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4 times Donald Malarkey Wanted to kiss you , the one time he did.
Pairings: Donald Malarkey x f!reader
Requested by: none, just an idea I had :)
Warnings: Bastogne, Mentions of depression, character death, Donald being flustered, uhh tons of switches of POV's but just read it and be happy.
A/n: reallllyyy didn't like this. I mean, I like the Toccoa part (#1) but I felt like it gradually decreased in quality as it went on. Also, my first ever band of brothers fic so be weary.
Malarkey, shamefully, had noticed how much his thoughts were about you. He found you occupying his mind about anything and everything. Something you said yesterday, your smile when Luz had mocked Coronel sink, your eyes and how they shined in the dark moonlight during the notorious night march, your hands when you'd accidentally brushed your knuckles against his during breakfast this morning.
All the little things nobody else would care to notice Malarky cherished like it was religion. Of course, Malarkey's best friends, Muck and Penkala, had caught wind of his obsession when he spoke just a little too much of the woman within the company.
They teased him for it, as all friends do when they learn their best bud is crushing a little too hard on a girl.
Sitting in the cafeteria, Malarkey was subject to that teasing. "Whatcha dreaming about larkey'?" Warren asked, a cheeky smile stretched across his face.
"You already know it's Y/n, so why'd you ask?" Alex was quick to respond, Warren nodding in fake thoughtfulness.
"I imagine Malarky sits and dreams all about kissing Y/n. I saw him staring at her yesterday. Ain't that right Malarky? What were you thinking about then?" Warren's smile grows even larger and he puckers his lips, "mhmm" He groans with a mock high-pitch voice, "y/n, Please kiss me! You're so pretty! I really, really love you y'know!"
The ginger flushes red from embarrassment, Although, Donald won't lie to himself, he does think of the softness of your lips more than he'd like to admit… but that wasn't the point. He thinks to himself while he swats his friend harshly from across the table, trying to shut him up before the whole company learns his secret. "Can it, will you?" He whisper-yells, kicking Warren in the shins full force to which causes the blond haired boy to exclaim in agony.
"It's true! I swear, you probably think about kissing her–" Warren is cut off by a very familiar voice and Malarkey's stomach drops in fear.
"Who's thinking about kissing who?" You say, plopping down in the seat next to Malarky innocently, while the poor ginger turns as red in the face as his hair on his head.
Theres a few beats of stunned, awkward silence before finally Alex answers "Malarky thinks about kissing-" Donald shoots him a warning glare and a hard nudge of his foot, "-Margaret. Yeah, a girl back home whom he knew. A real broad, that one."
Malarkey doesn't notice the way your face falls at the mention of someone at home, "Y-yeah" He stutters out. "Margaret. Real pretty." Or the way you go silent and your shoulders slump.
"Sounds real nice." You half mumble while you shovel a spoon of oatmeal in your mouth.
Muck and Penkala glance at each other with looks that say 'oh fuck' while everyone resumes eating breakfast in an awkward silence.
Malarkey hit the ground with a thud, his white parachute settling on the ground behind him while he worked on cutting himself free and condensing the fabric into a tight roll.
It was dark, with sounds of gunfire in the distance. A rustle in the bushes caused Malarkey's head to snap in that direction. "Thunder?" He called out hesitantly, cautious not to be too loud.
The bush moved, followed by "flash" in response and a silhouette stepped out.
With the limited lighting Malarkey was squinting to see who he had reunited with. Was it Liebgott? Toye? Winters? Was it you?
It didn't take long to get an answer when the person made themselves known, stepping into a thick beam of moonlight, face illuminated by the white light.
Malarkey was beyond relieved. He had found you. Even better, still alive and breathing. He doesn’t know what he would've done had it been your body, strung up in the branches of a tree.
"You're alive." He all but whispered.
"What'd you think was gonna happen? Really thought the Krauts got the better of me?" You chuckle, a warm smile on your face, "Have a little faith, will you?"
Oh how he wanted to cup your cheeks and kiss you.
Malarkey wanted to reach forwards, grab your face with his hands, and plant his lips on yours. He wanted to show you how worried he was. How sickeningly scared he had been that you were dead before he'd even jumped from the plane.
There is a silence while you move to embrace each other, eyes staring into one another's in an emotion you both can't quite name, something you'll find out later when feelings unravel themselves.
Malarkey doesn't notice the way you both subconsciously had begun leaning into each other, faces inching closer. A thought flashed across Malarkey's mind. He could kiss you. He could ruin his friendship.
Little did he know, none of that would need to be decided as A voice calls from the bushes "Thunder?" immediately met with you calling out a quick 'flash!' And pulling away.
Begrudgingly, Malarkey realizes he must find easy company, there's no time to sulk, he finishes packing his parachute into a tight ball and stands to join you and the new soldier they joined with.
The bar was deafening and unorderly. Soldiers of all ranks and ages were drinking, a golden yellow ale were being thrust into the air in cheer over the recent win in Carentan.
Malarkey and his best friends, Warren Muck and Alex Penkala were seated in a small booth towards the back of the bar with each of them having an ale on the table.
