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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

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SFW Alphabet—Donny Donowitz | IB headcanon

Link to my IB masterlist

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Affection is Donny’s weakness. Whether it be giving or receiving he is always wanting to touch you in some way. This could be his arm around your shoulders while Aldo is debriefing the squad, your head on his shoulder by the campfire, or light kisses to the forehead before a stressful situation.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Being friends with Donny is basically signing up for chaos. He’s the type who would suggest doing stupid shit and you have to follow in order to ensure he doesn’t kill himself doing it. Laughing to the point of ab cramps is the best way to describe moments with Donny as your bestie.

The friendship started before you two shipped off to France. You were probably the squad’s nurse or high ranking next to him and Aldo that you guys interacted more than with the Basterds. The friendship sorta naturally happened to the point it’s hard to even put a date on when it started.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Physical touch is the mans love language so of course he likes to cuddle. Holding you in his arms with the radio playing while you two doze in and out of sleep is the best feeling in the world. “Doll,” he’ll make grabby hands at you, “c’mere let me hold ya.” He’s the big spoon obviously, but also he likes when he’s laying on his back and you’re curled into his side.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Hell yeah Donny wants to settle down—the literal dream for him is to own a home with you in a nice area where you two get to grow old together. You two would likely run the barber shop or another business and be the couple who give back to the community.

Donny, surprisingly, is a descent cook. Really he specializes in certain dishes that are family recipes. And best believe he can stir up some smacking pasta. You never have to worry about a messy home or kitchen because the Army embedded it into his brain that orderliness and cleanliness is essential…..except on Sundays. That’s y’all’s break day.

E = Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d rather scalp himself than end things with you. If anyone is gonna break hearts, Donny will sacrifice his own to prevent you from experiencing it.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Being a bachelor was honestly what Donny expected he’d be all his life. Yeah he dated and had flings but never did it occur to him he’d want to settle down and build a future with someone. When you came along it was like he had an awakening. Immediately he saw the house with a yard full of animals, kids running around the premises and a ring on his finger. After you two got engaged Donny wasn’t quick to rush a wedding especially since you two had just returned to the states. He wanted to work as much as he could to give you the wedding of your dreams.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Despite being a giant beefy man that he is, Donny is very gentle. His touch is like feathers and always carefully handled as to not hurt you. Anytime you’re sad or distress his approach with you is cautious. Asking questions like, “Do you need to talk or want to be alone?” Whatever you decide he’ll respect even if it means walking away to give you space.

H = Hugs (do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Are you kidding this man lives and breathes for hugs. He gives the best hugs of the Basterd (Wicki coming a close second) so you take any chance you can to hug him. Donny won’t even hesitate when you ask for one or he’ll simply bring you into an embrace he notices you’re under distress.

I = I love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)

Considering he realized he loved you in the middle of a legit war, Donny probably said it quick. And by quick I mean right when it hit him like a truck. You two had been best friends by that point to he was worried to an extent it would crumble before his eyes. But to his utter surprise you said, “Oh, Donny, are you blind? I’ve been waiting for you to say something forever! I love you too, you rascal.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Okay so while he hardly gets jealous when the Basterds or his friends playfully flirt with you, he WILL become a different person when someone he hates tries to swoon you. Of course he’s confident in y’all’s relationship and knows you’d never betray him, he just fucking hates when an asshole attempts to get your attention. “Jealous again, baby?” “NO……maybe.”

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses with Donny are best described as ‘cheeky’. He’ll send you a smirk with eyes reading, ‘Imma kiss you right now,’ before smacking his lips against yours or your cheek before running away. You can’t help but giggle when he does because it’s so adorable and always puts a smile on your face. Your lips and jaw are his favorite places to kiss, however, when he’s feeling frisky Donny will trail his mouth down your neck and collarbones. For him, the Sargent loves to be kissed on the lips as well. He’ll never admit it but Donny is a sucker for when you kiss his chest.

L = Little ones (how are they around children?)

Donny is amazing with children. It’s one of the things you love about him. Even if you two do not plan to have children he loves to spend time with nieces/nephews and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the type to teach the kids in your neighborhood how to play baseball. He’d also offer discount and free haircuts to the children and teens who cannot afford one. If you do have/adopt kids, then expect Donny to be the best father ever. Always attending their school functions and sport games (most likely baseball) and taking your kids to the zoo, museum, Red Sox games, etc. He is their #1 supporter and will do whatever possible to make them happy.

M = Morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

During the war y’all’s mornings started bright and early at the ass crack of dawn. Donny would be the first one up considering he was in charge of getting the Basterds into formation, but he’d make sure to give you a kiss on the head as a good morning before leaving. When there is the rare chance of staying in an inn or motel then he’s all over you with cuddles and waking you up with kisses.

Back home in the states Donny is the type who will put the coffee on the pot as soon as he wakes up to get you a coffee before your eyes open. Then if he has time he’ll run to the cafe by the corner of your street to get your favorite breakfast. “Is that what I think it is?” “Only the best for my baby this fine Sunday morning.”

N = Night (how are nights spent with them?)

I can see Donny as a night owl. Really it was a result of the late nights overseas where he had to keep watch of the camp. The habit carried over when he returned home in which he would stay up listening to the radio or reading a book. You’d have to force him to come to bed—-often making him a warm cup of milk or run a bath. But once his head hit the pillow mans is out like a light and holding you to his chest.

#donny donowitz #donny donowitz x y/n #donny donowitz headcanon #donny donowitz x reader #donny donowitz imagine #Eli Roth #inglorious basterds fanfiction #inglourious basterds #inglorious basterds headcanon #inglorious basterds imagine #inglorious basterds x reader #inglourious basterds headcanons #quentin tarantino characters

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multifandomfanfic · 2 years

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James Bond

Paring: Cliff Booth x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, subtle praise kink, oral (m receiving), older guy young girl trope

Summary: Whose idea was it to hire a stunt double as a lead? It was an utterly awful, unfathomable idea. That was, until you got to know this mysterious lead… then, things become so much more.

Word Count: 6.1k

As a child in Los Angeles, all I ever wanted to be was a movie star. There was something endearing about watching people move on television and knowing that every step, twirl, kiss, and line was meticulously planned.

They made it look so natural, as if they came up with it on the fly.

I wished I could be like them. I wanted to accomplish what they could with minimal effort. I desired to be interviewed by a handsome man who would inquire as to how I was able to do what I do. I remember lying on my aunt's hardwood floor as she's the only one in the family with a television. My stomach pressed against the ground, twirling my hair in my fingers as my gaze wandered over the familiar faces dancing across the screen.

Movies are an untapped market that will undoubtedly boom in the coming decades. I wanted to be a part of the revolution. I aspired to be a forerunner. I wanted to be remembered as an influential woman who had a significant impact on cinema for decades after my death.

Now I found myself in the 1970s. An era that will be remembered for its fashion, dances, and phenomenal impact on cinema. Bond movies were at an all-time high, and the stereotype of womanizers was in full swing.

“Cliff Booth?!”

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Cliff Booth?! I tightened my grip on the poor piece of paper, causing it to crinkle under my grip.

“But… he’s a stunt double?!”

“Well ever since he beat up those hippies that broke into Rick Dalton’s house his name has gained quite a bit of traction in Hollywood.”

The director spoke with a country accent that was thicker than tar. He was well-versed in the land of westerns, and I had no doubt that this casting was at least partially his idea.

I scoffed. He was joking, right?

“Oh come on David… he’s a sorry sack of shit and we both know it…”

David took a long drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the floor and crushing it under his boot, twisting the embers into the dry ground.

“Y/N, you know the whole womanizer idea is hot shit right now…”

“There’s thousands of studs in Hollywood, David… Thousands of studs who are also good actors.”

I crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it to the ground below me. Our attention was drawn to the paper ball, which we followed with our eyes until it stood motionless on the dusty ground.

“He better keep his shit together…”

I tried to come across as intimidating by speaking through my teeth and straightening my back. Unfortunately, my efforts were not fruitful, and David saw right through me.

The bright California sun glinted off his blue irises as he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest in over exaggerated annoyance.

“Y/N… he’s a professional-”

“They say he killed his own wife!”

“I do not give two shits about what my actors do off set!… Frankly, as long as they’re able to give one hundred fifty percent in front of the camera they’re considered gold in my book.”

I rolled my eyes, chewing on my bottom lip in an attempt to keep from losing my cool.

This was a completely ridiculous idea. Casting a stunt double as an attractive, romantic, womanizer lead was a ludicrous notion.

I swallowed my rage and crossed my arms over my chest, digging my dull nails into my biceps until my brain forced me to stop due to the assault on my nerves. The pain was harsh, but it successfully distracted my mind from the problem at hand for mere moments.

“Look Y/N… you’re young-”

“I’m not a rookie.”

“I never said you were… But I’ve been in this business for longer than you’ve been alive and I assure you I know what I am doing.”

I despised how every man over 30 addressed me as if I were a complete moron who didn't know their right from their left. I wasn't an idiot. I've been in the industry for a few years now, and I make it a point to learn everything I can before diving into something new.

I know exactly what I'm doing.

I simply bit back my rage. I couldn't let a single bad decision ruin my chances of making it big.

“Couldn’t you have at least gotten Rick Dalton?... I mean, he’s ancient and practically insignificant nowadays but at least he can act.”

David grimaced. In his youth, he was a big fan of Bounty Law, and hearing me, an inexperienced idiot, bash his favorite actor damaged a very important part of himself.

“Rick Dalton is a cowboy… Not a womanizer… Plus, I’m sure he’s busy.”

“What does Cliff Booth have that the thousands of super talented Hollywood hunks don’t?”

David tilted his head slightly forward.

