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War on Love: Germany x Reader [P3]

“Stay in formation! March!”

Your boots kicked up the dust on the ground, the fine grit getting into your lungs and causing you to cough.

The other inexperienced men struggled to keep up to the instructor as you ran through the series of obstacles. You scaled the wall, throwing yourself over and landing rather hard on your side. You winced in pain.

“Let’s get a move on, hurry up!” the instructor yelled.

You staggered to your feet and continued running. Training was brutal. As a sniper, you were trained to be stealthy and agile, not robust. You could only grip you knuckles and press on, despite your lungs painfully throbbing at every breath.

After a few hours of training, you were all put on lunch break. You limped over to the faucets nearby and turned the knob, feeling the ice cold water run over your blistering hands. Splashing some water on your face, you noticed a lean figure in the shade keenly watching you. Ludwig.

He wasn’t suspicious, was he?

You didn’t seem to struggle especially more than the others, right? You wiped the excess water off your face with the back of your hand and waved. He tipped his cap at you and turned to talk to another superior.

You let out a breath of relief that you didn’t know you were holding. It was only your second day. You won’t be found out. You can’t.

Training resumed shortly. The trainees all lined up in a single file. A sense of dread filled you. It was hand-to-hand combat. Soon enough, you stood poised in front of the instructor, who looked at least three times heavier than you. This was not going to end well.

“Remember, focus. This is a life or death situation at all times, Beckings,” the instructor said.

You nodded, the heat intensifying your feelings of dizziness.

“Show me what you’ve got. Start with basic kicks and punches.”

You tried your best to kick. The instructor easily caught your leg and threw you to the ground. The impact left you feeling stunned, the pain in your side from earlier flaring up. A shape of a fist flew at you, and you rolled just as it hit the ground. Using the little time you bought, you scrambled to your feet and kicked him from behind. It felt equivalent to kicking a brick wall.

You could see another punch coming, and you held up your arms to shield yourself. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. The blow landed hard on your face, breaking your nose and causing a major nosebleed to start running down your nose.

“Too slow, Beckings!” the instructor shouted. His voice sounded like a distant ring. You pinched your nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding, the blood already staining your shirt and your hands.

“That’s enough. Can you stand?” a familiar voice said. A hazy vision of Ludwig appeared in front of you. “There’s no need to go harder on him.”

You coughed, struggling to your feet. The bruises on your arms had worsened, and you feared looking at your legs. A strong grip caught your arm, and Ludwig slung your arm over his shoulder.

“Let’s get something to stop the bleeding.” he said, looking at you sternly.

You gulped. He did not look pleased. The walk to the medical tent felt like a lifetime. To make things worse, he was completely quiet the entire time.

He led you to some sort of medical station, and sat you down by the bench, you wincing as you did so. You watched as he retrieved some gauze from a kit and handed it to you. Taking it, you held it over your nose. He looked at you in silence.

“Are you sure you aren’t hurt anywhere else?”

“Ah, um, yeah. I’m fine,” you lied, your leg throbbing.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow at you. Strolling over to your side, he rolled up your pant leg, revealing a rather nasty bruise nearly covering your entire thigh. You turned away sheepishly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks. You could feel his internal judgment despite him not saying a word. He got up and retrieved some ice stored in the back, placed it into a bag, and tossed it to you. You caught it and placed it to your leg, feeling instant relief.

“You can trust me more, Beckings.”

“H-huh?” you stammered. “I do. It’s just that I don’t want to drag you down or appear weak.”

He sat down and rubbed his temples with his hand. “If it weren’t for your agility, you would have been pinned down in an instant. You bruise abnormally easily, too.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not daring to tell him why. As a girl, biologically you already had thinner skin to begin with. Was he angry?

“Though I have to say…” Ludwig trailed off. Your heart accelerated. Oh no.

“Y-yes?”

“-if you’re in need of vitamin C supplements, they’re in the lowest cabinet by my side of the room.”

“Oh, is that so? Haha thanks,” you said, feeling abnormally relieved. You rolled down your pant leg and got up shakily, hurriedly heading to the door.

