarcastic statement ever said to her. Always willing to share a cigarette with her group of friends and always willing to speak up or talk into late hours of the night. Now it was quiet, and closed off. He didn’t blame her, but was still a little surprised at the sudden change in character. Of course he, and a few others had questioned Y/N before. But was met with it being shrugged off her shoulders and no true answers. But Bill, being the man he was, wasn’t taking no for an answer this time.
“Alright, I’m sick of this,” Bill started, after about five minutes of complete silence. While he was waiting for his female counterpart to say something. Anything at all. But nothing to his wishes. Y/N just looked at him, her face not changing at all. A blank, closed off stare. It was like Bill was looking at a stranger.
“Sick of what?” She debuted. Not a change in face still. No raising eyebrows. Not even a hint of attitude. Just a straight, monotone voice. That grinded Bill’s gears. Her eyebrows knitted together. He wasn’t mad at her. Not at all. He could think of a billion reasons of why she was starting to act the way she was. For christ sakes they were in the middle of World War II! But that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. And Bill Hoosier never showed himself worrying.
“Seriously? Y/N, you have single handedly sectioned yourself away from our friends and I. And you haven’t even noticed. Or maybe you have,” Bill paused in his words. Hoping Y/N would say something. But she didn’t. Her eyes shifted. They became glossy for a moment he swore he saw. But she quickly blinked and turned her head away for a moment before turning her head back over to Hoosier. This time her eyes showed more frustration, more emotion. But yet, nothing left her mouth. No explanation, not even any questions. And that grinded Bill’s gears even more. “Don’t look at me like that!” he whisper-shouted. Careful not to alert any other Marines resting in other foxholes.
Y/N’s eyes now definitely softened to the tone change. Her eyes become glossy once more. Now Bill was now frustrated, and highly confused. And that’s when Y/N’s eyes began to pour out tears. And a few stifled sobs left her lips.
To be truthful, Y/N had been slowly pulling herself away from everyone. Partially she herself noticed her actions, though partially she didn’t. More so, didn’t recognize how hard she actually was doing it. And now, all her emotions were coming up to the surface. Everything she had tried so hard to push down and away, was spilling over like a boiling pot.
“I'm sorry,” was all that spilled out of her lips. Bill sat shocked as he watched the female’s tears quietly slide down her mud caked cheeks. Getting onto his knees and shuffling to her side of the foxhole, he placed a caring and comforting hand to her shoulder. Y/N leaned into his touch. “I just-” she started and then she stopped. Trying to contain her heavy emotions and get her thoughts in order before she tried to speak.
In her world, in her mind, she believed if she had closed herself off from anyone, it would protect her own well being. Y/N had seen so much loss in her service on the Japanese islands, so many men dying in such horrific ways. Watching friends be shot, blown up, or both. Seeing so much death, destruction, and sadness. She couldn't bear the sight, or even the idea, of her closest friends falling victim to this war. Especially Bill Hoosier Smith. Who she thought more than just a close friend, a fondness of feelings had grown whilst their time spent together. Foxholes shared, ducking for cover with each other, and one night in Australia that the pair shared that stayed between them and only them. Never to be spoken about, but the thought remained in both their minds ever since. But, Y/N thought that if she just separated herself from the group, especially from Bill; that if anything was to happen to any one of them, it wouldn’t cloud her mind. That it wouldn’t take over her wellbeing so bad that she couldn’t bear to see the end of war. That plan seemed great in the beginning. Until she realized that the isolation made her feel a billion times worse. It made her feel alone and scared. But she thought she was already far too far into her plan already to back out of it now.
“Look, you know I’m not one for all that emotional shit,” Bill paused. Turning his head to the side momentarily to try to process his words properly. Not only was he not good with anything with emotions; he also wasn’t the best with women either. “Just talk to me about it, or don’t- well do whatever you want to do. But stop kicking us, especially me, to the side. We miss you damn it,” Bill took another pause. Y/N finally looked up at him, stifling her quiet cries for just a moment. Taking a deep breath and locking eyes with the female Marine. “I fucking miss you, god damn it.”
It didn’t take Y/N a second thought before she grasped the sides of her dear friend’s face and planted her lips onto his. Bill’s eyes widened, but he quickly grabbed the side of her face as well. Gently squeezing it, as her messy hair stuck between his hands.
Pulling away quickly Y/N looked at him, a few more tears rolling down her face. “I haven’t stopped missing you since that night we were in Australia,” she finally spilled. Her breathing became a bit more labored, and Bill just sat there staring at her. Still in a slight feeling of shock. “We brushed it off like it was nothing! And ever since then, and ever since things really started getting bad here. With all this death and dying happening all around us,” Y/N stopped to take a breath. Wiping a few stray tears that leaked from her eyes. “The thought of you had been clouding my judgment, making me make mistakes on the field. Which isn’t your fault, but I thought if I had just distanced myself and not thought of anything to do with you; my mind would clear up,” Glancing down at her hands and sucking in her bottom lip. “But it didn’t. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how much I missed you. And it was distracting me even more,” Placing her face in her hands and shaking her head. “God this is so embarrassing,” she muttered through her hands.
Bill was now a little shocked by the confession. Of course, he felt the same way. He was just some idiot Marine that didn’t know how to express his feelings in the slightest way. He thought if he just didn’t talk about it, the nagging thought would just go away. But clearly, that didn’t work for either of them. So now here they were, both sitting in silence. Bill just sat trying to figure out what he should say next.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Bill started, Y/N peaked up through her hands. Scratching the back of his head for a moment, with a soft sigh. “All I’ve thought about for the past few months has been how bad I wished we were back in Australia,” taking another deep breath. Pausing just for a second longer. “And I wished it was just you and me back home in Indiana. Out of all this mess,” he stated. Scooting himself to sit besides her. Resting his elbows on his knees and staring up at the black sky full of stars.
Y/N sat up and rested her head on his shoulder. “We can do that. After all this,” she whispered. Now also looking up at the stars. Bill looked back down at the woman and a small smile formed on his lips.
“Alright then, Corporal L/N. You got yourself a deal.”
#band of brothers#hbo war#hbo#hbo series#band of brothers imagine#the pacific#the pacific imagine#imagines#imagine#bill hoosier smith#bill hoosier smith imagines#x reader#hbo war x reader
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The Pacific Masterlist
Robert Leckie:
War Poet
Crackers & Jam
Eugene Sledge:
Home, Sweet Home
Saved
Sidney Phillips:
Ireland Whiskey
Movie's Magic
Bill "Hoosier" Smith:
Shirt Incident
Tattoos
Charlie
Secretly in Love
Stubborn Lovers: Part One, Part Two (completed)
Glances
Heat & Shirts
Mysterious
Stay with Me
Andrew "Ack Ack" Haldane:
Foxhole Love
Missing Piece
Spy Soldier
Edward "Hillbilly" Jones:
Let Me Love You
By Your Side
October 10, 1944
Lew "Chuckler" Juergens:
Love Me Tender
Wilbur "Runner" Conley:
Confessed
#the pacific#the pacific imagine#the pacific imagines#hbo war#wilbur runner conley#runner conely#runner conley imagine#chuckler juergens#chuckler juergens imagine#edward hillbilly jones#edward jones#hillbilly imagine#andrew haldane imagine#andrew ack ack haldane#ack ack imagine#ack ack haldane#hoosier imagine#bill hoosier smith#hoosier#bill smith#eugene sledge#eugene sledge imagine#sidney phillips#sidney phillips imagine#robert leckie#robert leckie imagine
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Thanks for the lemonade
Note: I used the idea of meeting Hoosier and Chuckler for the first time as a basis for easing myself into fanfiction writing. It’s meant as an exercise so it’s pretty tame, but read along if you like. :)
Wordcount: 1262
Warning: smoking??
Pairing: Hoosier x Reader
Summary: You’re pouring lemonade at the nurses stand when two marines take your mind off of gloomy thinking with some cheerful chatting.
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The sun was burning your cheeks as you poured cups of fresh lemonade for the row of tired marines lining up at the nurses’ stand. Some were watching you with expressions of confusion, some disbelief, some amusement and some were looking right through you, making you feel as hollow as the gaze with which they beheld you.
You poured as much care and gentleness as possible into every cup while you passed them into dirty hands. Every once in a while you heard croaky voices mutter “thanks or “ma’am” in your general direction, but most marines took the cups silently. You had seen and heard the horrible aftermath of battle in your time as a military nurse, but this was your first time looking into the faces of those still stuck in the nightmare from which some never wake. Feet dragging with the heaviness of knowing that each step taken is a step closer to their doom.
You thought of all the wounds of war you had healed and how only few of them would be as crippling as the one these men already carried. A wound that in the hospitals had been masked to you by the relief of escape.
“Too lovely a day to be frownin’ on isn’t it ma’am?”
The words interrupting your heavy thoughts were spoken by a tall dark-haired man that had just taken a cup of lemonade from your hand. He looked rather too battered to be speaking of lovely days you thought, but the friendly smile that shone on his grimy face suspended your disbelief for a moment.
“oh, I don’t know” you blinked at him, not wanting to disagree and started to pour another cup.
“Not exactly a sight for sore eyes eh?” – a slightly shorter man next to first one joked as you passed him some lemonade. You let an unsure smile graze your face as you studied them both for a hint of whether the comment was an invite for pity or for fun. Despite the appearance of it, you guessed that the second man to speak had fair hair underneath all that dust and muck.
He saw you hesitate and continued to speak;
“I clean up nice believe it or not, but unfortunately for my friend here he always looks sick as a dawg” he said and slapped the tall guy on the shoulder. That got a laugh out of you and you watched the taller guy scoff and roll his eyes, looking amused.
“Lotta ladies beg to differ” he replied smugly; “Ain’t that right Hoosier?”
“Ain’t right at all” the shorter guy retorted and caught your eye as you laughed at their banter.
Your laugh was about the sweetest thing the men had heard in a long time. Especially the one called Hoosier thought so and it made him straighten up a bit. In fact your laugh was just as sweet as you looked - cheeks red from the sun and loose strands of hair tucked behind your ears… Hoosier kept his appreciation to himself and hoped that you might extend the interaction with an answer. You noticed the anticipation.
“Well…” you smiled, deciding to join in on his joke, “the lemonade was supposed to liven you up a bit, but if your friend’s looking no better by tomorrow I’ll get you your money back.” Hoosier let out a chuckle at your reply. Not a full toothy grin but an upwards tug of the corner of his lips that despite its modesty reached his eyes. Bright eyes that bored into yours with what you thought was approval and suddenly hoped was a little more than that.
“Oi!” The taller man exclaimed with a grin as you shifted your eyes to him, “the friend has a name! I’m Chuckler” he said and stretched out a dirty hand towards you, taking no notice of your joke being on his expense.
“Chuckler?” You asked and shook his hand when an officer yelled in your direction.
“You two! Quit bothering the nurse! You’re holding up the line!” Chuckler let go of your hand and eyed the officer with blatant annoyance.
“Are we bothering you Ma’m?” he asked politely.
“Not at all…” You smiled at them. “But I don’t know if the same can be said for him” you looked discretely in the direction of the officer that had yelled, and was now staring intensely at the marines in front of you.
