#aldo raine x reader

[averagewriter-inthedark]

How they react to you getting hurt 🥲 | IB headcanon

Link to my IB masterlist

Requested 📨 yes/no

Content warnings: injury, blood, war, profanity, light angst.

Being part of the Basterds & getting injured would look like:

Getting injured was not something you planned, but in war it is bound to happen eventually. It could happen when y’all were ambushed, on recon, or something simple as moving place to place.

Whether it be a small graze, a split lip, or a possible fatal wound the Basterds are losing their mind. It would be utter chaos in the tent with Wicki having to kick them all out, besides Alsdo, so he could work with a clear mind. If it was a small injury that could be fixed with some bandages and alcohol then he’d be like “you lot are so dramatic. Just calm down they’re going to be fine.” But if it was serious then the last thing the man needed was panic around him, “if you all can’t shut the fuck up then get out! I need to concentrate before they bleed out!” Wicki cared deeply for you and felt responsible. He’d be dammed if you died on his watch.

Aldo would remain calm but internally was on high alert. You were one if the best Basterds and quite literally the glue that kept them together. In a shitshow of a world you still managed to smile, brining a level of hope and optimism to the squad. Seeing you in pain pulled at his heartstrings. Best believe he would stop at nothing to avenge you if worst comes to worst.

Donny would be in the same boat as Aldo, but would be more visibly anxious and pacing back and forth until he got an update. Like Aldo he’d set the world on fire to avenge you if you died. Donny is the bastard who’d try to make you laugh when you’re recovering which would only make the pain worse. “Oh sorry, I forgot you’re hurting there.”

Hugo is scary. Bottom line he is not talking, he is barely moving. It would not be until he knew you’d be okay that he would visibly relax. If the person who hurt you was still breathing Hugo would be silently plotting. The bastard would be the type to sneak out of camp and track the person himself. God forbid you died because you were the one thing keeping him grounded (platonically) so if he lost you….well pray for those who come in his way.

The younger basterds are losing their minds. Scared shirtless the only thing their minds go to is the worst. Smitty is holding back tears, Omar is biting his nails. They’d be camping outside the tent to hear what was going on and would fall on their asses when Aldo or Wicki were to suddenly come out. “Are they gonna be okay!?” They shout simultaneously, anxious at the sight of blood on Wicki. When the older man lit a cigarette and mumbled, “They’re gonna be fine. They just need to rest,” they all dropped to the floor in relief.

It would pain the basterds to have to send you home if the injury you sustained put you out of the line of duty. This wold be if you lost a limb or were in need of more medical attention than they could offer, such as losing your sight or part of your hearing. Aldo would be the one to escort you to allied territory to hand you over, the ride solemn and silent. “I’m sorry, boss,” you softly said., “I’m sorry I let you down.” “Kid, you’re alive. That’s all that matters and don’t you fuckin’ forget it. I’d rather be takin’ ya back breathin’ than in a casket.”

If your injury was not fatal and a quick fix, expect a small lecture from Aldo. He wouldn’t be upset with you per say, but just angry that it happened. Again, you are someone he cares about. All the Basterds do. So when shit like that happens it scares them and never did they wanna deal with having to bury someone they cared about. He would, however, scold you if the reason you got hurt was because you did something stupid or went against his orders. “L/n, I will warn you this one time. You pull that shit again and I’ll have your ass on the next truck back to base. Understood?”

At the end of the day the boys are just happy you’re okay. It was a close call but thankfully you survived and Wicki was the one with the brains to help you recover. They may have shit their pants and nearly went into cardiac arrest, but the basterds wouldn’t be losing their sunshine anytime soon.

[inglourious-imagines]

Inglourious Basterds Masterlist

Lt. Aldo Raine:

The Story of Their Lives

A Thing Going On

[dilfismz]

The Wolf and The Fox

Pairing: Hans Landa x reader, slight Aldo Raine x reader but brief.

Description: As the only female Basterd it's your job to seduce Landa to gain information that may just tip the scales towards the Allies in this war. However, this job may be more mentally and emotionally tolling than expected, leaving you wondering where your true loyalties lie.

Warnings: Manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of Nazism/Nazis (naturally), betrayal, character death (not reader), suggestive but no smut.