“Hey, I can help y-”

“N-no, I’m fine!” you said, dashing out, your cheeks still on fire.

Blinking, your eyes adjusted to the darkness. You sat up, looking around for the time. It was three in the morning. The bunk across from you was empty. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you crawled out, stumbling into your boots and wrapping your blanket around your body protectively.

You got up, the stiffness in your waist returning. It was only your second night here, and you were not faring well. At all.

You cracked the door open and stepped out, noticing that the door to the rooftop was left ajar. You walked up the stairs quietly, the cool breeze tickling your cheeks. At the top, you could see a familiar silhouette with his arms leaning over the railing, looking out to the vast emptiness.

“Why are you up at this time?” you blurted out without thinking. Ludwig turned to acknowledge you.

“Oh, you’re up as well? I just get a little restless sometimes.”

You noticed a whisky bottle in his hand, its contents almost empty. You must have been staring, because he offered it to you.

“No thank you. It’s pretty rare to have alcohol here.” you commented.

He shrugged, sighing. “It’s the last one I brought from Germany.”

He downed the bottle before setting it down unsteadily. You noticed his flushed features. How long had he been drinking out here?!

“Though I’ve got to say, you’re a strange one,” he muttered under his breath. “There’s something about you that I just can’t seem to pinpoint…”

“Is that so?” you said, trying to remain calm. He wasn’t going to remember any part of this conversation anyway, so why were you still so nervous? You sought to change the topic. “Are… you going to look for your brother?”

He fell silent, looking up towards the gibbous moon in the sky. “I also joined the rebels in order to intercept some of the government’s mail. I found a letter from Gilbert actually, but I haven’t heard from him in the last two months. He’s being held in the capital’s most protected prison. There is no way to get him out and who knows how long it’ll take before he goes mad.”

“Just what did he do to piss them off so bad?”

“He killed one of the top generals, and he got caught right there, the smoke still rising from his rifle.”

You pondered. “Shouldn’t he have escaped easily with the chaos of the battlefield?”

Ludwig almost laughed and smiled bitterly. “He was just like you, a sniper. At that moment, would you have shot?”

“He was just following orders.”

He pulled himself up wearily, chucking the bottle far out into the desert. “I’d rather see you protect yourself Beckings, instead of blindly throwing your life away in the name of duty.”

He passed by you, placing his hand on your shoulder before heading back inside. You watched him go, a strange feeling pulling at the strings of your heart.

The days passed by painfully slow. By the end of the week, the instructor deemed you as fit for combat and pulled you out of training early.

“You will be assigned your duties in a week. Training is officially over,” the instructor barked. You saluted, grateful that the torture was finally over.

You walked towards the dining commons, feeling lighter than usual. A person standing in the distance waved to you.

“Hey,” Lovino said. “Congrats on getting out of hell. Must have been difficult, huh?”

“You bet it was. I’m surprised I’m still in one piece,” you replied, opening the door and walking inside.

Soon, the two of you were seated inside, food steaming in front of you. You noticed Ludwig in the far corner, eating with the other dark-haired general who you only knew as Honda. His outward persona was completely different compared to that on your second night. He was always expressionless and serious, but you wondered if he was concealing his real self for a personal reason.

“What’cha looking at?” Lovino asked, craning his neck around, food sliding off his fork.

“O-oh nothing,” you squeaked, trying hard not to blush. You shifted in your seat and picked up your fork.

Lovino glanced between you and Ludwig. “Uh…”

“Yeah?”

He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Are… you gay?”

“W-what?!” you sputtered, nearly choking on your food. “How did you even come to that conclusion?!”

He snickered amicably. “I was just curious. I mean you two are pretty damn chummy.”

“No, I’m not,” you reaffirmed. Holy shit. That was close. You grabbed the rest of your lunch and ran, avoiding the possibility of bumping into Ludwig.

“Oi, where ya going?” Lovino called.

“Sorry, I gotta go! I’ll meet you back at the field,” you called, your face on fire.

When did you start noticing Ludwig anyways?