“Guess we better get movin… Thanks for the lemonade” Hoosier said and they both quickly emptied the small cups and put them down. Chuckler started moving away to neutralise the dissatisfaction of the glaring officer. Hoosier made to follow but then leaned back and offered you a handshake.
“‘Don’t believe I gotcher name, miss?” He said. The hand open in front of you was as dirty as the one his friend had offered, with scraped knuckles and dust that had settled in to darken every fine line. You were happy to take it.
“Y/L/N” you told him. You felt a tingle up your spine as his fingers closed around your small soft hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Y/N Y/L/N” you elaborated. His head was angled so his brow shielded his eyes from the sharp sun but you thought they glimmered still.
“Pleasure to meet ya, miss Y/L/N” he said “I’m-”
“Hoosier?” You interrupted and he nodded with an amused expression. You felt the name bear a weight on your tongue as if you had spoken a big important word whose meaning you had yet to discover.
“That’s right” he said still holding your hand. He let go with a slight jolt when Chuckler grabbed onto his shoulders with a tug.
“Officer’s getting real red in the face over there buddy” he said and Hoosier looked over nonchalantly. The officers jaw was tightly clenched, apparently debating what effect repeating himself would have.
“Looks like yer right” Hoosier commented and turned back to you.
“‘Scuse us Ma’am” he said and they left you to your task. You absentmindedly continued the repetitive motion of pouring and handing over cups of lemonade as you followed the two marines with your eyes.
In the tired oncoming of battle-worn men, it lifted your spirit to see good humor among some of them. Chuckler and Hoosier had made their way to a small group of marines who you guessed might be part of their company. Some of them were laughing and a few of them looking extremely tired, but all content in each others presence as they awaited orders on where to move.
Although he had his back turned you could see Hoosier pull a cigarette from his pocket and swiftly pull out a lighter after it. He let the cigarette hang loose from this lips as he lighted it with ease. You thought he moved with a sort of careless elegance, that despite the pitiful state of his uniform and dirty skin made him look quite charming. Then he flicked the lighter closed and as he placed it back in his pocket he swung his head around and looked at you. Lightening went through you as his blue eyes met yours – caught already staring. You thought you saw the hint of a smirk on his lips before you turned your eyes down. You could feel your cheeks flush from something other than the sun.
Though intently focusing on keeping your eyes on what your hands were doing, you eventually gave in to the temptation to steal another glance at Hoosier, but when you looked up, him and his companions had gone.
#the pacific#the pacific imagine#fanfic#bill hoosier smith#hoosier#hoosier x reader#hbo war#chuckler juergens#the pacific fanfic#imagine
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hi, i really love your art!! (it's so cute and is singlehandedly feeding my RE obsession fr, thank you so much ^_^) do u have any playlists or songs that remind u of the games/characters?
OH YEAH BABEY I WAS WAITING FOR THIS!
ethan:
when i was done dying - dan deacon
evil - interpol
SAD- lemon demon
hermit the frog- marina and the diamonds
watching him fade away - mac demarco
the outsider- marina and the diamonds
chateu (feel alright) - djo
passing out pieces- mac demarco
dead or alive- oingo boingo *
poor grammar- roar *
chris:
gotta be a reason - alec benjamin
heaven knows im miserable now- the smiths
lonely zone- vansire
karl:
power freaks- jean dawson
community gardens- the scary jokes
kiss me son of god - they might be giants
eveline:
maybe- flower face
the tv made him do it- moon walker *
mia:
rules- the hoosiers
our word -36 questions
youth- daughter *
miss dimitrescu:
when a woman is around- unloved
mithan:
the truth -36 questions
MIA- chakra efendi
birds dont sing - TV girl
yr the best - carpet garden
care- TEMPOREX
no children - the mountain goats
lost kitten- metric *
rosemary: *
wild sage (cover) - claypup (the mountain goats)
wintersberg: *
evil side- the dirty nil
me and mr wolf- the real tuesday weld
( if i update i will reblog :3)
(* means recently added)
updated:
1/28/23: added a song to ethan, mia, eveline, mithan added rosemary and wintersberg section
(btw these arent songs that i think they would listen to, these r songs i could explain why every single line of lyrics relates to the charcter and how i can imagin a entire animation to it)
#ethan winters#chris redfield#karl heisenberg#eveline re7#mia winters#alcina dimitrescu#mithan#resident evil village#resident evil#rose winters#rosemary winters#wintersberg
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tag game!
thanks @georgieluz for the tag!
last song: a little bit longer by the jonas brothers (they're my fav)
favourite colour: i loooove sage green!
currently watching: justified (fx) - I started watching it after getting Jacob Pitts brainrot, and now I'm hooked!!
last movie: redeeming love
sweet/spicy/savoury: I'm typing savory as I am in the middle of eating a mint chocolate chip milkshake :)
current obsession: the pacific/hoosier smith/jacob pitts
relationship status: single and healing!
last thing you googled: "No Child Left Behind Act 2001" for a research paper that is related to my major! (history education)
tags (no pressure of course!): @softguarnere @hxad-ovxr-hxart @inglourious-imagines
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wanna dance? ~ bill 'hoosier' smith (the pacific)
my masterlist | my hbo war masterlist
pairing: bill 'hoosier' smith x female reader
short summary: him and her have been best friends for a couple years before the war, and they keep in touch even when he's away - only to realise with time that they're in love, but for varying reasons neither confesses.
words: 4.4K
a/n: this is written for the hbo war secret santa 2021 event !
dear @itsametaphorgwil , this is me, your secret santa! happy holidays to you, lovely one! have an awesome day and an even better christmas and new year's eve! i wish you all the best xx hope you'll like this lil present i made for you ♡
also huge thanks and love to @hbowardaily for organising this!! ✨
(y/n/n) means: your nickname
"Dear Bill,
Yesterday I met the old Mrs Thomas in the store and she asked about you – do you remember her? She was the one lady I accidentally bumped into at the Town Hall last Christmas when you chased me down the corridor, the one whose drink I spilled on both our dresses.
Lord, what an embarrassing moment. Anyway, she doesn't seem to remember – or if she does, she didn't bring it up, thankfully.
I wish we were still living in last year, or preferably the year before that. Then you would still be here, with all your stupid and slightly irritating jokes. Now every day feels the same – I wake up, I help Ma with the housework, then go to the store for my shift, leave in the late afternoon, check if there's a letter from you, another round of chores and finally going to sleep. All the while worrying about you.
And you know what's real frustrating? You're overseas, fighting for our country, risking your life, whilst I'm here, at home, doing the same things I've done before the war – except of course not meeting you every other day. I feel useless.
Enough of my complaining, tell me how you're doing. I hope it's not as bad as I imagine it to be. Please take care of yourself.
Yours sincerely,
your best friend (y/n)"
- - - - 3 years earlier - - - -
"Are you ready?" Dorothy calls out from the bedroom.
"One moment!" (y/n) answers equally loud from the bathroom, pulling the hairbrush through her hair one last time, glancing in the mirror to make sure everything's as perfect as it could be and moves back to her room with an excited bounce in her steps.
After promising her mother that she's going to be back by curfew, the two girls leave the house, practically rushing to the dance – this is the first time their parents let them go to an event like this and they feel like bursting with excitement.
Though after about half an hour, (y/n) has to admit that it's not like she hoped it would be. Dorothy has been asked to dance in the first twenty minutes, and has disappeared from her sight completely. Now she's standing by the wall all alone, watching all the couples dance. It's definitely not as enjoyable as she predicted.
But then a boy slumps down on a chair a few steps from her, a loud huff leaving his lips and it piques her interest so she turns her attention to him instead of the dancers. She's seen him around town before – which isn't surprising at all, Loogootee has never been a town big enough for the people living there to not know everyone else at least by sight –, and she knows that he lives two streets down from her, and goes to the same high school, only a year above her.
She can't help but wonder what got him looking so moody on a night that's supposed to be all fun.
About a minute later his head snaps towards her and swiftly she turns her gaze back to the dancefloor, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks for being caught staring – even if she wasn't staring like that.
"You wanna dance?" A voice speaks up next to her after a couple seconds, and glancing to the side she finds the same boy now standing right next to her.
With a confused frown forming on her forehead, (y/n) can't help but glance around to make sure he's talking to her. "Okay," she nods eventually when she finds no one else nearby.
"I'm Bill," he introduces himself on their way to the dancefloor.
"I know," she chimes back a bit taken aback still, but feeling it slowly dissolve into a happy atmosphere surrounding them. "I'm (y/n)."
"I know," Bill grins at her, and his response is enough to break the ice between the two as they burst into giggles.
As they start dancing, she can't help but remember the way he threw himself on that chair just a couple minutes prior, and she's back thinking about the possible reasons behind it within a moment.
"What are you thinking about?" His voice brings her out of her train of thoughts.
"Nothing," she's fast to reply, but seeing him raise an eyebrow in question she knows he won't take it as an answer. "Well, I was thinking about what got you so grumpy previously."
Bill grunts, his eyes darkening once more. "The girl I came with ditched me for someone else," he shrugs.
(y/n) takes a sharp breath, not expecting such an answer, and she feels herself grow sadder for him. "I'm–"
"I know, you're sorry. Don't be," he cuts in. "I just wanna forget about it, okay?"
All she can do is nod in response and so they continue dancing without a word for the next few minutes. When the song that's been playing ends, he asks if she wants to go out to get some fresh air and since before he appeared she was standing alone, she immediately agrees.
As if the new dosage of oxygen had a magical effect on him, he starts talking right away – and from then on, he's almost unstoppable, words flowing from his lips. He's determined to make her laugh, and he definitely succeeds most of the time – her facial muscles start hurting as the night goes on from all the wide smiling and laughing she's done.
When the time comes for her to go back home, he offers to walk her – reasoning that he wouldn't want to stay longer anyway and that he lives in the same direction – and they keep up the joyful conversation all the way to her front door. They say goodbye, and she disappears inside the house, thinking about how blue it makes her that everything will go back to normal now, and he won't be listening to his funny stories any time in the future.
Living in such a small town, they eventually keep on bumping into each other after that night, even out of school – especially when she starts helping out in her family's little store. He turns up often, with his friends or by his own when his mother sends him for something, and the two of them always chat a little, more and more as time progresses.
Then one time he (accidentally) stays until the end of her shift, and then they eventually spend the rest of the day together, wandering around town and talking about anything and everything – and just in general, having fun. From then on, it becomes a regular thing, every week (then later on even more than once a week) he shows up at the store just in time to catch her leaving and they go somewhere together.
They literally spend every free minute together – they are best friends despite the gender differences.
- - - - - - - -
"Dear (y/n),
I'm in Melbourne now, can you believe it? They sent us here to relax some and refit. The people here are awfully nice, and finally I had a comfortable enough place to sleep in and time to do so as well – it felt indescribably great.
Today the guys and I went sightseeing, well, as long as you can call sitting in different bars throughout the day sightseeing. (I know you're shaking your head right now, but don't even try to deny that you let out a small laugh too. I know you too well, I can even hear your laughter in my ears as I'm writing this. God, I miss hearing it in person.)