“He’s an untapped market… people know him as Rick Dalton’s stunt double but if he’s also good as an actor…”

David smirked and nodded devilishly, raising a finger.

“Well… then that’s a conversation piece.”

He dropped his arm, returning it to its original position across his chest.

“Besides… he’s got a look that could make all of us filthy rich.”

I pursed my lips.

“Sure… whatever.”

“Just do the goddamn movie with him. I don't give a shit if you two never speak to each other after we wrap this up but at least act like you’re interested.”

“Well… that is my job.”

David chuckled, a crooked smile forming on his face.

“Cliff will be here soon… Be on your best behavior.”

I rolled my eyes nonchalantly.

“Whatever… I’ll be in my trailer if you need me.”

I said my goodbyes and made my way across the small trailer lot to my new home. Because the cast of this film was small, only a few trailers were required to accompany the small number of cast members.

As usual, the California weather was pleasant. The sun was warm but not oppressive. The gentle breezes that blew through the city were the perfect breath of fresh air in the midst of a hectic day.

The weather here was always perfect.

The sun glistened off the side of my metal trailer, reflecting directly into my eyes and forcing me to cover my face with the back of my hand to protect my retinas from the rays.

As I flung open the door to my trailer, a particularly cool breath of fresh air tousled my hair. I sighed heavily, my chest collapsing.

Let’s hope he doesn’t screw this up.

I mean, who’s idea was it to cast a stunt double as the lead role?

David.

In a temporary fit of rage, I slammed the door shut. A loud bang erupted, shaking the entire trailer.

“I swear if he messes this up for me…”

I clenched my teeth. This was going to be my big break. This movie was going to be a huge hit! A spicy romance film about a womanizer man and a younger girl would undoubtedly make waves in Hollywood, especially with the Bond universe reaching an all time high.

I'd be right in the thick of it. People will be talking about this movie for decades to come. How it was technically incorrect, how it was messed up in so many ways, but they'd go home and watch it anyway. Because it would be impossible to deny that they're tempted.

David made a wise choice in giving me a chance. But a stunt double? He's only good for jumping off horses and trying not to get hurt!

I take a deep breath and close my eyes to enjoy the sensation of sweet oxygen filling my lungs. David is not a moron. Cliff will be fine, I'm sure. I couldn't let a minor inconvenience derail my promising career.

“Ugh.”

I groaned, collapsing onto my stiff couch, which provided little comfort in my time of need. The hinges groaned as they suffocated under my weight.

I pressed my cheek against the scratchy fabric, my cheekbone digging into the surface as my face compressed to meld against the couch.

I should rehearse my lines. I should go for a walk. I should do something productive.

I couldn't make myself move from where I was, my front pressed against the rock solid couch. The trailer was poorly insulated, and the interior was musty and sticky. I could see dust particles floating through the air, with not a care in the world.

“Hey Dave, how’s it going?”

Outside my trailer, I heard a man's voice I didn't recognize.

Was he already here?! How long have I been relaxing?

I sat up, clambering to the tiny window on the side of the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of my costar.

I leaned in, my hands on either side of the circular window, my face almost touching the glass. I stared at him as if I'd never seen a man before.

He stood tall on the dusty ground, clad in dark blue jeans and a bright yellow button-up shirt. His eyes were obscured by dark sunglasses that reflected David's image onto them.

As much as I despised admitting it, he had a look, an iconic look. He carried himself as if he were the only man who mattered. Even if you weren't a fan of the macho older man look, his confidence was undeniably impressive.

David tipped his cowboy hat to him, giving him a proper welcome full of good old-fashioned southern hospitality.

Cliff's voice was much deeper and stronger than David's. His tone cut through the air like a knife, and I could clearly hear what he was saying. I couldn't make out David’s words. He sounded like he was mumbling under his breath.

To be fair, they were quite a distance away from me.

They conversed as if they were old friends reuniting after a long absence. Their postures were relaxed, with their hands lazily placed on their hips and their pelvises cocked to the side.

“I’m excited to do this movie David…”

“Thank you for the opportunity…”

“I love your work…”

He was kissing up, and rightly so. When I first met David, I did the same thing. I knew I needed to win over the director, or else I'd be in for a bumpy ride.

“Sure! I’d be willing to start filming later today!”

Huh?! What did he say?!

Oh God, I needed to prepare myself.

Cliff gave David a nod, before turning on his heels and making his way towards my trailer.

Oh wait… why is he coming over?

His hair fluttered in the gentle breeze as he strutted confidently towards me. I crouched quickly to avoid his gaze.

Don’t panic.

I crawled across the floor, scrambling for stray pieces of my script that were strewn about. The papers kept slipping from my grasp, fluttering to the floor just beyond my reach.

“Fuck!”

I exclaimed, hurriedly gathering the papers in my grasp and clutching them to my chest, crinkling them in the process.

I could hear him, his loud footfalls echoing just outside my trailer.

I lunged to the couch, settling into a comfortable sitting position with the few papers I could gather in the limited time I was given. I went through them. They were all scrambled, chunks from various scenes at scattered points throughout the film.

He knocked, sending a brief shock through the trailer. I gulped.

“Come in.”

I said with all the assurance I could muster. Hopefully, he won't think too much about the nerves that were covered by my phony confidence.

He swung the door open using its flimsy hinges. I glanced at him through my lashes, pretending to be surprised but not overjoyed.

He leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Oh… hello…”

I gave him a quick smile before returning my attention to the script in my hands.

“Boss told me to tell you that we’ll be filming later today… if that’s alright…”

I pursed my lips and nodded, not looking him in the eyes.

“That’s fine… What time is he thinking?”

“In like… two hours maybe.”

“Okay… Thanks for telling me.”

I pretended to be reading the script in front of me. It was the scene in which the two characters were in a club, hitting it off.

It was unmistakably a slow burn.

I was expecting him to leave. He'd told me everything there was to say. What else could he possibly want?

He pushed himself off the door frame and took a long step forward, getting halfway between me and the door.

“You look like you take yourself too seriously… Am I right?”

Excuse me?! I scoffed, not looking him in the eyes in fear my nerves would consume me.

I'm not sure why I was so worried. Nerves didn't look good on me.

“You really just say whatever’s on your mind, don’t you?”

He chuckled.

“Sometimes…”

His presence was oppressive. As I read the page in front of me for the tenth time, I could feel his eyes boring into my skull.

Okay, this is ridiculous.

I raised my head to meet his stare.

I could feel his gaze on me despite his sunglasses. My heart started racing. Even when he didn't want to be, he was super intimidating. He exuded dominance, which would undoubtedly come in handy during filming.

“Are you gonna leave now?”

I inquired as politely as I could. Unfortunately, I came across as bratty rather than kind. Cliff chuckled through a closed mouth.

“I think I’d rather stay here and stare at you a little longer.”

Now he was just messing with me.

“Fine… I don’t really care.”

I did care. I very much did care.

I couldn't think because he was standing over me. I was struggling to breathe. He had a hold on me just by being in the same room with me.

“Why are you even here? You’re a stunt double.”

I asked nonchalantly, my gaze fixed on the words on my script. I'm not sure why I said that. I only needed to talk to get my mind off the crushing weight of his presence.

“Boss said I have a good look…”

I could tell he was smirking. His tone was far too arrogant.

“I’m sure that stroked your ego.”

I flipped the page, focusing my attention on the script's words. It was the first scene.

It might be beneficial to take a close look at this.

“You’ve got fire in you… I like it.”

Oh, please. I could see where this was going. Did he think I wouldn't notice how his voice changed to add a sensual undertone to the conversation?

“Thank you… now please leave before I vomit all over your fifty cent boots.”

I wanted him out of my trailer so I could breathe normally again. He was staring at me like a hawk, and it was getting annoying and uncomfortable.

Cliff scoffed.

“Alright… I’ll leave you alone honey.”

My heart skipped a beat when I heard the pet name.

He turned and walked towards the door, his steps rattling the trailer slightly everytime his foot came into contact with the ground.

I let out a heavy sigh as he closed the door behind him, my chest collapsing with relief.

I lowered myself to the ground and began rummaging through the papers to compile the first scene. I was successful in organizing the papers into their respective scenes.

I read the first scene several times, making sure I knew every line from beginning to end. I even spoke aloud, rehearsing what I would say and how I would approach the dialogue in the most natural way.

I'd done enough research on David to know that he prefers to be free most of the time, which is why his films are so iconic. He believes in his actors and allows them to do almost anything they want while saying their lines as long as it appears natural.

So, it was my responsibility to put together a rough idea of my staging.

I couldn't help but look over to the bar scene to see what I was in for. I read it once, twice, and three times. I couldn't stop myself from skimming over the words.

I was in for a wild ride. This scene was completely wild.

A loud slam on my door startled me out of my daze.

“We’re filming now! Get on set!”

“I’ll be right out!”

I assumed we'd start the day with the first scene because I hadn't received any information to the contrary.

I took a few moments to myself. Before exhaling, I took a deep breath and stretched my arms above my head.

“Okay… let’s do this.”

As I approached the set, I noticed that the props and locations appeared to correspond with the first scene.

Thank God.

“Alright… First scene… get ready you guys.”

David addressed us from behind the camera, which was pointed directly at the set. I lowered my gaze, smoothing the wrinkles in my costume. Fortunately, I had not completely ruined the dress with sweat.

Cliff was dressed in the same outfit as before.

Was that his costume?

I suppose it did fit the character.

In a sense, the character reflected his own personality.

“Alright you guys… you know I’m a fan of improv so just do whatever the hell you feel like… just keep the lines the same… don’t leave anything out.”

David was a big fan of small groups as well. He didn't hire anyone unless he absolutely needed to. As a result, he was the sole operator of the camera.