Malarkey excuses himself, going to grab another drink, he blows a sigh through his lips and begins pushing himself through the mass of people and to the bar.
When he finally got to the counter, two bartenders were rushing between calls for another beer. He was going to be here for awhile.
While standing patiently waiting for a drink, a figure approaches. Malarkey recognizes it as Lieutenant Winters and immediately is straightening himself out when he approaches. "Sir?" He questions when the red-headed lieutenant stops in front of him.
"Malarkey. I think it'd be best for sergeant Y/n to be off for the night. Except, she won't listen to me."
Donald smiles at the Lieutenant, peeking over his shoulder in the direction he came, sure enough seeing a drunken you, half asleep and nearly falling off your chair. "Will do, lieutenant."
"Have a good evening, Malarkey." And with that the man was off.
Making his way over to you, the ginger tapped you on the shoulder gently, prompting a grunt in response. "C'mon y/n, we gotta get you to bed."
Attempting to stand you nearly topple over, Malarkey's hand reaching out to grip your forearm, a giggle escaping your drunken lips. After stumbling out into the warm summer air and across camp, Malarkey had you nearly in bed and was ready to leave you to your own.
He draws in a deep breath and leans down hesitantly. Malarkey places his lips lightly on your cheek for a moment, hunched over your half-asleep form.
Moments pass where you stay like that before he whispers a soft "good night" and exits the room promptly.
when he leaves he can feel the giddiness running through his veins, a smile pulling itself onto his lips.
Malarkey wasn’t sure what to do anymore. There was a dull ache that filled his chest, a sensation that he could only describe as a leech sucking the life straight from the organ that pumped blood throughout his body. He was a man stranded on an island, unable to get off.
Muck was gone. Penkala was gone too. Gone as in, He’d never talk to them again. Bodies blown into oblivion by a direct hit of a mortar. If he’d known the last words he had spoken to them would've been so soon, he would have told them a whole lot more. Told them how good of friends they had become and how dear they had become to him. But he'd never get that chance because they had been taken from him all too soon. Like a bandaid being pulled off a fresh wound, much to early to fend off the infectious depression threatening to poison him from the brain. Kill him with his own emotions.
Oh god, he wanted to break down. He wanted to be held in the arms of the person he loved. Wanted to cry so hard all his worries went away. But Malarkey wasn’t supposed to do that; wasn't allowed for he was a man in a time of war.
Malarkey was perched on the edge of the cot he was assigned, elbows resting on tired knees and supporting his head while he stared meaninglessly at the floor. His eyes traced over the brown cracks etched into worn floorboards, following each individual splinter and fissure, curious to where they ended up.
“Malarkey?”
He knew it was you, in the back of his mind your voice clicked, but he didn’t have it in himself to look up or respond in fear he would break down. He didn’t want to seem so vulnerable in front of you.
“Don?”
Malarkey could feel a piece of his cold, lifeless gaze peel away with the soft mention of his name, the syllables falling delicately from your perfect mouth. And when he looked up, his crestfallen gaze meeting your concerned one, he felt the strong want to cry. The emotion must've crossed his face more prominently than he’d have liked, as something flashed in your gaze and immediately you were ready to comfort the grief-stricken man.
“Oh, Malarkey.” You say, breath no louder than a whisper, immediately seating yourself beside him on the bed and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into the most delicate hug he’s ever had.
He finds it comforting how it reminds him of his mother back home. How she used to wrap him up in her arms and whisper sweet nothings into his ear when he would cry. Malarkey thinks about a lot of things while lying in your arms. He thinks about Muck, teasing him about something stupid he had done while Alex laughs from the side, adding on to the playful mocking they induce. He thinks about home, about his brothers John and Bob and his sister, Marilyn, or his mother and father, how they were all waiting patiently for his return to the states.
“I’m so so sorry.” You mumble into his hair, rocking the boy gently, “I know how much they meant to you.”
Malarkey doesn’t respond, he just cries silently into the comfort of your shoulder. He weeps onto your clothed arm, snot and wet tears soaking into the worn green fabric of your tunic– not like you mind.
When he feels like he's had enough, he's pulling away, red eyes puffy with tears and staring at you. "Thanks." It's quiet, such a low whisper before Malarkey is pulling away and standing up, leaving the tent.
Malarkey was done with war, done with the horrors forever etched into the fabrics of his very brain, done with firing a hot round of smoking gunpowder and bronze metal into a German's body and watching them fall to the ground.
He never thought he could have been happier when he received the news that the last of the German army surrendered.
The first thing he did was go looking for you, asking his fellow easy company boys if they'd seen you. After many, 'I Don't know, sir,' Liebgott was his savior and pointed out you were in a building just across the street.
Malarkey, bursting with joy, raced across the street and into the house, nearly running into you as he threw open the door.
He didn't even think, he just grabbed you and kissed you out of glee. He pulled away shortly after, barely recognizing the fact he probably ruined a good friendship out of his own moments of joy, and you looked like you were about to short circuit, pure surprise painting your face, "The Germans surrendered, the war's over!"
Malarkey is smiling down at you when your fist grab his collar harshly and yank him back down into a kiss.