How is life going back home? Has your sister recovered from her illness yet?
Hopefully I can write more consistently to you from now on, at least as long as we stay here.
- - - - - - - -
Yours,
Bill"
It gets harder and harder every day for (y/n) – since she's realised that what she feels for Bill is something more than just friendship she's been only missing him more. There are times when she feels like stopping answering his letters, because maybe it would all be easier if she let go and tried to get over him, to forget about her stupid feelings towards him.
But every time, after a couple days pass, before she can realise what she's doing, she's sitting at her desk, a pen in her hand and a paper in front of her on the wooden surface. She can't stop writing back to him – for multiple reasons. First, she fears that if she stopped, it would only do harm to his morale, maybe he wouldn't be able to focus as good wondering why she's not replying. Second, she misses him. Too much to just not write. She wants to hear about him, hear from him. Third, worry is eating away at her. Her best friend is overseas, close to dying every other minute, and she can't do a thing about it. If she doesn't hear from him and makes sure he's alive, she won't be able to take it.
Which means that she has to find a different method to get over him.
On the other side of the world, Bill holds onto the letters he's gotten with the utmost care, he treasures them as if they're worth more than gold – because to him, they do. He misses her like hell, and for some reason he can't help but feel that she's the only thing keeping him grounded. The only thing that keeps him believing that the war hasn't destroyed everything worthwhile in this world for good, that there are still things to be alive for, to be happy for – like her and their friendship.
And even though they keep on experiencing such different things, and their lives aren't as similar as they have been back when they were nothing but kids from Loogootee, Indiana – and they each have their very different difficulties to face and fight every day, they both make sure to reply to the other's letters.
After literal years of hearing about almost nothing else from his friend but this mysterious girl named (y/n), one day Leckie proposes the possibility to Bill that even though he seems pretty oblivious about it, he might be in love with her.
"Basically since the first day we've met, every other sentence you say includes her in some way," Leckie shrugs after mentioning his opinion.
"Nah, that's stupid, she's my best friend and nothing else," Hoosier shakes his head, a chuckle leaving his lips as his eyes move around their surroundings.
"You sure?"
"Of course I am, I love her like a sister. I'm not in love with her."
"Okay, you know better," Leckie raises a hand in defense and turns back to writing a letter to Vera, but his eyes disclose that he's not at all convinced by his friend's reasoning.
For the next couple days, all Bill can think about is Leckie's words, even when they are getting shipped to another battle to fight, this time to Cape Gloucester. He can't put it into words why he can't seem to shake the thought, but it keeps on repeating inside his head whenever he has at least one second when he has nothing in particular to do.
And as any postal service they could get is delayed due to their fighting, he doesn't hear from (y/n) for a while and the feeling of missing her becomes almost too much to bear. Suddenly, it's crystal clear that he's been only living in oblivion and that's she's actually the love of his life. God, how ignorant he's been all this time.
When he tells Leckie that he was right, the man just shakes his head with a look that says 'finally' – he doesn't know how much longer he could've taken Hoosier being so stupid.
- - - - - - - -
"Dearest Bill,
I'm so glad to hear you're back in somewhat safety again, not in the direct line of fire!
Johnny Baker, you know, from Grant Street, got wounded - he's been transferred to some hospital I don't know where. Did you by any chance meet him over there? Maybe you were fighting together. But I guess there's only a slight chance for that, there must be so many different groups of soldiers fighting that don't meet at all - sorry, I'm not familiar with these Marine terms.
Anyway, when Mr Brown came to the store this morning and started saying how one of the local boys who enlisted got hit, I felt like fainting. I don't know how I would survive losing you. I lo I've never been more impatient in my life than that time to hear his answer when I asked him who it was. I also felt a little bad later, because I probably looked a bit too relieved for someone that just got to know that a boy from around here is in hospital, with a wound that might be very serious for all I know.
I hope the days aren't too dull for you, and you can get some well needed rest again. Tell my greetings to your friends for me, please. It's always nice to hear your stories about them.
- - - - - - - -
Yours,
(y/n)"
(y/n) almost confesses in one of her letters, totally by accident – luckily she realises it just in time and she can cross it out without it being too obvious what she wanted to say initially.
Ever since understanding her true feelings, she's thought about this various times, whether she should tell him about it or not. In the end, common sense always won.
She wouldn't want to divert his mind from more important things – like fighting a war. And also, somehow more importantly, because of fear of rejection. He's him and she's only her. Why would he want anything to do with her when it comes to dating? It's not like she doesn't know how he feels. He's told her – and others who asked about the two of them throughout the years – so many times how he loves her, but only as a sister. Just like if they were family members.
And she would never want to ruin their friendship – she values it more than to let it disappear only because of her stupid feelings.
What she doesn't know, that with the help of his friends, Hoosier is able to somewhat decode her letters – they spend a great portion of their free time in Pavuvu reading and analysing the words she's written. Of course, the most useful man when it comes to deciphering meanings behind words (fully written or crossed out half-words) and sentences is Leckie. Runner even jokes about how he should do this as a job when the war ends.
Despite her trying not to give anything away, they come to the conclusion that she's probably in love with him too – after what Hoosier literally jumps up and punches the air with his fist, feeling an outburst of joy none of them have felt in quite a long time now.
Still, he can't make himself writing down the words in any of his letters that would let her know how he feels. He knows he might die one of these days and he most definitely doesn't want to put her through any more heartbreak than necessary.
He doesn't want to be the one to wake false hope in her about how one day he might go back home and they could start a life together. What is more, he doesn't want her to wait around for him, especially since there's such a huge chance that he might as well never go back again. She should find someone to settle down and start a family with, why wait around for someone who's half dead already?
Bill even asks her about any possible guys around town she could date – reading his suggestions (y/n) can't help but roll her eyes, thinking about all the dinners she's spent with a couple men from around town who weren't overseas, at least not anymore because of different slighter wounds. They all went down the same way, everything was going totally fine but she still couldn't shake one thought – that none of these men are him.
- - - - - - - -
"Dear (y/n),
I hope you're not too worried by now, because I'm fine. Sure, these past weeks haven't been my best ones yet, but I'm doing alright now, and that's what matters. I'm in hospital now, trying to heal as fast as I can. As soon as they let me out, I'll be on my way home and nothing can stop me, truly. Definitely feels weird to be back in the country though!
Did I miss anything interesting since my last letter? Please, let me know of anything and everything. The longer your reply is, the better. I have to have something to do to prevent me from going fully crazy in this place. Don't take it as if I'm not grateful for being here – they take real good care of me, and I know I'm lucky to be here, and not buried in the ground. (Sorry, that got a little too heavy.)
Can't wait for us to meet again! It's what keeps me going on the nights I can't sleep.
- - - - - - - -
Yours sincerely,
Bill"
(y/n) calculates the change and places it gently into the hand of the customer standing on the other side of the counter, when the lady speaks up. "I didn't know Bill Smith was coming home."
She glances up, slightly frowning at the sudden comment, not really knowing what to answer – in the end she just hums in agreement.
"He just drove past me on the street when I was on my way here, at first I thought my eyes are mistaken," the woman continues eventually even without getting an answer.
"He drove past..." (y/n) repeats the words, freezing in place as they suddenly get a meaning inside her head as well.
She didn't know he was arriving home today – hell, she didn't even know he was released from the hospital in the first place.
Then, as if trying to make up for the time wasted when she stood frozen, she unties the straps of her apron with fumbling fingers, almost tearing it in the hurry to get it undone, then rushing around the counter she throws the entrance door open and with the following glance of a surprised customer she's already on her hurried way to the Smith's house.
Getting to their front door, (y/n) takes only one second to try and catch her breath before her knuckles rap a fast and loud rhythm on the wooden surface. Her fingers impatiently play with the material of her skirt as she waits for someone to open it – and as soon as it cracks open, she starts speaking, not even waiting for the other to acknowledge her.
"Mrs Smith! Lovely to see you! I've heard Bill has arrived home, is he here? Can I come in?"
Practically not even waiting for an answer she rushes past the older woman who stares after her with a warm and wide smile, watching as she practically flies into the dining room.
Loudly crying out his name as soon as her eyes land on the boy (y/n) immediately draws attention to herself. Bill's eyes widen and this time it's him to freeze – he feels like he's not able to move a single muscle in his body from the surprise of seeing her so unexpectedly.
With a few quick steps she's right in front of him, leaping straight into his arms, not caring at all about his family all around them watching or not behaving well-mannered. When her body comes in contact with his, Bill comes back to life, his arms move to tightly grip her waist to keep her right there, pulling her impossibly close to him.
Oh, how many times he's dreamed about this in the past years. And now finally he can do it.
"It's so amazing to see you," she breathes out, face still buried in his neck. "I missed you so bad."
"I missed you a lot too, (y/n/n)," he whispers back, his palms gently moving up and down her back in a caressing manner. His eyes are closed as he tries to live the moment to the fullest and store every little detail of it as perfectly as he can.
When the initial great happiness decreases a little – but only a little –, (y/n) loosens her arms around his neck as a signal and he gently puts her back down to stand on her own two feet. She glances up at his face, but only for a moment because she knows that if she wasn't careful enough, she would get lost in his almost grey but still blue orbs and wouldn't be able to tear her gaze away from them.
Later on in the afternoon, the two of them are sitting in the backyard just talking and catching up – and it feels as if no years has passed since their separation, as if it was only yesterday when they last saw each other.
"I just don't think it was fair of him to say that, you know? And even though mother wants me to go and apologise to him, I don't want to," the girl rambles on, her right hand mindlessly moving across the lawn as she's enjoying the soft feeling of the blades of grass stroking her skin. "What do you think I should do?"
When she doesn't get an answer for a couple long seconds, (y/n) looks up to find Bill already watching her – his eyes somewhat dazed, a heartwarming and butterfly-awaking smile playing on his lips. And it's more than clear that he's not paying any attention to her.
"Bill," she tilts her head, but it seems that it's not enough to grasp his interest so she takes to more drastic measures and calls out his name louder, her fingers snapping in front of his eyes. "William!"
"What?" He asks back, his whole body wincing in surprise as he wakes from his daydreaming.
"Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" (y/n) shakes her head with a playfully disbelieving look in her eyes.
"Ah, I'm sorry," Bill diverts his gaze in slight embarrassment, and she could swear she saw a blush forming on his cheeks. "Could you repeat it?"
"It's not important," she shrugs, smiling at his profile, taking in the lines that write his face, enjoying that she can watch him without him catching her in the middle of it.
"No, wait, I wanna hear it. Anything you say is important to me. I'm sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. Please, tell me."
"Nope. Should've listened the first time."
Hoosier rolls his eyes, looking back at her. Their eyes connect and she can see something naughty sparkle up in his orbs just then but there's nothing she can do when the next moment she's being tackled down to the ground by him, his hands roaming around her sides, tickling her wherever he reaches.
"No, stop! Stop, Bill, please!" (y/n) exclaims, trying hard to wiggle away from him, but while once ago she might have been able to push him away, him being a marine for years has made him too strong for her to stand any chance now.