He was truly iconic. This method of execution should not work... but David manages to make everything work despite the odds.

Cliff was prepared, standing in place, waiting for his chance to shine.

“Places…”

“Oh… right!”

I exclaimed, completely absorbed in my own thoughts. I walked onto the set, taking a random position and re-enacting the blocking I'd imagined in my head.

Only now would I have to work off of Cliff, making the job even more difficult.

I’ll be alright.

I can do this.

The first scene went very smoothly, we only needed one take to get it perfect.

“You guys are on fire! Alright, how about the club scene?!”

The club scene?

However, we were in the middle of the desert, where our characters were supposed to meet for the first time. It was extremely unlikely, but I had faith in David. When it comes to romance films, the more absurd, the better. People are drawn to a plot that they have never heard of before.

Besides, the entire point of this film was to be unlikely, almost impossible. A film in which critics will make ridiculous assumptions about hidden metaphors decades later.

“How are we gonna do the club scene when we’re in the middle of the desert, boss?”

Cliff was thinking the same thing as me.

David bit his bottom lip and gazed at the ground, thinking. He was a bit short-sighted for a theatrical genius at times.

“Well… let’s just do the post club scene shall we?... Cliff’s character is supposed to be broke despite how he presents himself… So using one of the trailers will suffice.”

Oh God… the post club scene meaning the scene where it is heavily hinted at that we-

“Sure… I’m good with that.”

Of course Cliff didn’t mind… he got to kiss a girl old enough to be his daughter.

“Y/N?”

David turned his eyes to me, as if he needed confirmation that everything was fine on my end.

I flushed bright red.

“Oh… yeah, sure… that’s fine… but, um… I didn’t really get a chance to look over my lines for that scene… and I-I think I need a different costume.”

David nodded.

“You’re right… let’s wait for an hour or so, so the sun can fully set… and so you guys can prepare.”

“Sure! Sounds great!”

I agreed a little too enthusiastically before hastening my way to my trailer. I had no doubt they'd be very suspicious of my rushed manor.

The trust was, I had gone over that scene twenty times before. I knew all of the lines backwards and forwards. I had spent time thinking about how much I would despise having to kiss him and pretend to be deeply in love with him.

That’s why I was blushing… because I was nervous… and I hated him.

I changed my outfit and did my own makeup.

Makeup and costume people were another thing David considered pointless. He was always saying how he preferred the actors to choose their own costumes based on what they thought was best, and to do their own makeup. He wanted his characters to be real people, people who were probably not great at clothing design or elaborate makeup techniques.

Fortunately, he offered to pay me more since I was basically doing all the work myself.

I must have done my makeup ten times to avoid having to think about the impending doom that was coming much sooner than expected. In the little mirror hanging on the wall of my trailer, I put it on, then took it off, then put it on again, then fixed every single minor error before taking it completely off.

As the sun began to set, I could see the light fading from my trailer and feel the sudden unease that struck me every time my mind wandered.

I swiped the eyeliner against my skin.

“Fuck.”

I muttered under my breath as I erased it all away with a wipe.

I should probably put it on for good, as filming time is quickly approaching.

I was about to apply my final stroke of eyeshadow when I heard a knock on the door and a voice telling me to come outside. I finished quickly, taking a deep breath, hoping for calm rather than preparation.

When I stepped outside, I felt naked and exposed in front of two fully grown men. Unfortunately, the short red dress I chose left little room for the imagination.

“Alright… I think we’d better use Cliff’s trailer since I’m sure it’s a mess.”

Dave and Cliff both laughed at David's terrible joke. I remained silent, only offering a small smile to indicate that I was listening.

I wasn't paying attention. I was thinking about how much this was going to suck, at least for me anyway.

I thought of how much it would suck to have Cliff feeling me up and pretending I enjoyed it.

Because I’d definitely hate it.

I’d hate how his rough hands would feel against my soft skin.

Ew. I don’t like that I had that thought.

The scene was… a big mess of emotions. I wasn’t sure what exactly I should feel at any given moment. My entire mine was plagued with scattered thoughts that would lead to unintentional and completely ludicrous places.

By the time it was completely over, my face was flushed bright red and my heart was beating out of my chest.

I slammed my trailer door shut, heaving breaths of anxiety.

Oh God… that was too much.

The way he was touching me… I wanted to hate it so bad. I hated myself for allowing myself to enjoy it.

The worst part of it was… we needed more than one take.

Which meant I had to feel him touching me in every place the sun touched. I had to feel his lips against mine and try to pretend I was seconds away from moaning into his mouth while David stood behind a camera and recorded us.

God I wish we could just do those things in private.

No, no I don’t. What am I talking about?! I definitely don’t want that.

He was in my trailer, standing in the frame while I was busy agonizing over my thoughts. I didn’t notice him at first.

“Oh! Um… I’m sorry I didn’t see you there…”

I swallowed my anxiety, my gaze fixed on the ground below me as my insides shook violently, plaguing me with heavy waves of unease.

He knew what I was thinking.

He knew exactly what I was thinking.

How could he not?

“I’m just gonna cut to the chase because I think you know what all of this is about.”

I did.

I knew exactly what all of this was about.

I knew exactly where this was going.

And I couldn’t help but grow wet at the mere thought of where this night would undoubtedly lead.

“You were gettin’ antsy in that last scene.”

He placed a curled finger under my chin, forcing my head upwards to meet his gaze.

“Waddya have to say about that?”

I gulped.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do know…”

“I…”

I sounded pitiful. Cliff was obviously a man who knew exactly what he wanted, so I expected him to become frustrated and antsy. Instead, he seemed amused, finding my discomfort humorous.

He scoffed.

“Alright honey…”

My lower abdomen fluttered at the pet name.

“Since you don’t wanna talk I guess I’ll have to work it outta ya.”

His voice dropped to just barely above a sensual whisper, his newfound tone making my stomach flip upside down.

He smashed my lips into mine without hesitation, pushing me backwards with extreme force until my knees smacked against the couch, knocking me into a sitting position until I was eye level with his large belt buckle.

His hand caressed my jaw, tilting it upwards to meet his crushing gaze.

Cliff’s calloused fingertips grazed sensually against my lips, raising goosebumps along my spine. He took his time, ensuring I was aching by the time he was done getting under my skin.

“God you’re beautiful…”

He mumbled almost incoherently.

“You wanna suck my cock babygirl?… you want me to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours?”

I swallowed, my throat becoming constricted with fear.

I clenched my thighs together in an attempt to relieve the ache in my core.

“Speak up honey… otherwise I’ll leave while you’re aching.”

I took a shaky breath, reaching up with trembling hands to undo his belt.

Cliff dropped his hand to the side, releasing his tender grip on my jaw.

The metal buckle continued to slip from my shaky hands. My nerves transformed the simple task into a nearly impossible process.

“Don’t be nervous…”

My cheeks flushed red as I tried to keep my eyes on the rusty golden buckle so I didn’t become intimidated.

“Hey. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

He demanded, his voice becoming firm yet keeping the mumbling tone.

I gathered my courage, trialing my eyes upwards to glance at him through my lashes.

“Don’t be nervous… after I fill you pretty mouth with my thick cock I’ll make you cum so hard your whole body will be begging me for more.”

I clenched my jaw, tearing my eyes away from him to fully undo his belt and slip it through the loops with a loud whoosh.

I felt his large cock growing hard through his jeans as my hands gently grazed over his clothed erection. My mouth watered as I unbuttoned his pants and dragged the denim down his muscular thick thighs.

I palmed him through the thin fabric of his boxers, eliciting a low moan from the back of Cliff’s throat as he threw his head backwards and exposed his adams apple.

His hands found their place on my scalp, tangling his fingers into my locks.

“Put my fucking cock in your mouth before I make you regret it…”

His grip tightened in my hair, pulling the strands from my scalp. I couldn’t help but groan at the pain, pushing the noises down into the pit of my stomach.

“No teasing.”

He demanded, his voice now breathy and thick with anticipation.

“Okay…”

I murmured timidly, swallowing my nerves as I hooked a finger in the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down his legs until they pooled around his ankles.

I was eye level with his cock, which was incredibly thick and unmistakingly the most beautiful dick I’d ever seen in my entire life.

Which wasn’t saying much, as I wasn’t the most experienced person on set.

The aching in my cunt grew when I was able to fully take in his glorious cock, and began thinking of how it would feel inside of me, fantastically stretching my walls.

My face was burning hot with desire as I tenderly grasped his length, giving it a few gentle pumps.

Cliff sighed deeply, loosening his grip on my hair once he realized I would gladly take control.

“You’re beautiful Cliff…”

I wasn’t sure what I should say now that I was so close to having his cock inside of me, but I figured he’d appreciate a gentle compliment.

Cliff scoffed.

“Thank you honey… you’re not too bad yourself.”

His line was painfully cliche, but I didn’t mind. This situation was making me far too aroused to care about a cliche.

I took his cock into my mouth, immediately thrusting it towards the back of my throat with eagerness.

Cliff groaned and moaned as I bobbed my head along his length, the pleasure filled sounds adding to the pooling wetness in my damp panties.

His grip tightened, not in frustration, but in the sheer pleasure of my warm mouth bobbing along his veiny cock.

“Fuck… you’re such a good girl.”

He gasped in between strangled moans.

I was already a mess and he had hardly touched me. My heart was pounding. My face was flushed bright red. My panties were soaking wet and my cunt was aching to the point of pain.

I was antsy, antsy to feel him throbbing inside of me.

Cliff threw his head downwards, his eyes boring into my skull as his strong grip assisted me in bobbing my head along him.

His tip was hitting the back of my throat. I almost gagged as he began to buck his hips into my mouth.