He blinks in surprise, taken aback by your boldness, before melting into the kiss.
Yours and his lips move in sync, the world muted around the both of you, and the only sound was the beat of your hearts. The kiss was sweet as honey, soft and gentle, but full of love and affection. The taste of his lips lingered on yours, like a memory etched in your soul that you would never forget.
"Im sorry-" you splutter out shortly after.
"Sorry? About what?" Malarkey asks, a look of shock melting into his features.
"About Margaret– you love her, not me, and I just ruined that.. oh my God you probably hate me right now! Im just–"
Malarkey smiles and crashes his lips onto yours to silence your rambling, "You don't know how long I've wanted that." He whispers when he pulls away and leans his forehead against yours.
"B-but Margaret?"
"Oh silly," He chuckles, "Margaret was never real. We were talking about you."
"You were… thinking about kissing me?" A look of confusion paints your face while Malarkey laughs.
"Yes, sweetheart." He says before kissing you again.
If Malarkey thought he was happy about the end of the war, boy was he wrong. This made his whole life a greater place that he'd describe as a sunny meadow with white clouds scuttling across a vast blue sky and a colorful array of daisies and red eyed-susan's that blow gently in a breeze tainted with a smell of salt that wafts from the nearby ocean. That was his dream. To live there, in that place, with you. Luckily for him, the war was over, and you were both going home, together.
So for day one I choose two prompts because I couldn’t decide on just one so I have chosen Scenery and Training.
For ‘Scenery’ I have tried to include a scene from every episode and it’s just made me fall in love again with how cinematic and incredible y produced this show is.
And here is my ‘Training’ moodboard mainly based around Camp Toccoa which happens to be one of my favourite episodes.
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Prompt: Mary and Lieb met while training at Camp Toccoa. Both were paratroopers of Easy Company. But the rules were clear: Dating or romantic involvement was prohibited. This made Lieb and Mary date in secret, 'til the girl found out that he had cheated on her.
After breaking up with Joe, Mary grows closer to Bill Guarnere, and what was meant to be just a friendship becomes a marriage. But Bill and Mary don't love each other, and Liebgott is sorry. What will happen?
Warning ⚠️: the character 'Leigh Spencer' was created by @msmercury84 . I asked for use the character in my fic and she allowed. Thanks, Leigh! ❤️
Chapter One
Mary was walking along the road and doing her patrol, when Joe Liebgott showed up. The girl smiled from her boy, who came to her and kissed her.
'Stop, Lieb! Winters can see us!'
'Winters know all about us. Everyone else know all about of us. We just haven't assumed our relationship yet cause of the formalities of the war, but as soon as this is all over, I'm going to hug and kiss you without major problems.'
Joe hugged Mary, lifting her off the ground. 'And I love you so much and I want to marry you, Mary Corleone. You know that. Don't you?'
'Oh!' She screamed in fright, kicking her feet in the air. 'Joseph D. Liebgott, put me down now!'
'Don't scream! It will draw everyone's attention here!' He warned with a smile. Then Joe announced that he had an appointment and took his leave, leavin' Mary to complete her patrol.
A few hours later, when already was the morning, Mary was sleeping when she heard Pat Christenson's voice. He arrived fumbling, knocking a coffee pot off the table, startling Bull, Guarnere and Babe, who were sitting in the room next to where Mary was sleeping.
'What happened, Pat? It looks like you saw a ghost!'
'It's Liebgott!' Christenson was scared and stuttering.
Mary jumped on the bed, but didn't make a sound. She wanted to hear when Pat was going to say. In the next room, Bill asked.
'Let's go, Pat! What happened with Liebgott?'
'A girl. He was in his dormitory with a girl!'
Everyone was silent and after a few seconds, Bull affirmed.
'Mary is sleeping in the next room. She just got back from patrol. Liebgott is a piece of shit.
'I went in there to get an outfit I had forgotten, and when I got there, I saw the naked girl on top of him. He would spank her ass and say he never had such a nice girl in his life.'
'Damn! Mary will be devastated!' Bill cursed and rubbed his face.
'Shall we tell her?' Babe finally spoke.
'No. We shouldn't.' Bull asked.
Guarno was about to say what she needed to know when Mary appeared in the doorway.
'I heard everything I had to hear. It's unfortunate that you wanted Lieb to keep fooling me, Bull. You shouldn't have even thought about it. It was your duty, my friends, to tell me. Liebgott asked me to marry him, and you know it. I was going to let that son of a bitch put a ring on my finger, and you were wondering if you were going to let him keep fooling me!'
'Mary, I...'
'All right, Pat. I already heard what I needed. Where are they?'
'In Lieb's dormitory. Mary, wait! If you make a scene, you can be expelled from the paratroopers. The rules are clear: Dating is prohibited!' Babe tried to stop his friend, but she just walked away.
'Can't we date? But is okay fuck local girls? I'm tired of hanging my head. I've been doing this since Toccoa.'
Furious, Mary went towards where her fiancé was. They boys wanted to go after her, but Bill told the to wait there, and that only he would go. And so, Wild Bill followed Mary.