A minute or so later he stops his movements, leaning over her and catching his breath. His eyes sparkle bright as he stares into her (y/e/c) ones, and suddenly he knows he has to confess. It's not like his reasons why not to are valid anymore – he's not fighting a war, facing death about every day. All his mental contradictions are out the window now, so why would he keep quiet about it?
"I love you," he speaks up gently a second later, having convinced himself.
For a moment her rapidly beating heart feels like stopping from hearing these three words come from his mouth, but then she reminds herself that he probably still means it only as proof of his brotherly love.
"I love you too," her lips curve into a smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes and he's fast to notice.
"No."
(y/n) frowns, confused as to why he just said that.
"I love you. Like love love," Bill tries again, watching her face intently to catch the moment she understands what he means.
The thoughts spin in her mind, trying hard to make the words make sense. "You do?" The question leaves her lips in the end – and Bill's not satisfied at all with the doubt still filling her voice. It's fair to say he didn't quite expect this moment to go like this.
"Yeah," he nods, a little too vigorous and enthusiastic to his own liking, but at this point he just wants to make her believe him.
(y/n) bursts out giggling and his eyes widen in surprise. Is the idea of him loving her so ridiculous that she has to laugh about it?
"I-I'm so-sorry," she stutters in-between giggles as she tries to catch her breath, still looking up at him from her lying position. "I just didn't expect to hear this, at all."
"Oh," Bill replies, the confusion that has previously been written on her face now apparent on his own.
"I love you too, don't look so scared," (y/n) grins widely, then as she sees him open his lips, she foregoes and answers the question she knows he wants to ask. "Yes, love love."
The grin forming on his lips matches hers in width and within a second he's leaning down, only stopping a finger-breadth away from her face.
"I've been waiting for so long to do this," he mumbles.
"I bet I've been waiting even longer for you to do this," she whispers back.
Then his lips finally touch hers, gentle and feather-like until he feels her kiss him back with more passion – after that, he deepens the kiss himself. He feels that there's no need to restrain himself when for the past year all he's wanted to do was this, all he needed was her permission.
And the taste and softness of her lips along with the way it feels as they move along his are even better than in his dreams.
my masterlist | my hbo war masterlist
.::the end::.
and here's a little extra gift because i felt like making a moodboard:
taglist: @50svibes @neverendingstories00 @mads-weasley @now-im-a-belieber
[ do you wanna be added to my taglist? ]
#hbowarsanta21#hbo war secret santa#bill hoosier smith#hoosier smith x reader#hoosier smith imagine#hoosier smith fanfic#hoosier smith x you#jacob pitts#the pacific#the pacific imagine#the pacific fanfic#the pacific x reader#hbo war#hbo war fanfic#hbo war x reader#hbo war imagine#h company#h company imagine#h company fanfic#the pacific h company#x reader#reader insert#x y/n#fanfic#imagine#fanfiction#masterlist
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it doesn't matter ~ bill 'hoosier' smith (the pacific)
my masterlist | my hbo war masterlist
pairing: bill 'hoosier' smith x female reader
request: "heyy, i just stumbled upon your blog, and it honestly made me so happyyy!!! i was wondering if you could do me either a lieb or a hoosier smith imagine (i love them both so much, so either one is okay!) and could you maybe do either a pregnancy one or maybe a proposal? preferably pregnancy, but i don't mind too much either way! last thing, just wanted to let you know that you are amazingly talented, and i wish i could write the way you do! ❤️" ~ @whoahersheybars
summary: bill bumps into a girl on the streets of melbourne, sending her and all her belongings flying to the ground. neither would think in that very moment that in only a couple years, they'll be over several unexpected turns, with the involvement of hundreds if not thousands of letters written and even a war bride ship.
words: 3.6K
a/n: thank you for the request, lovely! i hope you'll like this one! i've never written with anyone from the pacific before so it's a first and i'm a tiny bit anxious.
this includes a few time jumps, i didn't want to end up writing a fic that's too long for my liking, i hope nobody minds.
sometimes i wish i could write accents in my fics, but sadly english not being my first language puts me into enough stress without having to worry about accents too :((
taglist: @mads-weasley @neverendingstories00
"Oh, damn!" (y/n) grunts as she registers that everything from her paper bag has scattered on the ground. She swiftly pushes herself up onto her knees from her sitting position and scrambles closer to grab the newly bought food - at least what could still be saved.
Out of nowhere a hand holding an apple appears in front of her eyes. "I'm utterly sorry, miss." She looks up to see a young man towering over her with an overly apologetic look in his eyes. Taking in his American uniform and thinking back to what he said, with flashbacks of the previous minutes in front of her inner eyes - it suddenly becomes obvious it was this man in particular she bumped into in the corner, the one that sent her flying to the ground, throwing the paper bag in the air.
"Can I pay you back in any way?" He continues as she reaches up to grab the fruit from his hand and lets it fall back into the bag - that's much emptier now, with most of the contents previously landing in the dirt.
(y/n) blinks once or twice, still trying hard to let her mind catch up to what just happened. Maybe she hit her head. Just in time with her thought, the marine leans further down to get a better look in her eyes. "Did you hit your head, miss?"
Thinking back to what happened, she frowns and shakes her head. She has no memory of that, she just simply sat down on the asphalt. Well, maybe a bit harsher than just sit down, because it was more of a fast and ungracious fall.
The man reaches out once more, this time with his palm open and facing up, offering a hand for her to get up. She takes it, but by the time her mind even processed the thought of standing up, he pulled her up with such strength that she loses her balance immediately and comes flying into his chest. He grabs her elbow with his other hand and holds her tight and steady until he makes totally sure that she's secure on her own two legs.
With not at all lady-like movements she swiftly dusts off her clothes, taking a second glance to see she's got the most, then her head rises again until their eyes connect. What she finds in his almost grey but still blue orbs surprises her. It's an incredible amount of honest worry with which he's staring at her.
"I'm okay, thank you," she smiles up at him and a couple seconds of seemingly being completely frozen later he swings into action and as if he's touched fire, he lets go of both her elbow and hand, then takes a small step back to create a bit more space - just as it's ethical. "And you don't have to pay me back, I ran into you just as much as you ran into me."
"At least let me buy you a coffee, then," he insists, the worry in his eyes switching to some form of regret. "Please."
"Fine."
A small smile makes its way onto his face, then as if suddenly realising something, he straightens his posture and holds out his hand, once more. "I'm Bill, by the way. Bill Smith."
"(y/n) (y/l/n)," she takes his hand and gives it a firm shake - one that obviously surprises him from the slight raise of one of his eyebrows. It's nothing she's not already used to, though. Ever since she was a kid, she kept on surprising people - mainly men - with her strength. It's pretty unusual coming from a young girl. Advantage of growing up on a farm with only your father and older brother around.
"Uhm, can you suggest a café though?" Bill scratches the back of his neck, cheeks turning lightly pink. "I'm not at all familiar with Melbourne yet."
The girl giggles and places the paper bag under her arm whilst pretending to think. "I don't really like coffee that much, actually," she ponders out loud, then just as his face slightly falls and his lips open to protest in a bit of disappointment, she continues with a cheeky grin. "How about something with alcohol in it instead?"
For a second he thought he didn't hear it right. She couldn't have said that, right? But looking in her playfully shining eyes and seeing the grin playing on her lips, he knows that she's said just that.
"I happen to know a pretty good bar not far from here," (y/n) adds.
"Okay," Bill gives his answer - probably a bit faster than he's supposed to, faster than it's morally conventional, but before he can feel embarrassed again, an angelic laugh leaves her lips and suddenly all he feels is that it was more than worth it.
The walk to the bar starts in silence, just the two of them moving without a single word - both trying to understand the weird feeling tingling in their bodies. Then (y/n) breaks the quiet, deciding that if she's really going to have a drink or two now with a total stranger, then at least know a little bit about each other before getting to it.
"I'm not that familiar with Melbourne, either, actually."
"Yeah?" The marine glances at her for a short moment before his eyes return to the ground below them.
"Yeah. All my life I've been living in the countryside, on a farm. I only left a few months prior. Because my pa didn't want a young woman like me to live there on my own."
Why is she about to tell this man all about her life, her past? What is it about him that makes her feel so comfortable as if she knew him for weeks, months, or hell, even years, and not fifteen minutes in total? She can't quite define, but it's definitely there.
"On your own?"
"Yeah, both he and my brother have enlisted," she shrugs. "My mom's long gone, didn't even know her really."
What? Stop!, she mentally slaps herself. Why is she being so depressing now?
"Enough about me. Tell me about yourself, Bill Smith."
He grins at her use of his full name, then reaches up with one hand to scratch at the back of his neck, looking at his feet in the process.
"I'm from Loogootee, Indiana," he speaks up, then pauses. Suddenly he doesn't know what to say.
(y/n) glances at him from the side, raising an eyebrow as if to question why he stopped so soon. Bill takes a breath, quickly thinking about things he could talk about that might sound interesting and appealing to the Aussie girl.
In the end his attempts seem successful as she giggles every once in a while listening to his stories, sometimes adding one of her own that resembles his. The walk to the bar goes by fast and in absolute conviviality.
About an hour later they're sitting in a booth, the paper bag gently pressing against her leg as she's trying to prevent it being stolen or left there without her paying full attention to it. Three empty glasses and one about half full sits between them on top of the table.
They're just laughing away at something Bill said when three figures enter their field of vision, casting a kind of shadow on the table and the two of them. With a slow movement of their heads they both look at the newly arrived - (y/n) doesn't get any more clever about who they might be at first glance, but Bill's eyes lighten up as they take in the three men.
By their American marine uniform - similar if not the same as Bill's - she figures they're probably his comrades in the Marine Corps, the ones he already told many stories about.
"Hoosier, is that really you with this lovely lady right here or do my eyes mislead me?" One of them leans closer with a loud chuckle erupting from his throat.
Hoosier. What is a hoosier?, she wonders in her head.
Another one slaps Bill in the shoulder in a playful way, sending a wink his way, then all three of them start laughing - so loud that it causes many people glancing in their direction from all across the large room, no matter the otherwise already almost deafening noise.
"(y/n), excuse my friends for acting like a group of lunatics," Bill looks back towards her, his cheeks the colour of a light red rose - is it because of the drinks he's had or because of his friends?
"Oh yes, I'm sorry about that, miss," the one standing the closest to her pretends to slap himself in the forehead with a look of regret on his face before placing his palm on top of his chest, facial expression turning serious. "I'm Robert Leckie. And let me introduce you these two gentlemen I arrived with. Wilbur Conley and Lewis Juergens."
"(y/n) (y/l/n)," she nods with a small smile.
"You know my first name, Leckie?" One of the other two lets out a chuckle - the one who nodded and waved a little after the name Lewis was announced. "Now that's a surprise."
"Of course I do," the questioned one, Leckie rolls his eyes in response.
"Why, what are you called amongst the marines then?" (y/n) chimes in with true curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
"I'm Chuckler, he's Runner, and Bill over there is Hoosier."
"And he's Peaches," Conley - or should she say Runner? - adds swiftly, earning a slap to the back of his head from Leckie.