Length: 11.7k (ya'll I went crazy)

You stepped into the softly lit dining room of the chateau, each footfall measured, each glance deliberate. Your dress was selected to attract attention but not suspicion—elegant but understated, fitting for your cover as an American socialite stranded in German-occupied France. You were here to gather intel from Hans Landa, the notorious “Jew Hunter.” Your mission was to gain his trust, charm him, and extract the secrets buried in his cunning mind.

Landa rose as you entered, his wolfish smile already in place. “Ah, Fräulein,” he said in a tone dripping with feigned warmth. “I must say, you bring an unexpected brightness to this dreary war.”

“Colonel Landa,” you replied, offering a polite smile. You extended your hand, and he took it, his grip firm but not oppressive. His lips brushed the back of your hand, his eyes locking onto yours as though daring you to look away.

“Please, sit,” he said, gesturing to the small, candlelit table set for two.

You obeyed, smoothing your dress as you sat. The air between you felt charged, like a taut wire. Landa’s reputation preceded him; you’d been briefed extensively on his charm, his ruthlessness, and his unsettling ability to peel back people’s layers with terrifying ease.

“Wine?” he offered, already pouring without waiting for an answer.

“Thank you,” you said, accepting the glass.

He sat across from you, folding his hands on the table and leaning forward slightly. His eyes never left you, scrutinizing every movement, every breath. “So, Fräulein, tell me—what brings an American woman to our humble corner of the world?”

You sipped your wine, using the moment to gather your thoughts. “I was visiting Europe when the war began. Circumstances have kept me here longer than I intended.”

“Ah,” Landa said, his voice light, but his smile betrayed a deeper curiosity. “And yet, you seem remarkably at ease in occupied France. One might even say… comfortable.”

You tilted your head, mirroring his playful tone. “I’ve learned that survival often depends on adapting to one’s circumstances, Colonel.”

Landa’s eyes glinted with amusement. “How pragmatic. I find that adaptability is a trait I greatly admire in others.” He took a sip of his own wine, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you feel his scrutiny. “And how, may I ask, have you adapted to the company of German officers?”

You met his gaze, allowing a hint of a smile to play at your lips. “By keeping them entertained, of course.”

Landa chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “A sharp tongue, an even sharper wit. I do enjoy clever company.”

You leaned forward slightly, careful to keep your movements subtle and deliberate. “And I enjoy men who appreciate a woman’s intelligence.”

Landa’s smile widened, his predatory nature slipping through for just a moment. “Then we are well-matched, Fräulein.”

The conversation continued, a delicate dance of words and glances. You allowed yourself to flirt just enough to keep his interest piqued, to keep him guessing about your intentions. Beneath the surface, you were cataloging every detail of the room, every piece of information he let slip, no matter how trivial it seemed.

But Hans Landa was not a man to be underestimated. He leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting to one of casual curiosity. “You are quite skilled at this, you know.”

“At what, Colonel?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“At making people believe exactly what you want them to,” he said, his smile sharp as a knife.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you raised your glass to him. “Then perhaps we’re more alike than you think.”

Landa laughed again, genuine this time. “Touché, Fräulein. Touché.”

As the evening wore on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a razor’s edge. Landa was too clever, too perceptive. But you also knew that his ego was his greatest weakness. And if you played your cards right, you might just come out of this alive—with the information the Basterds so desperately needed.

For now, the game continued, with each move being more dangerous than the last.

The dinner wore on, the two of you circling each other like predators testing the boundaries of their territories. You leaned into the role you were assigned, allowing Hans to feel that he was the one leading the conversation, the dance. But with every veiled compliment you offered, every calculated sip of wine, you knew you were feeding his ego—your most valuable tool.

“Tell me, Fräulein,” he began, setting his glass down with deliberate care. “Do you enjoy the theater?”

“The theater?” you repeated, tilting your head in mock consideration. “I suppose it depends on the performance.”

He smiled, pleased by your response. “And how would you describe tonight’s performance?”

You felt the trap hidden beneath his words, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, you allowed a soft, amused smile to curve your lips. “I’d say it’s riveting. A masterclass in… subtlety.”

Landa chuckled, the sound low and indulgent. “Flattery will get you far, my dear. But I must confess, you are far more engaging than most of the company I’m accustomed to.”

