#boooooom

OH MY GOD

YOU WILL HATE ME FOREVER FOR THIS

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Me: Man I burned my hand I’m big hurt I can’t draw...

Hand the next day: Lol I know I started swelling and turning all red but I’m good now haha

A/N: here’s some Joe Toye x female!medic for you!! This ended up being way longer than intended, but in BOB he makes me feel some type of way. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ, what’d you do to the poor girl?” “What? I didn’t do anything!” “Toye, she’s pinker than a fuckin’ strawberry for crying out loud.” Luz chided. “It’s her fault for blushing so damn easy. She fell so I just helped her up.” I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “I-I was just, uh, looking for Doc. I need scissors.” Avoiding eye contact with a tent full of mostly shirtless, completely fit young men was quite difficult and I wondered what I’d done to deserve this – for better or for worse. When I first embarked upon my quest for a pair of scissors, I didn’t expect to trip over a pair of boots and face-plant. I certainly didn’t expect those boots to belong to an inconveniently shirtless Joe Toye, but that seemed to be my luck lately. I’d run into the devastatingly handsome young soldier on numerous, unfortunate occasions and I was beginning to feel that the universe had it out for me. I couldn’t wash dirty laundry in peace (Joe and Malarkey, donning only underwear, jumped in the pond), I couldn’t eat peacefully in the dining hall (I dropped spaghetti on Joe. Twice.), and I absolutely couldn’t sleep well (Lipton had just moved my bunk right above – you guessed it – Joe Toye’s bed). Now, I also could not search for scissors without emotional distress. These unpleasant instances would not cause me so much misery if I did not find myself absurdly attracted to Joe Toye, but I was learning quickly that the world could be a cruel place. I’d seen Joe at his most comfortable, playfully roughhousing with the guys and downing a few beers. It just so happened that I made an utter fool of myself anytime he was within arm’s length and his gruff silences and unimpressed expressions seemed to translate into a simple, nonverbal I don’t like you. Lipton appeared, graciously clothed and glowing in the firelight like an angel. “Doc went to touch base with Spina a few tents down.” I nodded, cheeks still heated. “Thank you, sir.” I barely caught Lipton’s quick sidelong glance with enough time to panic. “Toye, walk her over there, will you?” My eyes widened in horror. “Oh no, sir, that w-won’t be necessary. I don’t wanna trouble anyone. I can make it over there on my own, no problem a-at all.” I babbled, flustered all over again. Lipton smiled gently at me. “I know you’re one hell of a tough cookie and I know none of these men here would hurt a hair on your head, but I can’t speak for the rest of the guys out there. And I’d like to keep one of the best medics in the whole army out of harm’s way.” Straightening my posture, I nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand.” Lipton cut a look to the dark haired, olive skinned man on my right. “Toye, no funny business, okay?” Joe’s mouth opened and closed indignantly, scowling. “Yes, sir.” He grumbled. Maybe, just maybe, I caught a dusting of pink across his flawless skin.   Luz smirked from the bed across from Joe’s. “Yeah, Joe, no funny business. She’s gonna have an aneurysm if you get her any more flustered.” “George!” I groaned into my hands. “Or if you don’t put a shirt on.” He added in a quiet voice. In response, I scowled and gave him the finger. “Huh?” Joe asked, tying up his boots. “Oh, nothing. Just letting Y/N know that I don’t got any scissors.” I had never formally notified George Luz of my miserable crush on Joe, but the man had a knack for discovering well-kept secrets, including (but not limited to) Joe Liebgott’s stash of chocolate. And, perhaps, my moon-eyes, dreamy sighs, and metaphorical drooling weren’t as conspicuous as I needed them to be. Toye appeared unfazed. He tugged on a snug white t-shirt that put his toned arms on display for the whole battalion to admire and slung his rifle over his shoulder. His voice was rough and gravelly as he told me, “Let’s go.” I was embarrassed to admit to myself that I’d probably go anywhere he asked me. As if Luz could read my mind and wanted to cause me further distress, he suggestively drawled, “Stay safe, kids.” 

The air was clean and dry through summer nights around northern France. It smelled mostly of flowers at this camp and less of gunpowder. It was windy enough to just barely ruffle my hair, warm breeze kissing my cheeks. The moon floated above our heads, looming and glowing, playing pretty shadows of light across Joe’s chiseled features. “You really don’t have to walk me over to the other tents, Joe.” I told him quietly. He half-snorted. “Let me follow orders, doll.” “Okay.” I nearly squeaked, grateful that the cover of darkness hid my – once again – red cheeks. “Plus,” He started, scuffing his boots against the gravel. “I don’t mind.” He told me quietly. “Oh,” I breathed, heart thudding. “Well. Thanks.” He hummed in response and we continued winding our way through the camp. The silence that hung between was only slightly awkward, occasionally punctuated by rowdy yelling and rough laughter. “Sorry about the spaghetti the other day, by the way.” I said quietly. He breathed a laugh and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you were wasting my Ma’s cooking.” I smiled, almost bitterly. “Wouldn’t dream of doing something like that.” There was a beat of silence before he asked, “Do you miss home?” Joe cast a sidelong glance my way, making me slightly self-conscious. “Yeah, of course I do. But I didn’t feel like I could do as much good at home, so I came here.” He looked at me, almost fondly, lips tugging upward into a lopsided grin. “You’re doing a lot of good here, Y/N.” “When I’m not tripping over boots and spilling spaghetti, maybe. Thank you.” I laughed nervously. “What about you? Do you miss home?” I dared to look up at him, my heart leaping up into my throat. His long lashes grazed his cheeks as he looked down at the dirt, his mouth curled into a bitter smile. “Guess I do. But I don’t know, it’s nice to feel like I’m making a difference here. I never feel much like that when I’m home.” He told me, hesitation flickering across his face, dark eyes meeting my own. I frowned, heart aching at the despair lacing his quiet words. “You’re a good man, Joe, you – “ He nodded tensely to the tent on my right. “We’re here.” “Right. Thanks, Joe.” I swallowed nervously, forcing myself to flash him a friendly smile. He reciprocated the gesture, just barely. “No problem, Y/N. Get those scissors.” As I turned on my heel, a loud popping noise reverberated over our heads. I barely had a moment to look up before I was knocked over onto the ground, the air squeezed out of my lungs with the impact of the fall. I wheezed out a breath, looking straight up at the sky as someone nearby exchanged fire with the enemy. It took a few moments to register the yelling and the crack of ricochets and Joe Toye’s athletic frame hovering protectively over my own.   We spent a few beats suspended in a space that was just us – wide eyes, bated breath, and flustered skin. “Up.” My voice cracked. “Up! We gotta get up, Joe!” I told him frantically. He jumped off of me like I was the one shooting at him. “Right. Shelter. Let’s go find cover. And Lip.” His voice caught, lower than usual, and if we weren’t trying to escape raining bullets, I might have swooned a little. We stuck close together, winding our way through the tents, avoiding fire and frantic privates. We found Lip grimacing on the far end of the field, high enough to have a good vantage point, surrounded by dense brush, Malarkey, Babe, and Smokey. “Where do you want us, sir?” Joe asked. Instinctively, I scanned each of the men for injuries. “Edward Heffron, you better put that helmet on, or so help me god I will kill you myself.” Babe grumbled. “You’re as bad as Doc.” Lipton barked out orders to his men and told me to stay near him until I heard a cry for a medic.