(y/n) watches them interact with a smile on her face, wondering about what the origin of these nicknames could be, then turns to Bill with the smile turning into a playful grin. "Hoosier?"
"Yeah," he grins right back.
"Okay we're leaving you two lovebirds alone now, just wanted to make sure it's truly you," Leckie straightens up. "I'll see you around, Bill, and it was lovely to meet you, (y/n)," he looks at them one by one.
"Vice versa," the girl smiles up at him, then the three marines bid farewell and walk away. "They seem nice," she says to Bill who gives her an appreciative smile back.
- - - - - - about four months later - - - - - - - -
Her fingernails drum a fast rhythm on the table of the small diner impatiently, her eyes never leaving the entrance. Where is he and why is he late? With a slightly shaky hand she raises the glass in front of her and she takes a large sip, swirling the liquid around with her tongue to enjoy the taste better.
After the drink is safely put back down on the table, she cards her fingers through her hair then leans her face in her palms, rubbing the skin under her finger pads in nervosity. She didn't even hear the door open or feet aproaching, but the next moment a hurried, quiet voice speaks up next to her. "I'm sorry I'm late."
"It's okay," she smiles at Bill, but it doesn't reach her eyes.
"What's wrong?" Hoosier slips onto the chair opposing her, a worried glint appearing in his eyes.
He knows her too well, he does from about a month after their first meeting.
"We have to talk."
He frowns, leaning closer to her with his elbows resting on the wooden surface between them, then just looks at her, waiting for her to continue.
"I think I'm pregnant," (y/n) announces. What would be the point in beating around the bush? It's easier just to say it as it is.
Bill visibly gulps, his eyes widening a bit. About a minute passes with the two of them just staring in each other's eyes before he speaks up - his voice somewhat hoarse. "You think?"
"Yeah," she looks away, fingers fidgeting. "I'm not entirely sure, but there's a chance I'm right."
"Uhm," the young marine starts speaking but immediately his voice fades and he just clears his throat to avoid being completely silent. What should he say? He has no idea. He doesn't even know what he feels at the moment.
"I understand if this is too much for you," (y/n) swiftly interrupts his thinking. "I mean, we're young and only know each other for a couple months and obviously we're not married. You're American and I'm Australian. We live on the two opposite sides of the world. I understand if you're not ready for a kid yet or don't want to have one in these circumstances."
"What are you saying?" Bill tilts his head in question, eyebrows moving into a frown.
She takes a deep breath, averting her eyes from his and glancing at her nervously moving fingers instead before answering his question. "That even if I'm actually with child, you can forget about the whole situation. I'm keeping it, but you don't have to."
A sharp hiss leaves his lips by her suggestion. "No," it's all he says, making her raise her glance back up to him in surprise.
"No?" (y/n) breathes out a couple seconds later.
"No," he repeats, shaking his head fiercely. "I'm not leaving you alone when you're pregnant with my kid."
"But we didn't want it."
"I know. It doesn't matter."
His lips slowly curve into a smile and she lets out a small gasp. Tears blur her vision as she starts laughing in relief.
"Are you sure?" She manages to get the words out through her sounds of happiness.
"Yes, (y/n), I am," Hoosier reaches out for her hand still laying on the table and takes it into his own, giving it a gentle squeeze as he joins her laughter. "We made a new form of life, can you believe it?"
"Don't forget about how I might not be pregnant."
"Okay, okay. Let's wait with this until we can be entirely sure, yeah?"
(y/n) nods in agreement and so he seamlessly changes the subject.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"You know, we should get married," Bill breaks the comfortable silence as they're having an impromptu picnic in the park, (y/n) laying down with her head in his lap, his hand gently resting on the tiny bump of her stomach. "Before I leave again, I mean."
A giggle leaves her throat as she looks up at him in blissful disbelief.
"It's a bit fast, I know, but I think we kinda already crossed that line when getting pregnant," he shrugs.
"Wouldn't it be weird to do it without our families even knowing about us planning it?"
"It might be."
A couple minutes pass in quiet as they're both thinking about his proposition, and it's him to break it again, his voice fainter than before. "I'm not stupid and I'm not living in denial. I know there's a huge chance that I'm not coming out of this alive. And I want to support you and my child even if I'm not around. Marriage is my only chance to do it."
(y/n)'s speechless - she hasn't expected such a heart-clenching turn in the mood. But to her own sadness, she has to agree with what he said - all the while she can't help but feel a little flutter in her heart seeing him wanting to help her and the yet unborn baby out so bad.
"So what do you say?" Hoosier asks after waiting another minute or two.
"That you could've thought of a more romantic proposal," she giggles - if nothing more, this can be a lightening to the seriousness of the moment.
Bill shakes his head and rolls his eyes but lets out a chuckle himself.
"We could get married. If that's what you really want," (y/n) adds on a more severe note, resting a hand on top of his.
"Are you free tomorrow?" Now it's his turn to joke - but the honesty shining in his eyes lets her know that he half means it.
A wide, happy smile makes its way onto her face and her head moves in a simple nod.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Dear Bill,
I'm delighted to announce that I've given birth to a healthy, beautiful baby daughter. I'm sorry you couldn't have been here. I'm sure you would've loved to be the first one to take her in your hands - I'd have loved that too.
I hope this letter of mine still finds you unscathed, wherever you might be. Oh, how I wish this war would end soon.
I'm still debating what her name should be - I know, I'm so terribly indecisive. You agreeing to give her my mother's name in her memory seems to not have been enough to convince me fully. The nurses gave me a day to decide, so I hope I'll dream the perfect choice in my sleep.
Must be crazy to think you're a father now. It is quite unbelievable for me still, being a mom. The word makes it sound frightful, with all the responsibility to look after another human being.
I can't wait to hear from and one day even see you again. Take care of yourself, Bill.
With love,
your (y/n) Smith"
This is the letter that keeps him going in Cape Gloucester. He tries to keep it as dry as possible, no matter how much it seems like the raining is never going to stop again.
This is the letter that gets joined by a couple others including the one in which (y/n) lets him know of the baby's final name - Margaret Helen Smith, after the two grandmothers and with his last name which makes him an ounce happier even with the circumstances he gets the news in -, or the one in which she's sent him a photo of their child and herself - his most treasured belonging for the time being.
These are the letters that leave him wordlessly praying when they announce the lottery to win a ticket home in Pavuvu. He doesn't win, but at least whilst staying on the humid, gruesome island they get and can send letters more often.
Then the absence of letters from him is what wakes the almost unbearable worry in her. First it doesn't matter, it has happened that letters arrived more rarely. But then it becomes two months, three months, more and there's still no word from him.
The worst thought nestles in her mind, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't close it out. Taking care of her baby keeps her busy throughout most of the days and even parts of the nights, but she still has lonely moments when the silence and emptiness of the small apartment makes it too difficult to just get past the negativity.
Hope slowly starts to fade - until a few days from Margaret's first birthday in December she gets a letter. From him. Turns out he wasn't killed in action. He got hit when a mortar exploded close to him and he was then transferred back to the US. It's a bit hard to think about how far they are from each other, but the thought that he's still alive makes everything bearable - she feels like she could wait for any time now, as long as his condition truly stays as it is.
The rest of the war passes by with nothing but letters exchanged - with her telling him all about the things baby Maggie does and him telling her about his healing, his family, and then eventually when he leaves the hospital how he's found the perfect house for them and how he started working.
Late 1945, close to their child's second birthday, Bill tells her about a war bride ship that he heard of from another wounded soldier he travelled back to America and still keeps in touch with. He proposes her leaving with the first one - he even offers help with organising the trip. Only if you want to, of course, he writes.
In March, 1946 she says goodbye to everything she's ever known, packs her life and with her kid in her arms boards the ship that will eventually take her to her husband.
It takes six weeks for the ship to arrive to the United States, and being so impatient it feels like forever for her. Hoosier feels a very similar way, knowing that he's missing out on his baby's first years - with every day that passes she's growing up more and more without her father around.
As all the women aboard start descending from the ship and stand on American ground, chaos soon takes over the port - too many people waiting to pick up their already or just soon to be wives and too many people arriving with the ship.
Anxiety fills her whole existence as her eyes travel along the sea of people, desperately searching for Bill as Margaret cries in her arm, frightened by the loud noise and large crowd. What feels like the middle of the great masses of people she stops, slowly turning around, examining all the faces getting in her gaze's way.
Her breathing quickens and all of a sudden she feels stupid for travelling all across the world for what? A man she's not seen for two and a half years now?
Just as this thought enters her mind, the crowd slightly parts and as if sent from the angels above, a familiar figure enters her vision. Leaving her suitcase right there on the ground without a care in the world she sets off in as fast of a run she can manage with a two-year-old sitting on her arm and so many people in the way, and she flies into his embrace.
"Bill," his name leaves her lips in a relieved whisper, almost inaudible in the noise.
Despite never leaving Australia in her entire life before that one time six weeks ago, now, arriving to unfamiliar shores, into the arms of the man she grew to love in such a short time, the man whose child she's given birth to two years ago, she feels like coming home.
.::the end::.
#bill hoosier smith#hoosier smith x reader#hoosier smith imagine#hoosier smith fanfic#hoosier smith x you#jacob pitts#the pacific#the pacific imagine#the pacific fanfic#the pacific x reader#hbo war#hbo war fanfic#hbo war x reader#hbo war imagine#h company#h company imagine#h company fanfic#the pacific h company#x reader#reader insert#x y/n#fanfic#imagine#fanfiction#masterlist#requested
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Happy blog anniversary!! ❤️
I’d like to request 🌧 + Hoosier please!
Thank you Amy ! 🥰💕 I hope you'll like this ❤
The pouring rain on your window was like a drum, lulling you back to sleep despite having been the reason why you woke up in the first place. Shifting until you were on your back, you tried not to wake the still sleeping form beside you. Hoosier was in a deep slumber, you could tell from the soft little snores coming out of his mouth as he huddled closer to you, probably looking for warmth, his hair tickling your neck.
You kept shifting and turning for several minutes, your mind whirling no matter how much the sound of the rain was soothing your nerves. Finally, once you had enough and were convinced that if you shifted one more time you’d wake Hoosier up, you sat quietly and let your feet hover on the floor as you rubbed sleep from your eyes. Starting to get up in slow movements, a sigh escaped your lips when you felt an arm wrap itself around waist, bringing you half on the bed and half on Hoosier.
“What’re ya doin’ ?” Sighing quietly through your nose, you passed a hand in Hoosier’s soft bed-hair, knowing how relaxing it was to him.
“I need to do some work.” You had kept your voice low and the calm atmosphere set by the rain was undisturbed. The man behind you groaned and tightened his grip on you, making sure you wouldn’t go anywhere.
“Five more minutes.” A smile crept its way onto your face.
“You know, it’s not because I get up that you have to as well.” You chuckled as you felt him shake his head behind you.
“Stay.” Almost hearing his pout made you cave in and you felt him smile in your neck once he realized you’d relaxed back against his chest.
“Five more minutes.” You murmured, pulling the blanket back on you, even though your eyes were already closing and Hoosier already asleep. The rain would fall for much longer than five minutes but when you were in Hoosier’s arms, surrounded in warmth, who were you to count the minutes passing ?