“And you are far more charming than I anticipated, Colonel,” you replied, leaning forward slightly, your voice dropping just enough to hint at something more. “I imagine you don’t often hear that.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” he said, his smile widening into something sharper. “I hear it often. But sincerity… that is rare. And I do believe you are sincere.”

He was testing you now, watching your every reaction, waiting for a crack in your facade. You forced a laugh, light and melodic, as if his comment were nothing more than a clever jest. “Well, I wouldn’t dream of lying to you, Colonel. That would be terribly unwise.”

“Indeed, it would,” he said, his tone dipping into something darker. “But you don’t strike me as someone who shies away from taking risks.”

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. His words felt like a challenge, a thinly veiled acknowledgment that he suspected there was more to you than met the eye. But you couldn’t afford to falter now.

“Life is full of risks, Colonel,” you said, your voice steady. “The key is knowing which ones are worth taking.”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite place—amusement? Suspicion? Admiration? Perhaps all three. “Wise words. Tell me, Fräulein, what risks have you deemed worth taking recently?”

You hesitated just long enough to make it seem as though you were considering your answer carefully. “Sitting across from you tonight,” you said finally, allowing a playful smirk to tug at your lips.

Hans laughed, a genuine, hearty laugh that echoed through the room. “Oh, you are delightful,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s been far too long since I’ve encountered someone with your… talents.”

You smiled demurely, but your mind was racing. Every word, every glance, was part of a game you couldn’t afford to lose. Hans Landa was far too intelligent, far too dangerous, to underestimate. And yet, you could feel that he was intrigued by you, perhaps even a little disarmed.

But then, just as you began to feel the faintest sense of control, he leaned forward, his expression shifting to something colder, sharper. “Tell me, my dear,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper, “what really brought you to occupied France?”

Your blood ran cold, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you let out a soft laugh, meeting his gaze with a steady calm you didn’t entirely feel. “I already told you, Colonel. Circumstance.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “Circumstance can be such a convenient excuse, don’t you think?”

The game had changed. Landa wasn’t just toying with you anymore; he was hunting.

And you were the prey.

Your breath hitched, but you recovered quickly. Landa’s eyes were locked onto yours, sharp and predatory, and yet there was something else there—a flicker of amusement, of genuine curiosity. He was testing you, yes, but you couldn’t ignore the magnetic pull of his presence.

There was a strange allure to him, something that both repelled and intrigued you. You weren’t blind to his cruelty, to the blood on his hands, but the way he carried himself—his charm, his intelligence—made it impossible not to feel drawn in, even against your better judgment.

You smiled, letting your lashes flutter slightly as you tilted your head. “Convenient, perhaps,” you said, your voice soft and measured. “But sometimes convenience is all we have in times like these.”

He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent an unexpected warmth through you. “You’re quite adept at turning a phrase, my dear. It’s refreshing.”

The conversation had shifted again, the tension between you no longer just a game of wits. It was something deeper, more dangerous. You could feel it in the way his gaze lingered on you, in the slight smirk tugging at his lips.

“I imagine you don’t often find yourself in refreshing company, Colonel,” you said, leaning forward just enough to blur the line between formality and intimacy.

“Indeed,” he said, his voice low. “Most people I encounter are far less… stimulating.”

Your pulse quickened as his words settled between you. The way he looked at you now wasn’t just calculating; it was hungry. And to your own surprise, you didn’t hate it.

Landa rose suddenly, his movements graceful and deliberate, and made his way around the table. He stopped beside you, his presence overwhelming. You turned to look up at him, your breath catching as he leaned down, his face inches from yours.

“Do you enjoy dancing, Fräulein?” he asked, his voice a soft murmur.

“I do,” you managed to reply, your voice quieter than you intended.

He extended a hand, his smile deepening. “Then allow me.”

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before placing your hand in his. His grip was warm, firm, and he pulled you to your feet with an ease that sent a shiver through you. The room was silent save for the soft crackle of the fire, but Landa began to hum a quiet melody as he guided you into a slow waltz.

His hand rested at your waist, his other holding yours as he led you in a steady rhythm across the room. You tried to focus, to remind yourself why you were here, but the way he looked at you—the intensity, the confidence—made it impossible to think clearly.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice almost teasing.