Tears of pleasure were forming at the corners of my eyes, and a few escaped my eyelids and began to roll down my cheeks.

I glanced up at him through my thick lashes, his crushing stare making my heart flutter with anticipation.

His lips were wet with saliva, his teeth clenched, the muscles on his jaw protruding from the sides of his cheeks.

It filled me with pride to know I had such a profound effect on him. I wrapped my hands around his muscular thighs to steady myself as I began to take his cock with my urgency.

“Oh my… fuck… you’re such a slut for me.”

Cliff's hips were thrusting aggressively into my mouth, the tip of my nose brushing against his happy trail.

“You’re gonna make me cum so hard honey… I can’t wait to feel your sweet little pussy around my throbbing cock.”

His length began to twitch in my mouth, the salty taste of precum lingering on my tongue.

With a few more thrusts, Cliff was falling over the edge into the realm of pleasure. His chest collapsed as he unloaded his cum into the back of my throat, his grip on my hair suddenly loosening as he reached his high.

I bobbed my head twice more along his dick to help him ride out his orgasm before removing my mouth with a pop.

Cliff was breathing heavily, his chest heaving with gasps as he came down to earth after an intense orgasm.

He dropped his hand to his side, relaxing his body as we both mentally prepared ourselves for what was yet to come.

“You ready for me honey?”

He asked, a big stupid smile plastered on his smug face.

I gulped, resting my hands in my lap as I nodded my head meekly.

Cliff brought his hands to the front of his shirt, glancing down at the buttons as he began to undo them.

With every button, he exposed his chiseled body, glistening with sweat.

Cliff dropped the fabric to the floor with a soft thud, now fully naked and exposed in front of my inexperienced eyes. Being fully clothed in front of him added an additional layer of anticipation to the situation.

“Stand… let me undress you.”

He commanded, and I followed his orders, standing on my shaky knees.

Cliff glued his eyes to my chest, grazing his fingertips sensually over my collarbone, raising goosebumps on my skin.

He moved his hand to my shoulder, pushing my spaghetti strap down until it hung limply. He did the same with the other side until my dress was hanging loosely on my body.

I stared at the floor as Cliff grasped onto the deep neckline of my dress, pulling it down until I was dressed only in my underwear. The cool breeze hardened my nipples.

I gasped as Cliff connected his warm mouth with the sensitive skin on my neck, raising my hands to gently rest on top of his shoulders.

He kissed and nipped on my skin. He grasped my hips and tugged my forward until our bodies were pressed flush together. I could feel the warmth radiating off of his perfect body.

Cliff kicked off his shoes, pushing me backward as an indication that it was time for me to lay down.

I followed his instruction, finding a comfortable place on my stiff couch as he settled in between my legs, hovering over me, his lips moving expertly against my neck.

I tangled my hands in his hair, squeezing my eyes shut and dropped my jaw as his lips hit every single sweet spot on my neck and collarbone.

“Cliff… please… I need you.”

Cliff smirked against my skin.

“Beg for it… I wanna hear you beg for my cock.”

He murmured against the crook of my neck, his body pressed firmly into mine, his cock so close to my aching cunt.

“Please Cliff… I need you to fuck me.”

“Keep going…”

I gasped as he bit a patch of sensitive skin on my collarbone.

“Please Cliff… my pussy is aching so bad for you… I need you to fill me up… I need your cock throbbing inside of me.”

I begged hard, not caring about how utterly pitiful I sounded.

“Alright honey… I’ll give you what you want.”

He lined himself up with my entrance, pushing himself inside of me and stretching my walls to the max.

I moaned loudly, grasping onto his hair for leverage.

He began pounding into me, hardly giving me any time to adjust to his thick girth.

He snapped his hips forward, his pelvis smashing into mine as he thrusted mercilessly into my aching cunt.

“Fuck Y/N… you feel so fucking good… you’re so wet.”

Cliff’s voice was just as fucked out as mine. Either he was truly breathless, or he knew how much his strained gasps drove me crazy.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, giving him a complete new angle to attack my cunt.

Tears of pleasure began to return to my eyes as his thick tip slammed against my g spot with every eager thrust.

Cliff removed his face from the crook of my neck to stare into my fucked out face. He was taking in every single feature and relishing in the fact that he was completely ruining me.

“Oh God you’re such a fucking slut for me… I love it…”

I furrowed my eyebrows as I became so incredibly close to the edge.

“Cliff… I’m gonna cum.”

I was crying tears of pleasure as his girth continued to slam into my g spot.

“Look at me honey… I wanna watch your face as you cum all over my cock.”

I held eye contact as his last few thrusts made me topple over the edge, unleashing my orgasm with a strained moan.

It hit me like a freight train, knocking the breath out of me as my lungs collapsed with glorious pleasure.

Cliff followed shortly after, our combined juices dripping onto the couch below as he gave a few more thrusts to help both of us ride out our orgasms.

We maintained eye contact until we both of our hearts had begun to beat normally once more.

I felt… good, fulfilled, happy. That was the greatest orgasm I had ever experienced in my entire life. I was on cloud nine.

Cliff pulled out of me, a strand of cum attaching my body to his.

He crawled downwards until he was in between my legs, burying his face in between my thighs as he lapped up our combined juices.

I sighed with post orgasm pleasure as I allowed Cliff’s expert mouth to clean me up.

He climbed off the couch when he was satisfied with his work, immediately beginning to redress.

I stared at the ceiling, a stupidly big smile on my face as I allowed myself to live throguh the previous events of this glorious night once more.

“I’ll see you tomorrow honey… maybe we can do this again?”

I tilted my head to the side, my cheek pressing against the scratchy fabric of the couch.

“Definitely…”

We both chuckled before Cliff bid me an adieu, making his way back to his trailer as quietly as possible to avoid suspicion.

Who knew Cliff Booth was a man sent by the gods? A Hollywood hunk, a James Bond, a womanizer.

He was everything perfect wrapped into one.

Except he wasn’t James Bond, he was Cliff Booth.

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ghostyundercover · 1 month

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Willhelm Wicki fanfiction

Hi , i started writing a x reader insert story with Wilhelm Wicki and was wondering if any of you guys would be interest in reading it. It would be post on wattpad i think, please comment if you re interest in it

#inglourious basterds #inglorious basterds (2009)#ingloriousbasterdsxreader #wilhelmwicki #wilhelmwickixreader #aldo raine #hugo stiglitz #Smithson utivich #The basterds #Fanfiction #quentin tarantino

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struggling-bee · 2 years

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Fine - Hugo Stiglitz x Reader

@redrosewritingsstuff tagging you like you asked >:)

----------------------------------------------

Gunshots rang through your ears, and your eyes widened. It wasn’t just one shot either, it was many, lasting too long. You and The Basterds all looked at each other during the following silence. No one was saying anything. Nothing else could be heard from the basement, no more yelling, no shattering…

You bolted for the door but two sets of arms held you back as you struggled

“Let me go Aldo! Donny! Let me go!” Donny’s grip on your arm stayed the same, but Aldo’s only tightened.

“Give ‘em a damn minute!”

You stopped struggling, but quietly counted 60 seconds in your head. Aldo thought you’d calmed down so he let you go and went to talk to Donny, hoping to act quickly.

You knew you needed to be cautious and patient, but when sixty came, you burst out the door with your superiors calling after you.

Later on, it would come to mind that there were to be serious consequences, but right now all you could think about was Hugo. You whispered his name over and over, trying not to trip down the stairs to the bar.

Once you came to the doorway, you were shot at. Luckily you had fallen (miraculously, actually) and dodged the first bullet. One of your strengths was reaction time, so in only a matter of seconds you had knocked out the kraut who had tried to shoot. With him laying on the bar, unconscious and bleeding, you surveyed the room. You couldn’t hear well as you were still pumping with adrenaline, but your eyesight was fine. You didn’t see any movement at all, besides some smoke still blowing.

“Hugo?” you said, now walking around and looking at bodies “Wicki? Archie?” no answer.

“Hammersmark?”

Her name rolled off your tongue with distaste, and you were glad you didn’t hear a response from her. You didn’t know her and you didn’t trust her, and she was the reason this happened, she was the reason Hugo might be d-

You heard a groan from across the room.

“My god, Wicki?” you dashed towards him, not without trampling some corpses. Wicki was standing up, swaying and groaning. You were by his side, holding him up as best as you could.

“Wicki, what in the hell happened? Where’s Hugo?”

It was hard, not yelling, but Wicki didn’t need to be shouted at right now.

He cleared his throat and tried to talk, but couldn’t. You helped him into a chair and turned to the direction he nodded towards.

Hugo was on the ground, eyes closed, bleeding.

Breathing? Not breathing?

Breathing. Barely.

“My god, no. Hugo.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t die, nor did Wicki or Hammersmark. Archie didn’t die either but he was out of sight out of mind for you. They were all being treated (as best as a vet could) and lying in cots. You weren’t allowed in the room.

Once Aldo and the others had made it down, they were immediately helping Wicki stand up himself and figuring out how to move Hugo safely. It wasn’t until later that you noticed Hammersmark was there, and alive, but as soon as you did you couldn't stop yelling at her. You knew many languages, and she had been cursed at in all of them. Aldo had to detain you for the second time that day.

So you weren’t allowed in the room with them, with Hugo. You felt you were being treated like a child in time-out. In the very back of your head, you understood, but you were not in the mood to be understanding.

Hugo was your best friend. Aldo had sent your best friend into a basement because a German stranger said to. You respected Aldo, but this...you wouldn’t be able to forgive him if it had gone any worse.