@murphyism @mavysnavy @justwant-samu-ass @order-of-river-phoenix @inglourious-imagines @liebegott @tvserie-s-world @stressedinadress @warrior-healer @punkgeekcryptid
#the pacific x reader#the pacific imagine#bill hoosier smith x reader#hoosier smith imagine#stressedidnadress#2 year anniversary#ask
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Hoosier Dating an Extrovert Headcannons
Bill "Hoosier" Smith x Extrovert!Reader
Masterlist
A/N: I'm currently obsessed with Jacob Pitts...so you're welcome :) this is about the fictional portrayal of H company boys on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!
You and Bill get along from the beginning, and y'all are the epitome of the grump x sunshine trope!!
Sarcasm and your endless optimism go perfectly together, even if no one fully comprehends it.
Where Bill sits and observes most of the time, you never seem to tire from the excitement, telling him about every second of your day with a bright smile on your face.
He won't admit it, but he finds it incredibly adorable.
When things slow down at night and you're sitting in your foxhole, you two often find yourselves talking about everything from back home to the future.
In the quiet when it's just the two of you, Bill seems to stray away from his usual snarky and blunt attitude for one that's much softer. If Leckie or Runner ever got wind of it, he knows he'll never hear the end of it.
You slowly pick up on some of his traits, your own sarcastic and witty side becoming more prominent. Of course, Bill notices and he feels a sense of pride knowing that he's influenced you...and he teases you relentlessly.
"Now, who'd you get that fine sense of humor from?" he asks you, a smirk adorning his lips.
You just roll your eyes. "Definitely not you, honey. You're not as funny as you think."
The teasing NEVER ends, and the H company guys all love the two of you, so they go along with it.
When the terrible shelling on Guadalcanal started, you happened to be on your way back from the bathroom, so you sprinted towards the first hole you saw.
The men inside were calling for you, and right as you were about to slide in, it was hit with a shell, throwing you onto your back. Seeing the horrific remains of the men inside tore at your insides, and you froze. A second later, you snapped out of it and ran to the next hole over, which happened to be your hole with the boys.
You slide into the hole, and someone grabs you and holds you to their chest. It doesn't take long for you to realize it's Bill. He's got you in one arm and a whimpering dog in the other.
He was going insane not knowing where you were, and having you in his arms calms his nerves slightly despite the bombardment happening around you.
The next morning, he holds your shaking form (wrapped in his *signature* blanket) tightly as you sit outside your hole, staring numbly at the ground ahead of you. From then on, you seem to be more reserved...more quiet, and it worries him and the guys to death.
Whenever things got rough, they (especially bill) always knew you to be the one happy thing in their life (not that you didn't make them happy still ofc, but seeing you so shaken hurt them).
He does anything and everything to make you smile, laugh, and seem like your old self again. You never tell him exactly what happened, but it doesn't take much for him to imagine something along those lines.
You know those little habits that you picked up from Bill? Well, he picked some up from you, too, and he finds himself having a more energetic and extroverted attitude while he's trying to be there for you, cheering you up to the best of his ability.
Slowly, with Bill and the other guy's help, things get better, and you become more like yourself again. Although he's overjoyed that you're back to your bubbly and extroverted self, he's soooo relieved that he doesn't have to pick up the slack on that front...because it is exhausting for him to act like that. He'll leave that to you!
Tag List: @footprintsinthesxnd
#hbo war#the pacific imagine#the pacific imagines#the pacific#the pacific x reader#bill hoosier smith imagines#bill hoosier smith x reader#bill smith#bill hoosier smith#the pacific headcannons#bill smith headcannons#hoosier smith headcannon#hoosier headcannon
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Picture ~ Hoosier Smith
A/N: This is for @inglourious-imagines writing challenge, absolutely check out anything else written for it (the pieces I've read so far have been wonderful!) and maybe even take part yourself! Here's a little snippet into downtime with H company, enjoy :)
Warnings: smoking
Summary: Leckie's sister sent him a picture of them both, and Hoosier is intruiged...
5. If I ever see you anywhere near him/her/them, you'll have to deal with me.
Down time away from battle was both rare and well-received amongst the men on the island. A minute or two to catch their breath, have a cigarette, take in the yellow sky beside the sea, reload their weapons. It was just as much useful as it was needed.
Days when the Captains knew the fighting would hold off for longer were the days letters got passed around. Small reminders from family about the reasons to fight and the love they have waiting for them back home.
Leckie had been lucky enough to hear from you this time around. His darling sister. The only person who wasn't working in writing that he thought should be. You always had a natural nick for words and he truly enjoyed reading your letters whenever they came.
This time, however, the envelope held an extra piece of luxury. Black and white and bent on one corner, was a picture of the two of you, dressed nicely for summer and stood smiling outside a restaurant you had just shared lunch in. Down toward the end of the letter, you wrote about finding it in a shoebox in your mother's closet whilst redecorating her bedroom, along with the promise of taking him to that restaurant again as soon as he comes back, so he can get another taste of that scrumptious lemon tart he'd gone so long without.
When he finished reading your letter, he just looked at the picture again, fiddling with the bent corner until he noticed the writing on the back: "For when you need a little happiness." A small smile formed on his face at this as he flipped the card around to see you again. His relationship with his parents was termultuous, his father especially, but he's always loved you to the moon and back. His sister was really special to him and alongside Vera, you were the person helping him to keep fighting every time he woke up. This picture was going to stay close to him from now on.
" 'kay Leckie, you go."
He looked up at the group and the smile fell from his face. He'd been so busy thinking about seeing you again that he'd pretty much forgotten where he was, and he'd definitely forgotten the group of boys around him. He cleared his throat and looked back down at the picture. "It's from my sister." He began smiling again but rolled his eyes at the low whistles sounding in the hot air.
"Oh, you should not have told us that, man." Runner laughed and Chuckler broke into a huge grin, leaning over Leckie's right shoulder to peek at what the photograph entailed.
"I didn't know you had a sister?" Hoosier's deep voice said, confused as he released a breath of smoke. Leckie huffed and closed his lips tight. Reluctantly picking up the picture you sent, praying thanks to god that you had it laminated, he twisted it round for Hoosier to see. Runner leant over to try and catch a glimpse but didn't get much of a look in before Hoosier had grabbed it to inspect Leckie's sister properly.
"It's from summer a few years back. Says she'll take me there again when she can," Leckie grinned to himself whilst he skimmed over the last part of the letter he had missed before, "and that she'll introduce me to her new friend to talk to as well." He raised his eyebrows and shook his head a little with a quiet laugh. Runner whistled, shaking his own head and muttering "Good for some, huh?" to no one in particular. You didn't know your brother had a thing for Vera Keller, actually he couldn't be sure you even knew he'd spoken to her before. He supposes he'll keep that to himself before you start meddling without him in town to repair the damage.
Chuckler's large hand meets Leckie's shoulder and squeezes it. "That sounds nice." He smiles kindly and offers him a cigarette which Leckie takes with a nod.
Hoosier is still deeply inspecting the picture of you both, eyebrows pressed together as he takes you in. Turning it round incase there was a message on the back, just like his mother did to her photographs, he finds your hidden message and smirks a little. It was a sign of a sweet woman, he'd been told. Well, he hoped so, because you sure looked like one.
His eyebrows furrow together again in thought when he brushes a dot of dirt off your face with his thumb, until a quiet washes over the group. "I think I should write to your sister, Leckie." He spoke, not moving his eyes off the picture. Leckie's head whips to Hoosier and it adamantly shakes side to side, a breathy laugh following. "Absolutely not."
There was always teasing like that with other soldier's family members but Leckie couldn't even play along when it came to his sister, especially not with the boys in his company. He'd seen what they were like when left to their own resources. You were far too good to have to deal with any of them.
Hoosier looked up at Leckie and, despite his seriousness, had to hide the grin working it's way onto his face. "She seems like the perfect woman to me."
"You don't even know her." Leckie bit back, taking a drag of his cigarette.
Hoosier shrugged and calmly turned his eyes back to the picture in his hand. "Well maybe she could take me to this restaurant and I get to know her, she looks lovely." Hoosier was speaking earnestly but, around marines, talk like that was nothing but jokes and Leckie didn't want it.
Runner's bright grin as he watched his friend had Leckie taking action to stop it as soon as possible. "No." Leckie deadpanned at Hoosier's suggestion. Hoosier jutted his hands out and frowned, watching Runner opposite him in the circle, silently asking why he wasn't allowed. The fact he genuinely cared was lost on Leckie, who had heard it all before from Hoosier about Chuckler's sister not too long ago.
Leckie took the opportunity to grab the picture back from him which put Hoosier's eyes on his friend like a hawk. Leckie tucked the picture under the letter on his lap then leant his elbows on his knees, pointing a cigarette-clad hand Hoosier's way. "If I ever see you anywhere near her, you'll have to deal with me." Leckie threatened, fully serious in his words.
But Hoosier's chuckle had Leckie smirking before smoking again. "I'd like to see you do that, truly." Runner and Chuckler were laughing at Hoosier's words now and Leckie was trying hard not to join in, but there was no use, he just chuckled along with them behind his hand.
Sid traipsed over and dropped down on the other side of Hoosier with an envelope of his own in his hands. Hoosier just leant closer to Leckie and spoke again, making sure he knew he was trying to be as authentic as he could. "You know you should at least give me her adress so I can write her a letter," his sincere voice had Leckie raising his eyebrows a little as he blew the smoke in his mouth out to the side, questioning whether he actually should consider it, until, "do you think she'd give me a picture?"
Nevermind.
Leckie shoved Hoosier away from him, shaking his head, no sign of enthusiasm in him at all. Hoosier just looked confused at Runner for the second time. The smaller man just laughed away, his bright eyes shining joy at the utter loss on Hoosier's face. "It was a genuine question..." he mumbled but wasn't heard over Chuckler inviting Sid to share with the group what he had gotten. Runner shrugged at Hoosier before turning his attention to Sid, his smile fading to make way for his new curiosity.
Hoosier just smoked, not really caring about Sid's family life at the moment. He couldn't help himself stealing glances over at Leckie as they all listened to Sid's letter, wondering if he'd be able to sneak a bit more time with the picture or to read the letter you'd written.
Thing is, Hoosier did joke a lot about that sort of stuff, but there was seriously something about that photograph that had his brain ticking, working to find a way to talk to you. It would be nice to have someone send him letters beside his own mother, that's for sure. And now that he knew the challenge of getting past stone-faced Leckie existed, he was going try as hard as he could, be persistent every day, to get that address and have that lunch with you some time in the future.
#inglourious1kwritingchallenge#hoosier smith#hoosier smith imagine#hoosier smith x reader#the pacific#the pacific imagine#robert leckie#runner conley#chuckler juergens#oneshot#my fic#my og post
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Hey, uhh, how do you feel about hurting my feelings w some unrequited love for one Hoosier Smith?
A/N: I feel pretty good about it, Mariah. 0 fluff here.