“It’s the wine,” you said quickly, though you both knew it wasn’t true.

He smiled, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as he pulled you closer. “I find that hard to believe.”

The proximity was intoxicating. You could feel the heat radiating from him, could smell the faint scent of cologne and tobacco that clung to him. His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world had disappeared.

“Tell me,” he said softly, his voice like a velvet caress. “What is it you’re truly afraid of, my dear?”

Your throat tightened. He was too close, too perceptive. And yet, a part of you didn’t want to pull away. “I’m not afraid,” you said, though your voice betrayed you.

His smile widened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. “Lying doesn’t suit you.”

Your breath hitched, and you felt your resolve slipping. You should have pushed him away, should have refocused on the mission, but the way his voice curled around you, the way his hand pressed against your back—it was dizzying.

“I wonder,” he murmured, his lips barely grazing your skin, “if the risks you take are worth the reward.”

“And what reward might that be, Colonel?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression a mix of amusement and something darker. “That depends on you.”

The air between you was electric, the lines between duty and desire blurring with every passing second. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but for the first time, you weren’t sure you wanted to win.

The room felt smaller now, the air between you charged with an energy that was equal parts danger and allure. Hans Landa’s hand remained firmly at your waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your dress in a way that felt far too intimate. You told yourself this was all part of the mission, part of the game you were playing, but the pounding of your heart betrayed you.

“Perhaps it’s my turn to ask a question,” Landa said, his voice smooth as silk. He stopped your movement abruptly, keeping you close as his dark eyes searched yours.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to maintain your composure. “What do you want to know, Colonel?”

His smile deepened, and he tilted his head slightly, as if considering his next move. “Why is it that you tremble when I touch you, but you don’t pull away?”

The question hung in the air like a challenge. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. How could you admit, even to yourself, that his presence unsettled you in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying?

“I’m not trembling,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you expected.

Landa raised an eyebrow, his smile turning almost predatory. “Are you sure?”

Before you could respond, he released your hand, only to raise it to your face, his fingers brushing the line of your jaw. The touch was light, almost reverent, but it set your nerves alight.

“Tell me, Fräulein,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the corner of your lips, “do you always lie so beautifully?”

You stepped back instinctively, but he followed, closing the distance between you in a single, fluid motion. “You seem nervous,” he said, his tone soft, but his eyes were alight with amusement. “Do I frighten you?”

Yes. He did. Not because of his reputation, though that alone was reason enough, but because of the way he made you feel. The pull toward him was undeniable, and that terrified you more than anything else.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” he said, his hand sliding from your jaw to the back of your neck. “Because I would hate to think you didn’t trust me.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. You were acutely aware of how close he was, of the heat radiating from him, of the way his gaze lingered on your lips.

“This isn’t appropriate,” you managed to say, your voice faltering.

“Appropriate?” he repeated, his tone dripping with amusement. “We are at war, my dear. The concept of appropriateness is as fragile as peace itself.”

His fingers pressed gently against the nape of your neck, tilting your head slightly. You knew you should push him away, create distance, regain control. But the intensity of his gaze rooted you in place, your body betraying your mind.

“You don’t need to be afraid of what you feel,” he murmured, his lips so close to yours now that you could feel his breath.

The words sent a surge of panic through you. Did he know? Could he see the war waging within you—the fight between duty and desire, between logic and the inexplicable pull toward him?

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

He silenced you with a quiet hum, his hand sliding from your neck to your cheek. His touch was impossibly gentle, a stark contrast to the sharp edge of his words. “You are an enigma, Fräulein,” he said softly. “And I find myself quite unable to resist unraveling you.”

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against yours—not a kiss, not yet, but a deliberate test, a dare. You froze, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice low and filled with a dangerous kind of tenderness.

You couldn’t speak. Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to remember the mission, the stakes, the lives that depended on your success. But your body betrayed you, leaning ever so slightly into his touch.

“Interesting,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your cheek as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “You seem conflicted, my dear. Care to share your thoughts?”

You stared at him, your pulse racing. “I think…” you began, your voice trembling. “I think this is dangerous.”

Landa’s smile returned, slow and deliberate. “Ah, but isn’t danger what makes life exciting?”