Stewing in your thoughts, you didn’t notice footsteps coming towards you. You didn’t even notice anyone else was in the room until you were making eye contact with Aldo, your knife in your hand and ready, gripping his shoulder and keeping him a distance away. Reflexes, he must have tapped you on the shoulder.

He stared at you unblinkingly. You pulled away.

“Sir.”

He sighed.

“You can go in now, but you and me,” he stopped you for a second “We’re gon’ have a talk later.”

You kept walking, trying not to run.

“No we’re not going to talk, you’re just going to yell at me.”

He’d laugh about that later to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you walked in, you saw Wicki laying and staring at the ceiling, Archie, asleep, and Hugo was sitting up. Of course he was sharpening his knife too…That thing was his baby. Nothing could keep him away from it.

“Hey Hugo.” You said softly, walking towards the chair next to his bed.

He looked up at you for a second, then his eyes dropped back down to his work.

“Hello.”

You dragged a chair over to his bed and sat down. “How’re you feeling?”

“Drugged.”

You rolled your eyes and looked behind you.

“How about you Wicki? In a lot of pain?”

“You don’t need to pretend you’re here to see both of us.”

“Thanks.”

You turned back around, your frontside facing the back of your chair, chin resting on your crossed arms.

Hugo opened up best if you mentioned one of his interests…and you wanted him to open up.

“Can you sharpen my knife later, Hugo?”

He looked up at you, his face slightly relaxed.

“Sure.”

You smiled and muttered thanks, but kept watching him.

He glanced up at you, briefly.

“I’m going to be fine.”

You smiled a little, but…

“Hugo, I don’t trust anyone. That guys just a vet, how am I supposed to believe him? And don’t get me started on Hammersmark”

“You trust me.” Hugo said curtly. His eye contact was a bit intense.

You actually smiled this time.

“Yeah, I trust you.” You sighed a little, resigned. “If you say you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine…”

Hugo nodded. “Yeah.”

It only lasted a second, but you saw him smile at you.

He’d be fine.

#My writing #inglorious basterds #Inglourious Basterds #Quentin Tarantino #xreader #x reader #reader insert #reader #hugo #hugo stiglitz #fanfiction #fanfiction x reader #fanfic

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cozywriting · 2 years

Text

Hugo Stiglitz Imagines

Pairing: Hugo Stiglitz x reader

Warnings: Graphic death mention, blood cw

Requested by: Anonymous

Imagine if Hugo survived the fatality of Operation Kino. There was just one more Nazi left on his list and the Basterds’ happily obliged.

The sound of crunching leaves caused you, Aldo and Utivich to turn heads.

“Well, Goddamn’,” called out Aldo as he drank in the sight of a brooding, blood-stained Hugo Stiglitz.

“Hugo,” you whispered, shocked with relief that he was alive.

You rushed past the remaining Basterds over to him. Hugo allowed you to cup his face. It was covered in dirt, sweat and dark red droplets. Your finger grazed his cheek and he brought his hand against your own.

Hugo gazed achingly into your eyes. He felt the racing beat of his heart and rested his forehead against yours. He was unbelievably grateful that you were still in one piece.

Aldo and Utivich watched the couple silently. Hugo leaned away from you and caught the attention of the two soldiers.

“Where is he?” said Hugo gruffly.

Aldo and Utivich did not have to exchange looks to know exactly who Stiglitz was referring to.

“Sorry you missed ‘em. I reckon he’s on his sweet way to the Land o’ Free any minute now,” Aldo confirmed. “That is of course, if you have anything to do about it.”

“I mean, we did give him a nice parting gift to bring home to America,” Utivich replied.

“Got’a scalp outta that little driver of his, too,” Aldo added. “I’d say that’s a win.”

“Not yet. That Nazi’s mine,” Hugo gritted through his teeth.

Standing so closely, you felt the warmth of his body temperature rise. His eyes narrowed as he was staring at Aldo. Your hand pushed the other side of his face towards yours so he was looking at you again.

“You’re not thinking of— ” you started before Hugo cut you off.

“He can’t keep getting away with it,” He said, his voice firm and unwavering.

“Hugo, it’s dangerous. You just got back…”

His hand pulled your wrist away from his face.

“I have to be the one to kill him,” he said.

You matched his gaze and knew in your heart that this was the ultimate truth. Though, it had been the grief of thought— Hugo laying dead in the tavern, that was too unbearable for you to let him go so soon.

You thought of Hans Landa and his orchestrated deal to live an entire new life, his get out of jail free card, so to speak. The revelation sickened you.

“And you will,” Hugo heard you say confidently. His head turned to its side and he smiled at your words.

—— —— ——

Hugo sat on a stone ledge, sharpening his blade. You walked over and took a seat next to him, watching the way he maneuvered the blade’s edge back and forth. It was a comfort to know he’d let you sit so close, sometimes just to watch him. The two of you shared the silence, basking in one another’s company.

The repeated scraping of the blade came to a halt. Hugo tucked it away into its protective sleeve. Aldo passed by the two.

“Ready?” Aldo asked him. Hugo nodded at the southern man, his eyes following him.

“Hey,” Hugo’s quiet voice spoke out. You turned to him and felt his fingers entwine with yours. You looked over and saw a warm glow in his brown eyes. “Try not to miss me too much,” he whispered with a grin.

Hugo gently brushed his lips over your hand and you smiled. The soldier got up from the stone ledge and followed Aldo into the vehicle. His newly sharpened blade packed into his pocket.

“He’ll be okay,” you heard Utivich’s voice.

You smiled sadly, as the car drove off. “Yeah,” you agreed. “And that fucker doesn’t stand a chance against Hugo.”

Utivich laughed. “He’ll be scared shitless.”

—— —— ——

Aldo’s boots squeaked as he stepped out through the hospital’s bleak hallway. A German soldier guarding a door spotted him.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to—” His words were interrupted by the deep slit of his throat. A river of blood leaked out from the wound. The uniformed German collapsed and Hugo stepped over him, making sure to leave a dusted boot-print.

They reached the wooden door and the two men exchanged glances.

“Bingo,” Aldo said, nodding his head to the now lone door.

Quietly, Hugo turned the knob. There he was. The despicable Jew Hunter. Fast asleep, nestled on his cot. He had layers of bandages wrapped over his head.

Hugo’s eyes roamed back onto Aldo, and he smirked. “I’m a big fan of your work.”

Aldo shut the door behind them.

Hugo hovered over Hans’ sleeping body, lightly slapping his facial cheeks. Hans stirred awake, eyes widened in horror at Hugo’s menacing smile.

“Ah, Lan-da,” Hugo acknowledged in a tune.

Hans audibly gulped in fear. His big eyes flickered away from Hugo. “Aldo…” He warned. “Our deal!”

“Yeah, ‘bout that,” Aldo replied, stepping forward. “You remember what I said about gettin’ chewed out? Well, here it is.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Auf wiedersehen,” Hugo said as he flashed a smile at the former SS officer. Quickly, he tugged at a pillow, covering the Austrian’s fearful face. Hugo, unsheathing his knife, forcibly stabbed through the cushion. Again and again and again.

Stab.

Underneath Hugo, Hans’ body reacted in a frenzy. His legs squirmed in a fit of struggle, his hands both gripped the sides of his bed.

The former officer’s grip loosened, eventually falling at its side. Hugo removed the pillow and admired his masterpiece. He crawled off of the body and pushed it to the floor with a thud.

Hans’ limp figure lied on the hospital floor. His sandy hair was tousled and stained with mists of dark red. Fresh blood was gashed across his face, dripping down his neck. With one last look, Hugo spit on the dead Colonel.

Aldo kneeled down and pulled out his knife. He began to scalp the last, most infamous Nazi on their list. With Hans’ scalp in his hands, he looked over to his fellow soldier.

“Nice work, Stiglitz. Let’s get’cha home.”

#inglourious basterds #inglourious basterds fanfiction #quentin tarantino #hugo stiglitz #hugo stiglitz x reader #hugo stiglitz imagines #sorry this is my first time writing for hugo but im happy w how it came out!!#also i’m living for hugo being soft for the reader and overall grumpy towards everyone else <3 #i think from this point forward i'll be creating my own gifs for these posts #request #cozy writes #imagines

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killingitreservoirdogsstyle · 2 years

Note

Okay I have a couple ideas that might be funny! Have you seen the TikTok’s where a guys girl will be super dressed up and say she’s going to target and they film their boyfriends reaction? Or the lip filler prank? 😂

Would you mind doing a reaction HC of the dogs? If you don’t want to do both that’s totally fine and if you dont want to do all the dogs will you just do orange, white, and blonde? Thank you kindly! 🌸♥️

Hi, fellow friend! So great to hear from you again! How have you been? How's everyone been doing? Oh my god, these are fantastic ideas! Lol I have seen too many of these pranks online and I had the same sort of feeling that someone should write up reactions for the Dogs! My calling has come, LMFAO. I'd be thrilled to do both of these! I hope it's fine that I combined them into grouped headcanons for each of the Dogs to make it easier to read and write. Let me know if it isn't and I'll gladly fix them up! I hope you don’t mind that I threw in Eddie! Thanks for requesting, you always have the best ideas!

Also, please don't be shy about leaving comments to tell me what you thought of the writing. No pressure of course, but I'd love to hear what everyone thinks, positive criticism or praise is totally acceptable. Again, it's absolutely fine if you guys don't :)

FANDOM: Reservoir Dogs

GENRE: Requested Headcanons and romantic relationship

SYNOPSIS: The Dogs' gender neutral s/o pranks them with TikTok trends and hilarity ensues!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing, innuendo, sexual comments, and romantic relationship!