Also, we have to tag @alienoresimagines for 1. this incredible idea and 2. you can’t have a Hoosier fic and not dedicate it to her so here ya go! ❤️
Word count: 688
Taglist: @adamantiumdragonfly @punkgeekchic @thatsonefishyboi @raven-has-no-gender2272 @immrsronaldspeirs @inglourious-imagines @legendarics @prvtbullshit @noneofurbusinez @band-of-bitches @alienoresimagines @murphyism @we-always-hit-our-ass @lovingunderratedcharacters @fromtheoldtimes @stressedinadress
In death, do us part
Bill had a smile on his face as he headed up to your house, he took a three hour train ride to see you. He had been sent home on account of his injury in the war, but you swore you would make it out alive for him. You told him that no matter what, you would be there in you house waiting for him.
The first thing he did when he got home, was think about all the dates he wanted to go on with you. How much he wanted to do cheesy couple stuff with you because you wanted to. He was excited to bring you to Sam’s Diner, to the park he played at as a kid, to meet his family.
Hoosier thanked the taxi cab driver and quickly walked to the porch of your house, the lightbulb was flickering and needed a change and the neighbors cat walked by Hoosier, almost as if glad there wasn’t any crying like there had been the last few days. Bill knocked twice on the white, paint chipped door as he fiddled with the bouquet of flowers in his hand for you and smoothed his jacket down. Much like you always smoothed his trousers and wrinkled shirt down during the war.
He saw an elderly man, most likely your father, open the door. His eyes were bloodshot and red and it looked like this man hadn’t shaved in a while. “Yes?” The hoarse voice said.
“I.. I’m Bill Smith. Y/N’s boyfriend? This is the right house, isn’t it?”
When your mother heard the sound of Bill Smith, she walked over to the door. Wiping her hands on the towel and threw it on the couch, carelessly. She too had bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. “Did you not hear?”
Hoosier swallowed and shook his head slowly. Your mother brought him in and sat him down in the dining room, he set the flowers on the table next to him “Is Y/N home?”
Your father sat down, across from him at the table and handed him a cup of coffee. Hoosier held it in his hand, if your parents weren’t telling him where you were he was bound to be nervous. Your mother stood behind your fathers chair “Y/N is gone”
The knots twisted in his stomach, hoping she meant from the household and you were still alive. Waiting for him in the loveseat you described wanting. The one he was going to buy for you. “She passed away a few days ago, grenade accident”
The mug in Hoosiers hand dropped, and it was shattered all across the floor. Your mother rushed to his side, to comfort and hug him but he pushed her away. Like a drunk man, he stumbled out the door. Your father calling out that he was unable to go home alone.
The sobs came out of his body all at once and he dropped to the ground on his knees
You promised he thought you promised to come home to me, you promised we were going to live happily together.
He punched the sidewalk until his hand was bleeding and he couldn’t feel it anymore. You lied to him. You swore on your entire life you would be there with him.
The hours later when he arrived home, drunker than ever only made him remember that you could’ve been there to take care of him. He poured yet another glass of bourbon and fell onto his bed, staring at the ceiling and the tears forming in his eyes.
He wanted to go to your grave and yell at you for leaving him. He wanted to hold you and run his fingers down your ticklish sides just to hear the angelic laugh and smile on your face. He wanted to drink himself to sleep until he couldn’t feel a thing anymore.
He settled for option three and his vision became blurry as he thought that he couldn’t bare to live without you. Maybe he wouldn’t need to live to be with you
If he tried hard enough, he could be with you in an afterlife.
#the pacific headcanons#the pacific#the pacific x reader#the pacific imagine#bill hoosier headcanons#bill hoosier smith x reader#bill hoosier smith imagine#hoosier x reader#hoosier headcanons#hoosier imagine#hoosier smith headcanons#hoosier smith imagine#hoosier smith x reader
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Shirt Incident
William Hoosier Smith x GN!Reader
Requested by: @alienoresimagines - Could you write 105. Is that my shirt? with the love of my life Hoosier Smith and a gender neutral reader if that isn't too much of a bother please? ❤ As always, completely okay not to write it! 💛
Warnings: smoking, war, some f words
Prompt: Is that my shirt?
Summary: It is said among the Marines that Hoosier has a crush on you. You decide to test the theory.
Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox @order-of-river-phoenix @whoahersheybars
.
.
.
The weather was slowly beginning to be absolutely unbearable. There probably wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t covered in sweat. Your mind was clouded by the thought of the cooling ocean that could provide at least a temporary relief from the never-ending heat. You most probably would be in the water already if you were actually back home in the States but the heavy Thompson on your shoulder was constantly reminding you otherwise, that you were still very much in the middle of the Pacific killing for peace.
Well, that and the constantly annoyed voice of Chuckler who complained about the weather three times minimum every five minutes. At least you suffered in silence.
“No need to point out our miserable conditions anymore, Chuckler,” you finally snapped but your voice had a bit of a playful tone into it, so your friend knew it’s nothing personal. You all were in a crappy mood, feeling horrible.
“Hoosier looked way too comfortable over there,” Chucker grinned at you, “simply had to remind him what a wonderful situation we find ourselves in.”
Hoosier shot him a fake smile in response and then got back to his cigarette. Even he was too tired to actually think of some sarcastic remark to retort with.
You shook your head, laughing. “Maybe you need to remind him some more.”
Runner next to you leaned back in laughter, always enjoying when you teased the poor man from Indiana, Loogootee. Which you did quite often. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you enjoyed teasing Hoosier more than you probably should and from a whole lot different reason than Runner.
Chuckler nodded in anticipation. “Maybe we should take our shirts off, what do you say, Y/N?”
His words took you by surprise – you almost choked on your own cigarette – as he took it to a completely new level.
“God, Juergens,” Leckie joined, his typical smirk lightening up his tired face, “no one wants to see that. Unless Y/N really joins in so then I’ll have something to focus on.”
Your cheeks blushed at Bob’s comment as you just rolled your eyes to appear not so flattered by his words. You knew perfectly well why the boys were being so flirtatious all of a sudden. Leckie about a week ago pointed out to you so convincingly that Hoosier has this enormous crush on you. At first, you began to laugh hysterically, thinking it was one of Bob’s classic jokes but when his face remained serious, you gave him a funny look.
“Hoosier? The Hoosier? On me? Bob, the heat is making you imagine things.”
But he simply just shook his head, his voice perfectly calm and quite convincing. “Y/N, I might be a bit stupid sometimes but I’m not blind. And given the fact that we’re in the middle of this fucking war, I think it’d just be nice to have someone by your side.”
You never heard Robert Leckie sound so serious and sincere before.
“I have you guys,” you tried to discourage him once more from his theory, which was actually more of a fact, but you hadn’t known that yet. He patted your shoulder and with a quick ‘think about it’ he disappeared from your sight, his words still echoing in your head.
That was seven days ago.
Leckie must had made a pact with Runner, or so you thought, because he approached you three days ago at lunch and the conversation was pretty much the same one like you had with Bob. Apparently, there was even a bet in the company on what’s going to happen first: Hooser finally making a move or you actually realizing the real deal.
“The whole fucking company?” you exclaimed once Runner finished justifying his and Bob’s theory.
“Yep!” he grinned, “even the officers.”
“Oh God,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.
***
Ever since those two encounters, there was almost nothing else on your mind than Hoosier. You were seeing his stupid face everywhere. What had happened to you? A week ago, you were okay, and Hoosier was just a fellow soldier. Now he was Hoosier.
Damn Bob and Runner, you were sure that this change in thinking was their intention all along.
This went on for a couple of days until you just couldn’t bare it anymore, so you decided to give the men what they wanted and finally test the ridiculous theory yourself. You tried to not make it a big deal, you really did, you were trying to convince yourself that it was a mere distraction from the war but none of it slowed down your racing heart or stopped your trembling hands.
***
When the company was finally granted some very much needed relax time and was taken back from the front lines for a couple of days, you decided to take action. It was a ridiculous plan, stupid really, but if there was something you learned from your friends’ relationships before the war, it was wearing the clothes of your other half. It usually worked in 9 cases out of 10.
You stole one of Hoosier’s army shirts that was for whatever reasons his favourite, so you knew he’d be able to recognize it. Sneaking your way around the camp, you reached the destination where the provisional showers were built.
William Hoosier Smith, the game is on.
The company was watching a movie outside that night – a perfect opportunity. You walked out of the showers, finally feeling fresh and clean in weeks. Plus, the comfort of new clothes on your skin, Hoosier’s clothes, was quite something you weren’t able to describe. It almost felt like being born again.
But only this time it was better, your body shook with anticipation, a grin on your face and a slight blush on your cheeks. This was it, no going back now. You thanked the God that your friends chose their seating place far right, so you didn’t have to make your way through the whole goddamn Company, grabbing everyone’s attention.
Sitting down next to Hoosier and casually lighting your cigarette proved like one of the hardest things to do when wearing this man’s clothes. You were both scared and excited at once, dreading the outcome of your little game as well as welcoming it with open arms.
At first, nothing happened, the boys seemed to be too pulled into the movie to pay attention to anything else, your cigarette for nervousness long gone.
Until Hoosier turned his head to you, you felt his eyes looking you up and down, sending you shivers down your spine.
You didn’t know where the sudden courage was coming from, but you leaned dangerously close to him, whispering, “Is there a problem?”
Hoosier swallowed, taking a drag from his cigarette. He didn’t answer right away, instead a smirk slowly appeared on his face.
“Is that my shirt?”
You knew the question was coming, hell you even prepared possible answers, but it was as if all of them vaporized in the air and your mind was left blank.
You turned your whole body to Hoosier, finally realizing the tense atmosphere between you two.
“Is it?” you tried your best to sound as innocent as possible, “sorry, my bad. Do you want it back?”
Hoosier seemed taken back by your words but only for a fraction of a second, his confident and a bit cocky self was back. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
Your cheeks heating up, you moved closer even more and reached for his cigarette that was hanging from his lips. You slowly took it into your fingers, taking a drag and blowing a puff of smoke into the air. Hoosier’s eyes were fixated on your every move, and you knew you succeeded.
“You might want to follow me, Private Smith.”
“Count on it, Ma’am.”
Maybe Leckie was right, maybe having someone by your side was all you needed to make it through the war. You hadn’t known it back then, when Hoosier was following you in the night, you hadn’t known it the day after, or in a week or a month, but ever since the shirt incident Hoosier had always been there, always by your side, and it was only after the war ended, on the ship home, when you finally realized that the someone Leckie was talking about two years ago was William Smith.
#the pacific imagine#the pacific imagines#the pacific#hbo war#imagine#fanfic#hoosier imagine#hoosier#bill hoosier smith#hoosier x reader#robert leckie#runner conley#lew juergens#chuckler#chuckler juergens
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Hi! I just love your work and was wondering if I could combine 7 and 11 of the HBO War Christmas prompts for Hoosier?
🤩🤩🤩🤩 Yaaaas please honey I'll totally do it!!!! (lol)
It was so fucking cold.
The snow fell in huge, wet flakes on the thick blankets of white snow already coating the ground while you and Hoosier made sure that the kids didn't hurt themselves sledding down the hill. Even the dog couldn't help but chase the kids as they went sliding down towards the powdery snowbank at the edge of the driveway.