You hated how much you wanted to agree with him. Hated how much you wanted him to close the distance between you, to give in to the tension that had been building all evening. But you also knew that giving in would mean losing control—not just of the situation, but of yourself.

And in Hans Landa’s world, losing control could be fatal.

______________________________________________________________

The barn was quiet save for the faint rustling of hay underfoot as you stepped inside, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night’s chill. The weight of the evening still pressed against your chest, the memory of Hans Landa’s hands on your waist, his voice curling around your thoughts like smoke. You wanted to shake it off, to bury it beneath the mission, but it clung to you stubbornly.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Raine drawled from the shadows, stepping forward with his usual swagger. His sharp eyes swept over you, narrowing slightly. “Took ya long enough. Thought maybe the big bad wolf gotcha.”

“I had to make it convincing,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you crossed the room. You’d rehearsed your explanation on the way here, but now, under Aldo’s scrutiny, the words felt thin.

“You get anything useful?” he asked, leaning casually against a post, though there was nothing casual about the way he was watching you.

You nodded, recounting what you’d learned—snippets of troop movements, subtle hints about upcoming plans, just enough to prove you’d been paying attention without betraying the full scope of the evening. But even as you spoke, Raine’s gaze never left you, his expression unreadable.

“And that’s all he gave ya?” he asked when you finished, his tone flat.

“For now,” you said. “He’s careful. But he’s intrigued, and that’s something we can use.”

Raine didn’t respond right away, his dark eyes boring into yours. Finally, he stepped closer, his voice low. “You sure you ain’t the one who’s intrigued?”

The question hit harder than you expected, and you stiffened, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I know what I’m doing,” you said, a little too sharply.

“Do ya?” he shot back, his tone calm but cutting. “’Cause somethin’ tells me you ain’t as steady as you’re lettin’ on.”

You opened your mouth to argue but stopped when he stepped even closer, his voice dropping further. “Look, I ain’t gonna pretend this is easy. Landa’s a sly bastard, and I’ve seen plenty of people underestimate him. But you—you’re actin’ like you don’t know which way’s up anymore. And that’s dangerous, darlin’.”

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself not to react. “I told you, I’ve got it under control.”

Raine studied you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe you do. But lemme tell ya somethin’—that snake don’t charm folks for fun. He does it ‘cause it gets him what he wants. You start thinkin’ he’s more man than monster, you’re gonna lose. And when you lose, we all lose.”

His words cut deep, and for a moment, all you could do was stand there, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I know what’s at stake,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “And I know what he is.”

“Good,” Raine said, his tone softer but no less firm. “Just make sure you remember that next time you’re lookin’ into those snake eyes of his.”

He turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the barn. The silence felt heavier now, oppressive. You sank onto a bale of hay, pressing your palms against your temples as the weight of your own thoughts threatened to crush you.

You’d told Raine the truth—at least, part of it. You did know what Hans Landa was. But knowing didn’t make you immune to the pull of him, the way he seemed to peel back your defenses with nothing more than a glance, a word, a touch.

You told yourself it was all part of the mission, part of the role you had to play. But deep down, you couldn’t ignore the fear creeping into your chest—not fear of Landa, but fear of what he was beginning to awaken in you.

And worse, the fear that he already knew.

___________

The barn wasn’t just quiet—it was tense. You could feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air as the rest of the Basterds lingered in various states of disinterest or curiosity. Most of them didn’t even look up when you walked in. You’d been part of the team long enough to earn your place, but tonight, the stakes were higher, and so was the scrutiny.

You caught Donny’s eye first. He was sitting on an overturned crate, absently fiddling with his bat. His brow furrowed slightly when he saw you, but he didn’t say anything right away. Beside him, Wicki glanced up from cleaning his weapon and offered you a faint nod—a small but genuine gesture.

“Finally back, huh?” Donny said, breaking the silence. His tone was light, but there was an edge to it. “Thought maybe you decided to stay and dance the night away with Herr Colonel.”

You sighed, tugging your coat tighter around you. “Funny, Donowitz. Very funny.”

“You’re a regular comedian, Donny,” Wicki muttered without looking up.