Description
War on Love: Germany x Reader [P3]

“Stay in formation! March!”

Your boots kicked up the dust on the ground, the fine grit getting into your lungs and causing you to cough.

The other inexperienced men struggled to keep up to the instructor as you ran through the series of obstacles. You scaled the wall, throwing yourself over and landing rather hard on your side. You winced in pain.

“Let’s get a move on, hurry up!” the instructor yelled.

You staggered to your feet and continued running. Training was brutal. As a sniper, you were trained to be stealthy and agile, not robust. You could only grip you knuckles and press on, despite your lungs painfully throbbing at every breath.

After a few hours of training, you were all put on lunch break. You limped over to the faucets nearby and turned the knob, feeling the ice cold water run over your blistering hands. Splashing some water on your face, you noticed a lean figure in the shade keenly watching you. Ludwig.

He wasn’t suspicious, was he?

You didn’t seem to struggle especially more than the others, right? You wiped the excess water off your face with the back of your hand and waved. He tipped his cap at you and turned to talk to another superior.

You let out a breath of relief that you didn’t know you were holding. It was only your second day. You won’t be found out. You can’t.

Training resumed shortly. The trainees all lined up in a single file. A sense of dread filled you. It was hand-to-hand combat. Soon enough, you stood poised in front of the instructor, who looked at least three times heavier than you. This was not going to end well.

“Remember, focus. This is a life or death situation at all times, Beckings,” the instructor said.

You nodded, the heat intensifying your feelings of dizziness.

“Show me what you’ve got. Start with basic kicks and punches.”

You tried your best to kick. The instructor easily caught your leg and threw you to the ground. The impact left you feeling stunned, the pain in your side from earlier flaring up. A shape of a fist flew at you, and you rolled just as it hit the ground. Using the little time you bought, you scrambled to your feet and kicked him from behind. It felt equivalent to kicking a brick wall.

You could see another punch coming, and you held up your arms to shield yourself. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. The blow landed hard on your face, breaking your nose and causing a major nosebleed to start running down your nose.

“Too slow, Beckings!” the instructor shouted. His voice sounded like a distant ring. You pinched your nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding, the blood already staining your shirt and your hands.

“That’s enough. Can you stand?” a familiar voice said. A hazy vision of Ludwig appeared in front of you. “There’s no need to go harder on him.”

You coughed, struggling to your feet. The bruises on your arms had worsened, and you feared looking at your legs. A strong grip caught your arm, and Ludwig slung your arm over his shoulder.

“Let’s get something to stop the bleeding.” he said, looking at you sternly.

You gulped. He did not look pleased. The walk to the medical tent felt like a lifetime. To make things worse, he was completely quiet the entire time.

He led you to some sort of medical station, and sat you down by the bench, you wincing as you did so. You watched as he retrieved some gauze from a kit and handed it to you. Taking it, you held it over your nose. He looked at you in silence.

“Are you sure you aren’t hurt anywhere else?”

“Ah, um, yeah. I’m fine,” you lied, your leg throbbing.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow at you. Strolling over to your side, he rolled up your pant leg, revealing a rather nasty bruise nearly covering your entire thigh. You turned away sheepishly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks. You could feel his internal judgment despite him not saying a word. He got up and retrieved some ice stored in the back, placed it into a bag, and tossed it to you. You caught it and placed it to your leg, feeling instant relief.

“You can trust me more, Beckings.”

“H-huh?” you stammered. “I do. It’s just that I don’t want to drag you down or appear weak.”

He sat down and rubbed his temples with his hand. “If it weren’t for your agility, you would have been pinned down in an instant. You bruise abnormally easily, too.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not daring to tell him why. As a girl, biologically you already had thinner skin to begin with. Was he angry?

“Though I have to say…” Ludwig trailed off. Your heart accelerated. Oh no.

“Y-yes?”

“-if you’re in need of vitamin C supplements, they’re in the lowest cabinet by my side of the room.”

“Oh, is that so? Haha thanks,” you said, feeling abnormally relieved. You rolled down your pant leg and got up shakily, hurriedly heading to the door.