MR. PINK/JEREMY DAVIDSON ( my canon name for him )

Right off the bat, Pink is a very protective boyfriend. I wouldn’t say he is possessive, but he certainly isn’t about to let anybody steal his s/o no matter what gender they are. It makes him jealous when other people hit on you, so he has a sense of ingrained defensiveness just because of that. Overall, he’s just a paranoid mess of nerves, but he loves you more than anything.

For the Target prank, you'd put on something that flattered your body a little too well. If you're female, a skimpy dangerously low cut dress and stiletto heels with flawless makeup would do the trick. If you're a guy, just wear something that hugs your downstairs goods pretty well and an open shirt. My non-binary, agender, and fluid peeps, wear whatever he thinks you look fantastic in.

Above all, what will really do him in and piss him off is a sense of confidence. If you act like you know you're hot stuff, that will both turn him on and concern him.

You stride towards the doorway of your two's studio apartment, shoes clicking on the floor. Grabbing the keys, you shout that you're heading off to the grocery store to pick up some things. He comes to give you a list, only to be met with the sight of your glorious self looking amazing.

His eyes bulge, jaw going slack, and he freezes mid-sentence. Pink scans your body, a glimmer of lust in his blue eyes. He reacts a few seconds after, face darkening in disapproval. It's not that he doesn't like how you look--rather its the opposite--he is opposing you going out to Target like that without him.

" Absolutely fuckin' not. Over my dead body, babe. I don't care where the hell you're going, but you're not going out looking like that." you shoot back that he's overreacting, to which he gives you a confused glare.

" Like hell I am! Lemme just go put on my suit and tie then and we'll be matching, " he retorts in his usual sarcastic tone.

He pretty much reacts the same way to the lip filler prank, spitting out his drink when he sees you. He has to bite back a laugh, but he can't contain himself and bursts out in an uproar of giggles. You pretend to be upset while trying not to laugh yourself.

" Did something sting you or what? The fuck is that?!" he screeches, feeling like he'll wet himself from laughing. After when you tell him they were pranks, he might pout and carry on about it for awhile. Deep down, he thinks it was hilarious though.

MR. BROWN/JOHNNY CAMPBELL ( personal canon name )

You know the drill by now, put on something that shows off your tits, ass, dick, all of those, or body as a whole, and you're all set. What would really make the prank impactful would be if you put on something of his. He's a sucker for seeing you in a shirt or pants of his, it gets him turned on straight away. Another thing that would push him over the edge would be to wear ankle bracelets and other feet jewelry. I mean, COME ON, this is QT's character we're dealing with here, ha ha. Anyways, do something like that, and you'll get a rise immediately.

Both of you were getting ready to pop over to Target to buy some snacks for the film showings you guys had planned to have at your place with the rest of the Dogs. Brown was really excited for the evening and even happier that you were going to be there with him. You came out of the bathroom looking gorgeous, walking as sexily as you could.

He was waiting in the living room, setting up the last things on the projector and television before your friends arrived. He was listening to a commentary track from a movie you didn't recognize, the audio playing softly in the background when you told him you were ready to go. Smiling wide, he looked up towards you as he got up. Like Pink though, he froze the minute he laid eyes on you.

" Holy Christ, sugarcakes..." he stuttered, too dazed to properly form words. You could see the arousal and attraction taking over him in a moment, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. He obviously likes what he sees. Then, the spell is broken in a minute, when he realizes what you're actually wearing.

" Look, I'm not your Daddy or your boss at all, so I might not have a say here--but seriously? You're gonna go to Target like that?" you nod, almost cracking up on the spot. He sighs, and you can tell he's uncomfortable with the idea.

" You're making me look like a bum compared to you. I feel underdressed, baby."

The lip filler prank gets pretty much the same reaction as Pink's did for him, boisterous laughter filling the car when he climbs in. You'd picked him up from work after his shift at the Video Archives store, to greet him with your lips puffed. When you tell him that you did it to give yourself a confidence boost and make yourself more appealing, his reaction switches.

" Oh, Y/N, no! Why do you bash yourself like that? You're fucking perfection, baby girl/boy/babe. The goddamn Sharon Stone/Humphrey Bogart to my little cinephile self! You’re all of those bombshells at once ten-fold!” he’s such a sweetheart about it, and you can’t help but hug him. You tell him it was a prank, and he groans. You two have couple prank wars all the time, so he should have seen it coming. But he’s laughing later too, finding it so funny.

MR. BLONDE/VIC VEGA ( tw/implied smut/sexual comments )

Okay, he’s hilarious too in his reactions, except not in way you’re thinking. In regards to the Target prank, you would try to look your absolute best, be it in a suit, dress, or whatever tickles your fancy. He wasn’t planning on going with you instead wanting to have a drink or two and phone up Eddie to have a catch-up.

You were going out to get some veggies and other essential household items after he didn’t the day beforehand. He had no qualms about you going on your own, he trusts you and likewise for you too. Vic’s mid-conversation with Eddie, the two guffawing like moronic high schoolers over a job they had pulled recently. He wasn’t exactly paying attention to you, sipping bourbon and chilling on the couch. But it’s how fantastic you look walking past that catches his eye. You bid him goodbye and tell him where you’re going. A smile plays on his lips, and he tells Eddie to hold for a second. He practically runs up to you, lifting you by the waist into his arms.

“ Mmm, you trying to tell Daddy something? Where do ya think you’re going lookin’ all dolled up like that, huh, Y/N?” he rasps in that godforsakenly hot voice. You giggle, bopping his nose and protesting. You try to break free, but he holds on tight to you. He buries his head into your neck, planting open-mouth kisses across your jugular vein. His hands roam across your body, gripping your butt in squeezing motions. You moan, pleasurable grunts sounding from his throat.

“ You like that, baby? ” with that, he sweeps you up and carries you to the bedroom. Let’s just say you’re screaming with pleasure moments later, ha ha.

The lip filler prank makes him recoil and he is understandably taken aback by seeing your lips so puffy. You were out with him at one of Joe’s nightclubs for a night out with the Dogs when you’d excused yourself to use the bathroom. A few moments later, you came out with the filler. The others are in on it, acting all supportive of your new look. If it hadn’t been for the booming music in the background, Blondie would have heard Eddie and White’s snickers.

“ What in God’s name is that shit?” is his reaction, and you explain it to him. If he knew better, he would know straight away that it was a prank. But because he isn’t versed in female beauty trends or techniques, he has no clue. Vic isn’t let in on the joke until you and Orange break down laughing. After he finds out, he pulls you onto his lap, and whispers into your ear:

“ Very funny. You’ll get your punishment after this, sweet thing. Daddy promises,” and boy, does he fulfil that promise later on.

MR. WHITE/LARRY DIMMICK

I think that out of all of the Dogs, he’d have the calmest reaction along with a sense of supportiveness for the latter prank. He doesn’t really lose his temper with you that often, unless you really pushed him, which is rare. Instead, you two just exchange playful bickers. The Target prank makes him laugh, and he can tell straight away its a joke.

Larry was just popping down to the nearby convenience store that was in the vicinity of the apartment building you two live in. It was the weekend, and all around him, Los Angeles was bustling with tourists, fellow city-goers, and campers going about their business in the evening summer heat. After buying a pack of Red Apple cigarettes and a few other grocery items, he weaved his way home through the busy streets. You phoned him on his wireless cell--like the one Eddie had in the film--and told him you wanted to head off to Target to buy cat/dog food for your pet which sounded normal. You wanted to know if he wanted to meet up at the park with you. He agreed without hesitation.

As soon as he rounds the corner to see you, a smile breaks across his lips. You look stunning, more so than he thought was possible for your already divine self. It hits him like a punch to the gut, taking his breath away. Closing the distance between you two in a kiss, you ask him what his opinion is of the outfit.

“ I think you already know how I feel about it, my darling. My God, look at you smoking like that,” he doesn’t even necessarily have an issue with the clothes, but he does ask you if its okay if you change into attire that is suitable for the environment you’ll be going to. Larry’s not opposed to you wearing such things because he trusts you and knows you wouldn’t put up with people flirting with you.

The lip filler prank is the same but he doesn’t vocalize any judgment or apprehension towards it. When he sees you with it, he is encouraging. To him it doesn’t matter what he thinks, it’s about making you feel confident and empowered. Unless it was something that was hurting or damaging you, he isn’t going to shit all over you because he loves you.

“ Do you feel beautiful? Then fuck what I think and fuck what others think. I just want you to be happy, Y/N, and this is a safe constructive way to do that.”

When he finds out you were pranking him, he laughs it off with you. Except that covertly, he’s now planning a prank or two of his own in the back of his head. So be wary of whatever he may come up with!

MR. ORANGE/FREDDY NEWANDYKE

Ladies, pull out the hooker boots and short shorts! Men, it’s an open shirt that will do the trick! All my out of the binary friends, pick whatever you want! It’s time to get Orange, and let me tell you that it will be one hell of a time! Like Brown, you two are big kids who have constant prank wars, so it isn’t uncommon for stuff like this to happen. It certainly has made your relationship stronger and more exciting.

To kill two birds with one stone, you would pull both pranks at once on him with the help of White and Eddie. They were more than eager to help you out, thinking it was a great idea. Being friends with Freddy means getting pranked at some point in the friendship, and Eddie and White want to get even after Orange’s last pranks on the two Dogs. ( Let’s just say it was involving a water gun filled with watered down mustard on White’s new white jean jacket and giving Eddie a pair of boxers with a hidden vibrator like device. He’s lucky he didn’t get shot right there and then for giving Nice Guy a hell of a time, if you know what I mean ) You framed it as inviting the two Dogs over for dinner, and he was totally cool with it. He didn’t suspect a thing which relieved you.

