Band of Brothers Oneshots

Good Girl

Pairings: Ronald Speirs x f!reader
Summary: Speirs is a tease and he doesn't always play nice.
Warnings: sexual images, swearing, Winters being awkward, kinky Ron, themes of war
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Bastogne had been cold but Haguenau wasn't much better. The wind bit fiercely at her face, freezing the tip of her nose and chapping her lips as she marched, head down, hands balled into fists. She couldn't believe it. How was it when something went wrong it always seemed to be her damn fault? It's not like Easy was her company, she was just a Corporal for Christ's sake but for some reason known only to God, Ronald Speirs had it in for her and regardless of the situation he would call her for a little chat.
Her boots sounded loudly up the corridor, snow and mud flaking off on the rotten wooden floor.
First Sergeant Lipton greeted her with a small smile from beneath his mountain of blankets, his voice weak and shaky as he told her to take a seat.
"Just stay calm, Y/n. I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems.
"That's easy for you to say, Sir," Y/n reminded him of the last time Speirs had called her to his office and Lipton had nearly lost his head to a flying plate.
Heavy footfall from the left caused Y/n to stand, her hand swiftly saluting the three offices as they entered the room. Winters and Nixon nodded at her before heading out, still deep in their conversation and leaving her with Speirs who looked as though he was about to blow his top.
"Y/I/n, with me. NOW!" Y/n trailed along like a dejected puppy, her head hanging low as she waited for the onslaught that was to come. Speirs slammed the heavy, oak door behind her but she didn't jump. This exact situation had happened enough times that it barely phased her anymore.
"Corporal, why do you think I've called you here?" Speirs asked, leaning against the desk in the centre of the room. He had his overcoat off and the sleeves of his jumper rolled up, revealing the bulging veins of his arms as he glared at her.
"No, Sir," Y/n replied innocently and she noticed the very subtle change in his eyes. She was in for it now.
"Well funny enough I didn't expect to find one of the finest medics in the company having a snowball fight with some of the replacements.
We're in a war zone for fuck sake. You've been through Bastogne, l'd have thought you could have been trusted, could have been relied on but..."
"Sir, it was just for a few minutes. We were back from the line by our billet. The boys are homesick, Sir."

"HOMESICK. FUCKING HOMESICK! How long has it been since you've seen home, Corporal," he demanded, his eyes wild and his jaw shaking with the effort to not explode.
"Nearly two years, Sir," she muttered, toeing her boot into the floor.
"And how long has it been for them? Two weeks?
If anyone should be homesick it's us. The Toccoa men. The men who have been through hell and back and are still fighting. I rely on you to set a good example and if I can't trust a medic. Well, who the hell can I trust?"
Yin picked at the cuff of her frayed uniform, "will that be all, Sir?"
"Yes, you may go."
Y/n saluted the Lieutenant before heading to the door, she was pulling it closed behind her when Speirs spoke. "Do you want a drink?"
"I'm sorry, Sir?" Y/n raised an eyebrow as she peaked around the edge of the door.
"A drink? I managed to find some half-decent whiskey that Captain Nixon had yet to drink.
Would you like a glass?"
Y/n wasn't sure what to say, she wanted to get the hell away from his harsh glare as soon as possible but she was also curious. Why did he suddenly want to have a drink with her? For all Y/ n knew he couldn't stand the sight of her.
"Ummm, alright. Thank you, Sir."
YIn took a seat on the dark, leather sofa to the left of the desk, cautiously on the edge in case she was mistaken and needed to make a run from an angry Lieutenant.
"Here," Speirs hesitantly passed her a glass of the amber liquid and she took it gratefully, the alcohol burning her throat pleasantly as it slipped down.
She hadn't had good alcohol since the celebration when Easy received their jump wings. The rest of the time it had been lukewarm, foamy beer.
"So, how are you holding up?" Speirs watched her from afar, his dark eyes boring into her as he waited.
"I'm fine. Thank you, Sir." How else was she supposed to reply? She couldn't exactly tell him how much she hated the God-awful hell hole and could wait to be back somewhere that was warm and allowed her to feel her limbs once more.
"Good. That's good." Speirs swirled the orange liquid around his glass, having not taken a drink yet and instead glared at the liquid as if someone gave him a sour aftertaste without consuming it.
"Sir, is there something you wanted to discuss?" Yn wanted answers, there were only so many times she could avoid his eye contact and swallow nervously.
"Not especially. I just... wanted some company." Speirs admitted, turning to look out of the window onto the deserted streets below. Y/n sat very still, her eyes tracing over his frame, strong shoulders tensed, large hands leaning splayed against the window frame.
"I can feel you watching me," Speirs spoke in a hushed tone but Y/n knew he heard her small intake of breath. "I always know when you're watching me."
"Sir, I..."
"Don't deny it. I watch you too, you know. I watch when you stock supplies, I watch you when you throw back your head and your eyes crease as you laugh. I watch you more than you realise."
By this point, Speirs had turned to face her and Y/ n didn't know whether to be flattered or terrified as the lieutenant approached her.
"Sir?" Y/n couldn't help the unsteadiness of her voice and her eyes grew wider as he knelt before her, his hands tracing up her thigh.
"We can't deny ourselves of human touch, Corporal. Desires of the flesh"
"Lieutenant Speirs...Sir... I," Y/n gasped as his hand slipped up further under her jacket, fumbling with the belt that secured her trousers.
With his body hovering over her, Y/n couldn't remember how to breathe, the air entered her lungs in short, sharp gasps as she felt his fingers travelling along the soft flesh of her stomach.
"Please," she whispered, feeling completely pathetic but no longer able to care. "Please just touch me."
"Oh Darling, I thought you'd never ask."
Y/n wasn't sure what happened next, the order of events was a blur but soon enough she was moaning into Ron's neck, her hips rolling in time with the rhythm of his fingers against her clit. She withered beneath him, nails wracking down his clothed back but Ron didn't seem to notice. The knot in Y/n's stomach was tightening and she could feel her thighs beginning to shake with the effort of controlling herself from reeling off a string of profanities when the door flung open.
"Speirs, could you.." Lieutenant Winters stood frozen in the doorway, the apple in his hand long forgotten and his cheeks blushed the colour of the hair on his head. He gulped and Y/n felt herself trying to clamp her legs shut and move away from Ron but the grip he had on her hips was firm and unwavering.
"Yes, Major Winters?" Speirs asked as if he wasn't seconds away from giving Y/n the orgasm of her life.
"'ll come back at another time," Winters shook his head avoiding eye contact with Y/n and pulling the door closed softly behind him. Y/n felt herself let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and glared up at Ron who was just
smiling smugly at her.
"Ron, I swear to God..."
"Now, now or I'll forget to play nice," Ron winked at her and Y/n thought she could fall apart just from that one action. Her mouth snapped shut and Ron snickered, "That's what I thought. Good
girl."