#wardaddy x reader

The words were written in a lovely cursive, not the typical choppy, slant she associated with her grandfather's handwriting. There were dried tear marks smudging some of the words and scattered around the paper. 

 Sweetheart, I don't know how to make this any easier on you, so I am just going to say it. Your grandfather is gone. There was an accident. The neighbor's truck was acting up again so your grandfather went to help and then…

 The words blurred before her eyes, no longer recognizable.  Gone… her grandmother could not even come out and say the truth. He was dead. The man that mattered most to her was dead. 

 She wanted to scream at the heavens, she wanted to cry until there was nothing left in her, she wanted to burn the letter and pretend her world had not imploded.

 Mostly she just wanted her grandfather back. 

 Instead she sat there, kneeling in the mud, staring out over the field next to the tanks, the letter clutched in her hand like her life depended on it. Tears streaked down her cheeks, cleaning away the grime and grease that felt like a permanent stain on her skin. 

 The fog in her mind lifted when she heard someone call her name. Turning her head slowly, she glanced over her shoulder to see Bible approaching her. Gordo stood a few feet away watching her, eyebrows furrowed. She could guess why. She never cried. Even when a chunk of tank pierced her thigh and Wardaddy had to pull it out, no tears fell. Even when everyone else in their unit died, tanks blown sky high, she never shed a tear. 

 "What's wrong, Whiskey? You hurt?"

 Silently she handed him the letter. Words felt like too much effort right now.  Even hearing her nickname felt like a stab to her gut. Her grandfather had instilled in her the knowledge of good whiskey so now she was humorously picky when it came to drinking alcohol.  

 It did not take long for him to understand. "Oh, Whiskey. I'm so sorry." He wrapped his arms around her, putting his chin on the top of her head as she pressed her face to his chest. "He's in Heaven now with our Lord, looking down on you. No more pain, only happiness. He probably found himself a bench with Saint Peter and is keeping an eye on you, yeah? Looking out for his girl."

 She nodded, thankful for Bible's intuition of what she needed to hear. 

 He held her for a few more moments before the cries of 'move out' sounded and men piled back into the tanks, war ready to resume. 

 He let her go but stared into her eyes. "You need to talk, or even a hug, you find me."

 "Tha...thank you."

 "We're family. A bit dysfunctional but family."

 She chuckled, quickly wiping away the dried tears with the sleeve of her jacket, caking her face in grime once again. One more nod to each other, they stood up and clambered into Fury. Gordo squeezed her hand when she slipped into the gunner's seat next to him. Coon-Ass patted her shoulder awkwardly. Wardaddy gave her a brief nod, but it was his gaze, all the sentiment in it almost broke her resolve to bury her pain. 

 Now was not the time. They had a job to do. 

 Best job she ever had. 

 ******

 That evening, under the stars, she leaned against a brick building that once was a cafe but now was half demolished. Cigarette between her lips as her thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. Everyone that was not on guard duty was asleep. 

 Footsteps approached her but she knew who it was without looking. She knew he would find her eventually. He always did. 

 Without a word, he leaned against the brick next to her, lighting his own cigarette. They stood that way, silently, watching the stars as the smoke from their cigarettes drifted upward to join the celestial beings. 

 Giving in, she tipped her head to the side, laying it against Don's shoulder, his arm wrapping around her. 

 "He's dead."

 "Yeah."

 "I don't… I don't know what to do."

 "You keep living." His harsh tone made her peer up at him in the dark, but he continued, staring ahead. "You keep living every goddamn day doing the best you can, to honor them, but mostly cause you alive and they aren't.  You live while there is breath in your lungs because one day there won't be and you don't want to realize you wasted those breathes. Trust me on that."

 And she did. She knew about the scars on his back and where they came from. One drunken night he told her and Bible about it. 

 He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head. "I'll take care of you."

 "I know. But when this damn war is over and we go home, I…."

 "I'll take care of you." He interrupted, exhaling, smoke slipping between his lips. 

 "What?"

 "You heard me. You aren't going home alone. You're coming home with me." His statement said, so matter of fact, as he kept staring at the stars.

 "I am?"

 "Yeah, be my wife. There's land behind my folks place. We'll build a house and you can hunt in the woods all day long or work on vehicles in the garage."

 "You want me to marry you?" She needed to make sure she was not hallucinating.  

 "I sure as hell ain't letting you marry any of these other bastards."

 She could not help it. She threw her head back and laughed. God, it felt good. Anything was better than crying. 

 Turning around so she was facing him properly, his arm still around her, hand on her hip now, she stared at him. Taking one last inhale of her cigarette, she dropped it onto the ground. She had always thought he was attractive. At the beginning she may have even had a schoolgirl crush on him. As time passed and she got to know him more, that crush evolved into something deeper. Something stronger. His loyalty, his  protectiveness for those he cared about, his nerves of steel, his sincerity and his ability to think calmly and rationally even in the most dire of circumstances...those things began to mean more to her than just his pretty face. Even if it was very pretty. 

 "You serious? You really want me to marry you?"

 "That's what I said."

 She stared at him, trying to imagine herself as his wife, as living a simple life together. Something she had never imagined for herself before...until now. And with the picture in her mind, she realized she wanted that. More specific, she wanted that with him. "Well, ok."

 He finally looked down at her, lips turned up just slightly. "Yeah?"

 "Yeah. Yes, Don, I will marry you."