En route to your house from the station after work, you phoned him that you wanted to pop by Target with Larry and Nice Guy for some last minute beverages. He waits by the curb outside for you three and sees you come out shortly later. His eyes shot open and his jaw dropped. He had to admit you were popping, but it took him aback that you looked like that in front of Larry and Eddie and the public.

“ Y/N?! What the hell is this baby?” he stammers, gesturing at you wildly. The Dogs tell him to calm down because he’s overreacting. You chide him too, reiterating that you guys were supposed to go to Target. The food was going to get cold soon. When you spoke, you had a weird lisp-like accent from your lips looking so swollen. It almost made White and Nice Guy crack up, but they reigned themselves in.

“ They look fuckin’ hot, Mr. Orange. Don’t see what the big deal is over,” Eddie butted in, and Orange snapped back with “ Hey asshole, I’m right here y’know! Keep your bitching to yourself.”

It’s the way he says it that makes you break out laughing and the other two join in. Orange stares dumbfounded, absolutely confused over what in the hell was going on. When you say it was a prank, only then does he laugh. You did get him pretty good, and White and Eddie finally got their well deserved revenge too.

“NICE GUY” EDDIE CABOT ( tw here for some sexual comments and period mentions briefly )

I just had to use this GIF because it was so perfect to describe Eddie’s reaction to these pranks! By the way, none of the GIFS I use are mine and I give those who own them full credit! Anyways, Eddie is a cross between Pink, Blonde, and White with the pranks. He is very supportive of you taking confidence in your appearance and expressing yourself through your physical looks. He constantly rides you about accepting yourself because he hates seeing you sad, down, or ugly. You’re perfect to him and he wants you to understand that. But he’s also protective of you too. As we saw in the film, he has quite the temper that rivals his dad’s.

He was out for work reasons when you were at home on the phone with your best friend. Both of you were in the midst of a giggling conversation about some ideas for pranks you two had come up with. They had urged you to try the lip filler and the Target prank on Eddie, because they had gotten a hilarious reaction out of their partner. Whatever reaction you’d get out of your own boyfriend would be golden and you knew that. So you agreed to do them. You invited your friend over to your house to help you formulate the plan.

You phoned Eddie shortly afterwards, telling him that your best friend was over and you two were planning to have a girls night sleepover. Nice Guy had no qualms over that, smiling at how happy you sounded. He asked what you two had in store. As you spoke the words you and your friend had come up with, you slipped in that you two were going to do lip fillers—of which Eddie has no idea about how they work but knows how they look. He laughed it off, not taking you seriously, saying he was going to do one more thing for the Dogs, go to Target, and then come back home within an hour. When you hung up, you flashed a grin at your friend. You two rushed to the bathroom to get ready to meet him at Target.

About half an hour went past before you were ready to go. On the drive there, you both sang your favourite tunes at the top of your lungs, and had a blast the whole time. Sure enough, his Cadillac was parked close to the doors of the store. Dating Eddie for so long, you had an inkling of where he might be, so you two made a beeline to the dairy section. Rugged, babyfaced, and in his favourite windbreaker, he checked the expiry dates of a few different yogurt tubs. Your friend dragged you to the adjoining aisle where they made you break out laughing. You could practically feel Eddie freeze at hearing that all too familiar laugh. Sauntering out of rows of stacked soda and beer boxes, he saw you looking absolutely beautiful. Heat burned across his cheeks, jealously lighting him up.

“ Y/N! What the hell are you doing here?!” He caught up with you two, grabbing you gently into a hug. Innocent as an angel, you repeated the story that you had gotten your period/needed medicine and were picking up said products. He didn’t buy it, of course, getting slightly upset at you for coming so dressed up. “ You look like you’re ready for a singles night out at the club, baby, not to pick up shit at Target. Come on, what’s really going on, and don’t lie to me. You wanna get fucked by Daddy, is that it? I can do that for you, just not here…”

Finally both you and your friend crack up and spill the beans that it was a prank. He laughed too, amused by your cheekiness. As a reward for making him laugh, he bought you all the chocolate and treats you wanted for your sleepover. Let’s just say though that like Blonde, he punished you really good in the bedroom for your little stunt.

I hope that these were okay, and please do let me know if you need me to fix them up! I don’t mind whatsoever and only want them to be perfect for you! Thanks again for requesting anon and thank you all for reading, it means the world to me! Have a fantastic rest of your weekend guys, and keep those reqs coming! No pressure though, ha ha. Bye!

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dantheport · 1 year

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I wrote an homage to my favorite video game series of all time. This is a #legendofzelda: Majora’s Mask fanfic that is rated M for mature audiences because of its inclusion of foul language and violence. It’s a dark comedy spin that takes place about a decade after the happenings of Majora’s Mask. You can find it at milkbard.wordpress.com

#legend of zelda #zelda #zelda fandom #loz #coen brothers #Quentin Tarantino #stephen king #fanfic #fanfiction

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casahoeva · 11 months

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Intro Post (updated 06/2023)

Find my linktree with my Tumblr and Wattpad here

The fandoms I write for are: • BBC Sherlock • Quentin Tarantino movies (Reservoir Dogs especially) • X-Men • Doctor Who • Top Gun • Mass Effect (1-3 NOT Andromeda) • Harry Potter • Hogwarts Legacy

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

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Can You Keep Up? 🔪 | Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz Imagine

Takes place during the events of Inglorious Basterds

Inglorious Basterds Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz x female basterd!reader (romantic), the Basterds (platonic)

Content Warnings: profanity, light angst, war, murder, blood, violence, n*zis, hate crimes | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.7k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: Sgt Hugo Stiglitz had a reputation long before becoming a member The Basterds. Killing Nazis and ending the war were the only thinks he cared about….until a new basterd entered the picture. One who had her own reputation in America that rivaled even some its most notorious gangsters.

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“You should tell her,” Wicki mumbled in German, which would do nothing to hide their conversation since the person they were referring to spoke German. Had she been closer to the pair they surely would’ve been found out.

Hugo groaned, pitting a glare to the Austrian, “No.” Wicki rolled his eyes.

“One of these days the others are going to notice how you’ve changed in the last few weeks.”

“I have not changed!” The German defends, whisper-shouting while checking to make sure she wasn’t in their proximity. Eyes locking on her figure, he found Y/n scalping her latest kill. Quickly he turned away, the image of her tackling the Nazi down from a tree branch appearing in his mind, the stoic expression he wore faltering. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen a person do and boy did it make him feel things.

But then again, Y/n L/n was not an ordinary soldier. Hell, she wasn’t even a soldier.

A native of the city that never sleeps, the cards of a promising life were not in place for Y/n. At a young age petty crime was her ticket to surviving. Pickpocketing off of unsuspecting tourists, stealing cars from junkyards, and making quick cash by taking whatever opportunity presented itself. That was her life from childhood to the end of adolescence.

Right around the age of 21 in 1930, the midst of prohibition, Y/n found herself at the bar of a speakeasy owned by one of the most notorious mob bosses in the city. Now when one thinks of organized crime and all its associates, women never have a place amongst the ranks. It’s just how things worked—patriarchy and sexism in all.

Y/n had already garnered herself a reputation in the underground world of New York. Known by only the name, The Rose, due to the red inked rose tattoo on her neck, Y/n was listed on the top ten most wanted in the city. Doing jobs ranging from burglaries to ‘get rid of them, leave nothing behind’ as they came to her as long as they paid well. And by well, we’re talking Y/n couldn’t have a bank account open for they would be suspicious of the depositing amounts.

No eye witness had ever been able to give a detailed description for the NYPD to develop a composite drawing. Y/n was a ghost among the living. Making her dangerous and a myth to many who refused to believe a woman could be capable of the crimes she committed. A lot of the hits she was responsible for had the police believing it was rival gangs. Nothing was traced back to her save for burglaries where a witness reported, “whoever it was, I think it was a woman. There was something about their physique and voice in the few words they spoke that had me thinking it wasn’t a man.”

So yeah, Y/n was a professional criminal at the ripe age of 21. A literally hit woman who was damn good at making things appear as an accident. Becoming an associate of a mob boss was not what she envisioned, but leave it to a man who’s also a ghost to the public eye able to uncover a fellow one.

“How’d you know who I was?” The vodka from her martini hit her tongue as she took a sip. Eyebrows raised at the man beside her, dressed in an expensive pinstriped suit, she noted the two men in suits flanking him. That in itself was enough to piece together he was someone important. Then he got to talking and before long Y/n formally introduced herself knowing the jig was up.

“A man like me has his ways.”

“And I’m assuming a man like you is someone who likes to keep his presence quiet. Yet, you took a risk by approaching me. Why is that, Mr. Falcone?”

“I’ve got a job for you.” This has her tilt her head, intrigued by the proposal.

“What kind of job?”

“I’m aware one-and-done is your style,” he starts, removing his glasses and placing them in his pocket only to remove a Manila colored envelope. “But I’m willing to offer you something more permanent. It means you’ll have to stop any and all business with competing employers,” he was referring to rival gangs and families. Basically Y/n would be an associate in his ranks. “But I can assure you,” the envelope slides over to her, Y/n immediately taking it into her hands to peek inside. “any and all needs would be provided. I’m sure you’ll find the pay more than sufficient than what you’re normally accustomed to.” Inside was at least $20,000. Twenty wads of ten $100 bills stacked together. The man was right in his assumption of money Y/n obtained on a job—ranging between $3-7k depending on what needed to be done.

Y/n was quiet for a moment, finishing her martini before turning back to Falcone. “Forgive me for being so blunt, Mr. Falcone. Your offer is gracious and tempting, but I thought women have no place in the mob. Why would you want to work with me?”