“Hey, I can help y-”

“N-no, I’m fine!” you said, dashing out, your cheeks still on fire.

Blinking, your eyes adjusted to the darkness. You sat up, looking around for the time. It was three in the morning. The bunk across from you was empty. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you crawled out, stumbling into your boots and wrapping your blanket around your body protectively.

You got up, the stiffness in your waist returning. It was only your second night here, and you were not faring well. At all.

You cracked the door open and stepped out, noticing that the door to the rooftop was left ajar. You walked up the stairs quietly, the cool breeze tickling your cheeks. At the top, you could see a familiar silhouette with his arms leaning over the railing, looking out to the vast emptiness.

“Why are you up at this time?” you blurted out without thinking. Ludwig turned to acknowledge you.

“Oh, you’re up as well? I just get a little restless sometimes.”

You noticed a whisky bottle in his hand, its contents almost empty. You must have been staring, because he offered it to you.

“No thank you. It’s pretty rare to have alcohol here.” you commented.

He shrugged, sighing. “It’s the last one I brought from Germany.”

He downed the bottle before setting it down unsteadily. You noticed his flushed features. How long had he been drinking out here?!

“Though I’ve got to say, you’re a strange one,” he muttered under his breath. “There’s something about you that I just can’t seem to pinpoint…”

“Is that so?” you said, trying to remain calm. He wasn’t going to remember any part of this conversation anyway, so why were you still so nervous? You sought to change the topic. “Are… you going to look for your brother?”

He fell silent, looking up towards the gibbous moon in the sky. “I also joined the rebels in order to intercept some of the government’s mail. I found a letter from Gilbert actually, but I haven’t heard from him in the last two months. He’s being held in the capital’s most protected prison. There is no way to get him out and who knows how long it’ll take before he goes mad.”

“Just what did he do to piss them off so bad?”

“He killed one of the top generals, and he got caught right there, the smoke still rising from his rifle.”

You pondered. “Shouldn’t he have escaped easily with the chaos of the battlefield?”

Ludwig almost laughed and smiled bitterly. “He was just like you, a sniper. At that moment, would you have shot?”

“He was just following orders.”

He pulled himself up wearily, chucking the bottle far out into the desert. “I’d rather see you protect yourself Beckings, instead of blindly throwing your life away in the name of duty.”

He passed by you, placing his hand on your shoulder before heading back inside. You watched him go, a strange feeling pulling at the strings of your heart.

The days passed by painfully slow. By the end of the week, the instructor deemed you as fit for combat and pulled you out of training early.

“You will be assigned your duties in a week. Training is officially over,” the instructor barked. You saluted, grateful that the torture was finally over.

You walked towards the dining commons, feeling lighter than usual. A person standing in the distance waved to you.

“Hey,” Lovino said. “Congrats on getting out of hell. Must have been difficult, huh?”

“You bet it was. I’m surprised I’m still in one piece,” you replied, opening the door and walking inside.

Soon, the two of you were seated inside, food steaming in front of you. You noticed Ludwig in the far corner, eating with the other dark-haired general who you only knew as Honda. His outward persona was completely different compared to that on your second night. He was always expressionless and serious, but you wondered if he was concealing his real self for a personal reason.

“What’cha looking at?” Lovino asked, craning his neck around, food sliding off his fork.

“O-oh nothing,” you squeaked, trying hard not to blush. You shifted in your seat and picked up your fork.

Lovino glanced between you and Ludwig. “Uh…”

“Yeah?”

He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Are… you gay?”

“W-what?!” you sputtered, nearly choking on your food. “How did you even come to that conclusion?!”

He snickered amicably. “I was just curious. I mean you two are pretty damn chummy.”

“No, I’m not,” you reaffirmed. Holy shit. That was close. You grabbed the rest of your lunch and ran, avoiding the possibility of bumping into Ludwig.

“Oi, where ya going?” Lovino called.

“Sorry, I gotta go! I’ll meet you back at the field,” you called, your face on fire.

When did you start noticing Ludwig anyways?