Your nose was beet red and so was Hoosier's but the kids didn't want to go in at all. Bobby and Rainy didn't want to go in at all, but nine month old Luke Evan's cheeks were as red as your nose as you held him.
"Alright monkeys," Hoosier announced. "Everybody hustle it on in! It's freezin out here!"
"Aw c'mon!"
"Daddy I don't wanna go in!"
"Let's go guys!"
Rainy pouted but the minute Hoosier gave her the look, she jumped to and followed you in. You were all met with a blast of warm air as you entered the mudroom, stripping off your snowclothes and hanging them to dry on the rack. Missy, the dog you and Hoosier had found on Guadalcanal, made her way in through the dog door, shaking off the wet drops of melted snow in her fur.
"Man I just wish Christmas would come already so she can have her litter," Hoosier remarked as he stripped off his wet clothes and hung them up to dry.
"Yeah but as soon as she has the litter, you know that Spike will be all over her," you chuckled.
"Don't remind me," Hoosier groaned.
As soon as the kids were in and you two had changed into a dry set of clothes, Hoosier threw a log right into the fireplace with Missy and Spike both curled together in their dog bed. The kids had all gone upstairs with Luke Evan having been put into a dry set of clothes and stuck in his crib for a nap while you and Hoosier remained in the living room.
You couldn't help but notice the snow falling outside, nearly reaching the porch rails. Hoosier snaked his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. You two lived for nights like this, a calm and quiet respite from the chaos of early morning and afternoon when the two of you could just be together.
#the pacific hbo#bill hoosier smith#hoosier x reader#hbo war#hbo war imagines#hbo war christmas au#h company
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It’s @ktredshoes‘ birthday today, and when I asked her what sort of drabble she wanted, she asked for Hoosier, from The Pacific, and a chance encounter with one of the Girl Gang somewhere. There’s a pretty wide gap between Melbourne and Aldbourne, though, so this is most def post war, and actually features someone I haven’t talked about at all yet - she’s an OFC who should be appearing later this year in a forthcoming ensemble fic from @wexhappyxfew.
He thought going home would mean he wanted to stay there.
He'd had enough of traveling to last a lifetime, on troop transports and hospital ships, trucks and LCVPs and DUKWs and trains, and he'd thought by the time he made it home it would time for him to rest his feet.
But instead of resting, Hoosier Smith was restless.
There were no beaches in Loogootee, no oceans or waves except for the wind blowing through the cornfields, the endless horizons green and golden growing things, instead of blue water. Now, he was fairly certain he never wanted to see another beach again in his life, never mind another palm tree, crab, or coconut, but he found himself missing all those things - or rather, missing things around them, the friends that were now more dear to him than family.
People said that he'd changed, since he came home. He heard his parents' friends, talking about it over peanuts and beer during the weekly bridge game. "He's quieter, now," Mrs. Davidson said, inspecting her hand as the four of them sat around the card table.
"He was quiet afore," Mr. Davidson shot back. "Not all of us got it in ourselves to be chatterboxes, Pauline."
But it was true - he was keeping himself to himself, lately. People wanted stories that he wasn't ready to tell, not just yet, because how could they hear them and understand them at all, these faded farm people from southern Indiana who'd never been further from home than the state fair?
There was the Legion in town, and the VFW, which he'd been told he could join, but that seemed too far to go for beer on a Friday night, what with gas being what it was and the price of tires if he blew one out on the way. And anyway, seemed like the place was always full of Army types, shooting the shit about Europe, as if their war had been the only one that mattered. If you can't fight 'em drunk, don't fight 'em at all, wasn't that what they always said?
Well, he was tired of fighting - he knew that much.
There wasn’t much going in Loogootee, anyway - the Naval Ammunition Depot in Crane was winding down and jobs were scarce anyway. He found himself contemplating moving, more often - Vincennes, maybe, or Bloomington, or even Louisville, if he felt like changing states. Indianapolis seemed far, but there were jobs there, with good pay, factory jobs where he could make foreman, in a few years, if he had a certificate, proof positive that he was a man who could make something of what he was given. Manager, maybe, later, if he could use those GI benefits everyone was on about and scrape up a degree. He could work during the day and take classes at the night school, take some time to save up so they could one day afford that house that Lela had always talked about buying.
Lela. She’d been the one nice thing about coming home, the one thing he had to look forward to on all those boats and trains and buses. But it’d been three years, more or less, since they’d seen each other, about that long since they’d had an honest conversation, by letter or otherwise. Three years was a long time to grow older, and it didn’t seem right, jumping back in where they’d left off like nothing had happened. Can’t step into the same river twice - the water under your feet changes and so do you.
In the end, he decided to use that college money sooner rather than later. The state school over in Bloomington meant he could come home, on weekends, if he wanted, help around the farm, and the cost of living wasn’t too much for a room near campus and three squares at a cafe. And on Fridays he could catch up on what he’d missed in Lela’s life while he’d been gone.
He didn’t realize he’d feel even less at home where people didn’t know him.
The problem wasn’t school, per se - there were plenty of other vets around campus, and the professors seemed nice enough. He declared for business, which felt like it should work - he was passable at math and had been told once or twice he could make decisions. No, the problem lay more with his classmates.
There was an uncrossable divide between him and the other students, of age and experience both. Too young to enlist, they'd all grown up down here with sisters working at the arsenal and older brothers in the service, their only battles fought over who got to ask the cute girl from science class out on a date, drinking in ideas about what was brave from war movies and John Wayne.
And in his mind, all Bill could think when he saw them was Replacements. They were children, horsing between classes reading comic books about the war, and he felt...ancient. He’d done his growing up, on beaches and in foxholes, and there wasn’t a lot of that boy left in him. There were things they did that he couldn’t conscience, like showing up late for class and talking back to the teacher, and wasting time on questions that they could have known the answers to if they’d bothered to do the reading or get a lick of sleep the night before. They were plain rude, when it came to it, and he found he didn’t have a lot of time for it. (It was one thing for Leckie to sass Larkin, and for Runner to sleep in of a Monday - but they’d earned that privilege, and these kids were still wet behind the ears.) He was older, and looked it, and the others gave him a wide berth, his one word answers not necessarily hostile, but by no means friendly. He wasn’t here to play football, or chase girls - he was here to study, to learn.
Lecture halls made him think of basic, somehow, or Melbourne’s cricket stadium, long rows of indifferent men thinking they knew better when they didn't. It was funny - even here, even now, he could see which of his classmates would flunk the test, and which would talk back to the professor. He picked a seat near the front of the classroom, away from the others, and carefully unloaded his books while they sat behind him talking about their dorms and the party they were going to later that week and a whole lot of things that didn’t sound a lick to him like school.
He wouldn't have looked up if they all hadn't whistled.
She was about his age, maybe a year younger - a blue sweater set and simple gray skirt set set her apart from the boys in their khaki slacks and penny loafers, her hair dressed in soft, dark curls around her shoulders - nothing fancy on the face of things, no class pin or Greek key marking her as a member of either of those tribes. But she was also a girl, exotic for math class, and therefore worthy of the attention being lavished upon her by the back row. She didn’t seem to think too much of the whistling, either, walking inside the classroom and setting her bag down on a desk. Most girls, Bill thought to himself, might have blushed for the attention - but that didn’t seem to be her style.
“You got the right classroom, miss?” one of the whiz kids asked from the back row. “This is Algebra. The room for stenography's down the hall.”
“Yeah,” his friend added, lounging in his letter sweater. “Wouldn't want you to overtire that pretty brain.”
She fixed the back row with an unimpressed stare. "I think I'm right where I need to be." And, shots thus fired, she selected a seat at the front, directly in front of Hoosier, and sat down, arranging her bag at her feet, and the rest of the room snickered uneasily, settling into their seats. Bill watched her for a moment, his eyes following her hands as she pulled out notebook and pencil and sliderule, his gaze catching on her watch - US Army issue. Well, now, that’s something.
But he didn't want to be the idiot who asked, not after that production from the back row, and the professor was arriving, anyway. A paunchy, balding type in coke-bottle glasses, he tossed his leather bag on the desk and announced, without much fanfare, that this was Mathematics 211, College Algebra, he would not be bothering to read the roll as they were not children any longer, and did not need to be so managed, and then launched dispassionately into his grading scale, the formatting he expected for assignments, and the reading they could expect to do for next week. Housekeeping thus finished, he pulled one of the chalkboards down from the vast array on the wall behind him, and went to work.
It was sixty minutes of hell, and Bill would have gladly signed up for another aerial bombardment from the Japanese before attempting it again - but the woman in front of him had silently consumed the whole lecture like a sponge, her pencil flying over her notebook and her hand raised for every question.
The professor never called on her.
The jokers in the back row, sure, more than once, even with the answers wrong, and the quivering, semi-somnambulant mass of boys in the middle of the room, but never her, even though she was in the front row and in his line of sight and obviously a deal more awake than half the others. She sat up straight in her chair in a way that looked vaguely military to the man sitting behind her, himself unable to lounge the way some of these jokers were doing.
And in between her ability to stand her ground and the lightning fast figuring, Hoos was forming the opinion that of all the clowns in this class, this woman was not one of them, and probably a good one to have on your team besides.
At eleven o’clock precisely, the professor wrapped up his lecture, left a stack of neatly mimeographed syllabi on the desk, and left, allowing the class to filter out behind him, most, but not all, of the students stopping to pick up the syllabus. Hoosier waited until the hubbub died down before going to collect his copy, grabbing two on impulse and turning back to the woman, still carefully packing her bag.
He cleared his throat and held out the mimeograph. “Reckon they don't sell that watch at the women's counter at Montgomery Ward.”
She looked up at him and then down at her wrist and smiled, briefly, before tucking the syllabus away in her notebook. "Reckon they don't."
“Bill Smith,” he said, holding out his hand to shake. “First Marines.”
She looked at his hand, surprised, perhaps, that he would greet her thus, one solider to another, and rose from her seat to shake his hand. She had a firm grip, and a strange callus on the palm of her hand. “Edith Lockner. Pathfinders.”
He’d been expecting her to say...something else, WACs or Nurse Corps or a boyfriend, and he couldn’t help the surprised laugh that jumped out of his mouth. “So you know something about finding your place, I guess.”
“Could say that. And I suppose you know something about front lines.”
“And guys who don’t know when to quit,” He added, more than a little pleased when the joke made her smile. “I’ll - ah - run point for you, next week, if you want. Veterans gotta stick together.”
“You’re mighty kind to offer, Mr. Smith.”
“My friends call me Hoosier.” It was her turn to laugh, and he realized he might have to start shopping for a new nickname. “Not sure where that leaves me here at State, though.”
She nodded, still smiling. She had a nice smile - it reminded him of Lela’s, the kind that assured you she thought you were all right. “My friends call me Edie.”
#i have written a thing#happy birthday Katie!#birthday drabble#edie lockner#bill hoosier smith#1940s girl gang#the pacific x oc#original female character#the pacific imagine#band of brothers imagine#hoosier smith#mercurygraypresents
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