“Because you’re good at what you do,” he stated the obvious, motioning for the bartender for two glasses of whiskey. “You’ve managed at such a young age to turn the boys in blue upside down over your looming presence. And they still have yet to uncover how deep your ledger bleeds in this city. They only believe you’re responsible for all those bank heists and the last person the mayor’s God awful son was seen with.” Y/n withheld the smirk threatening to form.

“But I know from whispers in the dark the number of people you’ve successfully indisposed. And I know you’ve managed to accumulate that many because you know how to work with men’s weaknesses. How they are so captivated by the rose before them, they fail to see the thorns. Why wouldn’t I want to work with someone of such talents?” Passing over one of the whiskeys, Falcone lifted his own. “What do you say, Miss. L/n? Do we have a deal?”

The clinking of glass signaled the signing of the unwritten contract penned beneath the dim lights of Falcone’s speakeasy. From that moment on Y/n was an official member of the Falcone crime family. Their hitwoman to be exact where she maintained her double life for nearly twelve years. Bathing in the riches, living the high life. All while keeping a low profile where Falcone’s dirty work was never traced back to her and vice versa.

Unfortunately, mistakes happen. Costly ones where everything crumbles in the blink of an eye.

Well it didn’t all crumble. Technically the FBI was only able to prove Y/n was responsible for one count of federal racketeering. Any other crimes—nearly 50 to be exact—they believed she did had no hard evidence.

Let’s face it, they damn well knew it was her. But Y/n was really good at her job. Only reason she got caught was her getaway driver fucked up by turning left instead of right where a squadron was waiting for them. One look at her tattoo and the feds were busting down the doors of the police department.

But dragging her ass to Alcatraz to become the first female prisoner was not the plan the feds had for Y/n. At the turn of the new year in 1942, America had entered World War II following the attack on Pearl Harbor. Troops were sent off to Europe each week, nurses deployed, and supplies to aid the allies.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Y/n choked on the smoke from cigarette, handcuffed by the wrists and staring at the agent like he was insane.

“Not in the slightest,” he blew out his own smoke. Placing his bud in the tray, the agent leaned his elbows on the table, “listen, Miss. L/n, it’s either this or prison. As much as my colleagues hate to admit it, you’d make a great spy. We’re offering your freedom—full pardon and all—in exchange for your cooperation with the OSS for however long it will take for us to win this war. The Army already agreed.”

Y/n stayed silent, deep in thought while finishing her cigarette. Go to war, become a spy for America, and try to not to die before it ends. Or waste away in a prison located on an island with no chances of escaping and remain there until she dies. “Fuck it, guess I’m going to Europe.”

Touching down in France Y/n was hauled to the OSS base camp, still chained by the wrists and ankles, where she was introduced to the General. From there the rules and regulations of her position were relayed on top of being assigned to the squadron deep behind enemy lines known as The Basterds.

One could imagine the reaction the squad had when their newest comrade was revealed to them. The only warning they got was, “bring her in,” before a smirking chained Y/n waltzed in with two soldiers flanked beside her.

“Hello, boys.”

Donny just about swallowed the toothpick in his mouth. The younger basterds wide eyed and mouths agape while Hugo and Wicki appeared confused. Then there was Aldo who was visibly flabbergasted, “What the hell is this?” It wasn’t everyday one saw a woman in handcuffs guarded by armed escorts. But despite her innocent demeanor, there was something sinister lying behind her gaze. “Who is she?”

“Your new mercenary,” the general plainly states.

“This pretty little thang?” Donny wants to laugh, earning an amused smirk from Y/n. Aldo shushes him a glare at the same moment the general does.

“This pretty little thing could make your death look like an accident, Donowitz.” The comment had Y/n roll her eyes. Now that has the Basterds intrigued…and a little concerned. Their reaction made her chuckle.

“Believe me gentlemen, it wasn’t my idea to join you on the front lines. But, the FBI said it was either this or Alcatraz.”

“Alcatraz?!” Smitty gasps. Off to the side Hugo leans closer to Wicki, whispering in German, “What is Alcatraz?”

“It’s a federal prison in California located on an island where they send the worst of the worst criminals. They say no one can escape once they’re locked within its walls.”

So, from what Hugo observes, this woman happens to be one of the worst criminals in America.

Aldo, just as appalled, follows up with, “Now what on earth did you do that would have the feds sending you to the Rock?”

“My job,” she shrugs in response.

“Which was?” There were dozens of ‘jobs’ with a one way ticket to Alcatraz. Mostly gang members and mafia bosses. Serial killers and bank robbers. Its most famous residents being Al Capone, George Kelly Barnes, Robert Stroud, and Alvin Karpavivz.

The general slaps down the file in front of Aldo, “killing people for money, money laundering, blackmail and extortion of politicians on behalf of the New York’s mob, robbing almost every bank in the city, and bombing the Wall Street Journal.”

“Now general,” Y/n tsks, receiving horrified expressions from everyone in the room. The metal from her handcuffs clanked as she held palms up, “That’s a little far-fetched, don’t you think? After all those are only accusations. None of which can be proven,” her nonchalant tone combined with the not-so-innocent smile gave indication the general spoke the truth. “Except for the blackmail one. That I did do.”

The Basterds were pretty much hesitant of Y/n up until the first time they saw her in action. Not only did she lure a patrol of Nazis to them, but she took down six of the ten with. One for each bullet in her pistol. All the Basterds were beyond amazed, but none more than Hugo.

It was like he was seeing the female version of himself when Y/n invoked her talents with a blade on a Nazi. Effortless when sneaking up behind or jumping from a branch onto their shoulders. Never missing her target when firing her pistol. The fear she produced when a Nazi recognized the tattoo on her neck. Word got around quickly among the German army of the female basterd who looked as delicate as a rose but possessed thorns unlike any other.

Hugo, a man of few words, couldn’t help but be curious of the American. Y/n noticed it too with how many times she caught him staring at her. Finally she had enough of his staring and confronted him one night when they were on watch, “Penny for your thoughts, Stiglitz.”

“You speak German?” His tone was of surprise, making her smirk.

“I speak many languages. German, Italian, Spanish, French, even Gaelic. It’s sorta a necessity for the job I do—interacting with people from all parts of the world.”

“Job….” Hugo repeated under his breath, “you are a professional criminal? That is what Donowitz was saying.”

“Oh so you believe gossip now?” She teased, though making no motion to deny the accusation. “Good to know you boys talk about me in your free time.”

“Is it true?” Hugo persisted, making Y/n straighten her posture, no longer finding humor in the conversation. The tone had shifted to a serious one.

“Will you look at me differently than you already do if it is?” Was her challenge. Not waiting for his answer she continued, “I’m only guaranteed my freedom once this war ends for the things they caught me for, Hugo. Confessing to you the ones they didn’t…..well why would I admit guilt? A smart criminal would never.”

To be honest Y/n technically confessed to Hugo she was in fact responsible for all the crimes the general had informed them of. Though vague with her words, Y/n spoke with her eyes. Showing Hugo her true nature without voicing the truth.

From that moment on there was an unspoken connection between the two. A mutual respect and understanding for each other that was different from the other Basterds. Hugo could rely on Y/n to have his back and vice versa. Never did they question the other’s decision or actions even if the Basterds disagreed. While it took a few months, they eventually considered them friends instead of mere comrades.

He didn’t know when he started to see Y/n in a different light. Maybe it was when he watched her dance in a tavern with Omar and Aldo. Or maybe it was when she shot at the nazi sneaking up behind him from her sniper's den. He found peace in the moments they would sit by the fire and not say a single word. Admiration in the way she didn’t give a fuck about what people thought of her. Held her ground and owned her mistakes. Maybe it wasn’t full blown love Hugo felt for Y/n, but there was a deep fondness for her.

Whatever it was, Wicki seemed to catch on.

Like right now when he spotted the blonde observing Y/n scalping her latest kill. Trying to get Hugo to man up and confess his feelings to their fellow Basterd was like teaching a toddler simple manners. “I don’t see what you are so afraid of, Hugo. You two are friends. And from what I’ve seen when you’re not looking, I think she feels the same.”

Hugo couldn’t ignore the slight skip in his heart at the assumption. Still stoic, the German shrugged his shoulders, “We’ve got a job to do, Wilhelm. There’s no time for—.”

“No time for what?” The two men jump at the sound of Y/n joining their conversation. Neither noticed she had moved from her spot.

“Nothing,” Hugo sputters out, placing his knife back in its holster. In his head he was hoping to whatever God she didn’t hear what they were saying. So much as catching the word ‘she’ Y/n would know it was her given she was the only woman in miles.

Tilting her head, Y/n keeps her expression neutral. “Wicki, can you give Hugo and I a moment alone.”

“Of course,” the man excuses himself, bidding a glance to Hugo on the way out. Once he was a good distance away and none of the other Basterds were in sight Y/n approached Hugo. He waited for her to speak, but instead was left stunned at the feeling of her lips pressing to his cheek.

“Wh-what was that for?” A smirk is her response.

“I think you know,” she throws a wink. “You and Wicki’s forget your voices carry.” Red flares on Hugo’s cheeks, but he manages to calm it down. Y/n only widens her smile, “Don’t worry about saying what you feel,” she gives another kiss, though this time on the corner of his lips. “I can see it in your actions.”

Spinning on her heel, Y/n starts making her way back to the others when Hugo calls out to her, still shocked by what had taken place, “What does this mean then? For us?”

“Whatever you desire, darling,” Peering over her shoulder the woman gives a cheeky smirk, “think you can keep up?”

#hugo stiglitz imagine #hugo stiglitz x reader #hugo stiglitz #Hugo Stiglitz fanfiction #Hugo Stiglitz x y/n #inglorious basterds #inglorious basterds x reader #inglorious basterds imagine #inglorious basterds fanfiction #til schweiger #quentin tarantino characters

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