 A full, brilliant smile split his face. He dropped his cigarette and cupped her face, pressing his lips against hers in a mad rush. Her own hands grabbed his jacket, pulling him as close as possible as she opened her mouth to allow their tongues to dance. She wondered if this is what it felt like to be on morphine. A lightness filled her, everything felt right with the world, a warmth stirred in her belly. Kissing Don Collier had to be the best thing she had ever done in her life. Well maybe second best thing, since she agreed to marry him and fully expected more kisses in the future. 

 Breathing heavy once their lips unlatched, Don held her close, his chin on top of her head. Her hands still gripped his jacket but now more to steady herself. Her legs felt like limp noodles and her mind was in a euphoria of bliss. 

 "So, this means we're calling you Warmomma instead of Whiskey?"

 She looked over to see Bible standing nearby, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

 "Don't you dare." She glared but his smile only grew and she could feel Don attempting to suppress his own laughter. 

 "We'll don't stay up too late you two…" he pointed a finger at them, "...and no funny business."

 "Night, Boyd." Don said, lighting a new cigarette. 

 Bible shook his head, still smiling before sticking his hands in his pockets and strolling away. 

 "He's right. We should probably bed down."

 "Mmm…" He slowly ran his hand up and down her back. 

 "Want to keep me warm tonight? Gordo stole my blanket yesterday, so…" she shrugged, struggling to keep her voice light. 

 He smirked. "I can do that."

    Every single boy in the army knew who you were. They had seen your pictures and some of them even had cards of you with them before they were sent to fight. You were a pinup model and a good one at that. Some people said it wasn’t hard to be a model of your nature but it sure was different with you. The others just didn’t look like they were nearly as good. There was no need for Don to tell any of them that he knew you but it sure as hell annoyed him when he got down to it.    

    One afternoon, all the guys were hanging around a campfire. They had a big fight they were heading to the next day. It was bound to take the life out of everyone, hopefully not literally. They were preparing in their own ways, some of them looking through old letters from family and some of them eating a meal as though it would be their last.        

    Don sat against his pack when he was flipping through the letters you had sent him from the few weeks before. You had sent cards with your letters, ‘to keep him company’ you said. You were flirty even through the letters. In the face of death, you still made him laugh and flustered, a task only you could accomplish.   

    “Is that Y/L/N?” Boyd asked, looking over Man's shoulder. He let out an annoyed sigh. He had told you to take his last name but you said Collier didn’t roll off the tongue when you’re talking to your audience. Although legally you were Y/N Collier. 

    “What’s it to you?” Don grumbled. Boyd took the picture from Don’s hands despite the protests. Don tried to grab it but Boyd had already walked over out of reach and where the guys were sitting. They huddled around the picture.

    “Where the fuck did you get this?” Grady asked, snatching the picture from Boyd. It was a rather intimate picture of you. The ones that you had done had already been circulated through the camp, they had every one. None of the guys had ever seen this picture before. 

    Don stood up and took the picture back, annoyed. He put it in the envelope with the rest but the guys had already seen that there were more in there.

    “Are you serious? How many of those are unseen?!” Trini asked. Don sealed the envelope up.  

    “How did you get them?” Grady asked. 

    “She’s my fuckin wife,” he announced proudly.

    The guys laughed. They knew enough about you to know you weren’t married, you couldn’t possibly be married. If you were, every man there had their dreams crushed by Don Collier.

    “Bullshit,” Boyd called. Don shrugged.

    “I don’t have to prove it to you.” 

    “You’re right you don’t,” Trini started, “because there is no way you could be married to Y/N Y/L/N.” 

    He shrugged and pointed the envelope at the guys before putting it back in his jacket. They watched with intense eyes as they did so.

    Everyone there knew they would be trying to steal that envelope and that is why Don burned it that night. There would always be more.

    When the war ended and the guys were sent back home was a momentous occasion for  you. You hadn’t seen your husband in so long and you were ready to be with him again. Hearing his words in your mind through his letters just would never be enough. 

    You got dolled up. It was the first time in so long you had gotten dolled up to see the man you loved so you were extra about it. Really curling your hair, picking his favorite dress on you, doing your makeup like it was the last day of your life.

    You were waiting with the other families and wives and girlfriends. Your excitement was through the roof as you muttered back and forth on your heels. When you saw Don your heart lurched. He saw you at about the same time and his arms opened as you jumped into them.   

    “I missed you! Good God I missed you!” you screamed. He rocked you back and forth, laughing as he gave you a kiss and then another and then another.

    The other guys were saying hello to their families as you and Don were holding each other. It felt so good to have you back in his arms. He hadn’t really realized how much he had missed it.

    It was Boyd who saw you first. He turned around to see Don and you kissing which surprised him enough. Then he realized it was you. 

    “Shit, you weren’t lying,” he called, causing the other guys to look over at what Boyd was looking at. You gave them all a small smile.   

    “Y/N these are the dumbasses,” he told you. You gave them a smile, one that they had seen on their cards thousands of times before but this one seemed more genuine. 

    “It’s nice to meet you all. I’ve heard a lot about you, through the letters,” you said. They were surprised at how sweet you sounded. Unbelievable.

    “We thought he was joking with us when he said you were married.” You leaned into Don’s side and he gave the guys a smug look. You held up your left hand that had your wedding ring.   

    “7 years almost!” 

    “Been together much longer though,” Don explained. You shoved him but he kept his arm around you tightly which you didn’t mind.

    “Damn Don,” Trini breathed. 

    “Next time y’all don’t listen to me, think twice,” he said, pointing at them. You smiled and turned away from them.

    “They didn’t see that one picture I sent-”

    “Never. Not once.”

    “Good. Thank you.” You laughed. “I missed you.” He chuckled and kissed your forehead.