“Just sayin’,” Donny continued, ignoring him. “You go toe-to-toe with the Jew Hunter himself, and all you got to show for it is a couple crumbs about troop movements? Doesn’t exactly scream success to me.”

You bristled, but before you could respond, Wicki cut in. “Don’t listen to him. He wouldn’t know subtlety if it hit him in the head.”

“Subtlety doesn’t get results,” Donny shot back, turning his attention to you. “So? Did he spill his guts, or was he too busy trying to charm you?”

“Enough,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. The barn fell silent, and you felt their eyes on you—curious, skeptical, and in some cases, accusatory.

It was Omar who broke the tension, stepping forward from where he’d been leaning against the wall. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and calm. “You okay?”

You blinked at the question, caught off guard by the genuine concern in his eyes. Omar wasn’t one to speak up much, but when he did, it was always sincere.

“I’m fine,” you said, though the words felt hollow.

Omar studied you for a moment longer before nodding. “Good. Just… don’t let Donny get in your head.”

“Hey, I’m just sayin’ what we’re all thinkin’,” Donny said, throwing up his hands. “You spend too much time cozying up to a guy like Landa, you’re gonna forget whose side you’re on.”

“That’s enough,” Wicki said sharply, his tone cutting through the room. He turned to you, his expression softening. “You did fine. We all know Landa’s not easy to crack. Just don’t let him get too close.”

“He’s not,” you said quickly, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt their weight. Were you trying to convince them, or yourself?

“Good,” Wicki said. “Because the moment he does, it’s game over. For all of us.”

The barn fell quiet again, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of their gazes, of their expectations. You’d been on plenty of missions before, but this felt different—more personal, more dangerous.

As the group began to disperse, you caught sight of Raine lingering by the door, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave you was enough: a silent warning, a reminder of the stakes.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you sank onto a bale of hay. Omar sat down beside you, his presence quiet but reassuring.

“You really okay?” he asked again, his voice softer this time.

You hesitated, the weight of the night pressing down on you. “I don’t know,” you admitted finally. “I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, and one wrong step…”

Omar nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Just don’t forget you’ve got a net,” he said. “We’ve got your back. No matter what.”

You managed a faint smile, grateful for the gesture. But as Omar’s words sank in, you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d still hold true if they knew the truth—if they knew how much of you Landa had already unraveled.

And worse, how much you feared you might let him.

_______________

The morning air in the barn was sharp, cutting through the haze of exhaustion that clung to you after last night. The Basterds were already stirring, their voices low but charged with energy. They were preparing, strategizing, and most importantly, waiting for you to play your role.

Raine stood at the center of it all, his arms crossed, radiating his usual mix of authority and impatience. As soon as you stepped inside, his eyes locked onto you.

“You’re late,” he said, though his tone was more matter-of-fact than accusatory.

“Long night,” you replied evenly, though the truth of it weighed heavier than you’d let on.

“Good,” he said, surprising you. “Means we ain’t wastin’ time. You’re meetin’ him again tonight, right?”

You nodded, and he gave a curt nod in return.

“Then we’re gonna make sure you’re ready this time. No surprises, no stumblin’. Landa’s a predator, and you’re the bait—but you’re gonna make him think he’s the one being hunted.”

The group murmured in agreement, though their faces told different stories. Wicki and Omar seemed genuinely invested, their eyes full of quiet concern. Donny, meanwhile, leaned against a post with his bat in hand, his expression skeptical.

“I don’t see why we’re wasting time,” Donny said, breaking the silence. “She already met the guy once. If she couldn’t nail him then, what makes you think she’ll do it now?”

“That’s enough,” Wicki snapped, his voice sharp.

“I’m just sayin’,” Donny continued, throwing his hands up. “She’s walking back into the same den with nothin’ but her charm and a prayer. Sounds like a suicide mission to me.”

“It’s not your call,” Raine cut in, his tone brooking no argument. He turned back to you. “Sit. We’re runnin’ through scenarios.”

You hesitated but obeyed, taking the chair in the middle of the barn as Raine gestured for another. He sat across from you, the air around him shifting as he leaned back and transformed.

In a matter of seconds, he wasn’t Aldo Raine anymore. His posture straightened, his grin turned sly, and his gaze sharpened into something unsettlingly familiar.

“Good evening, Fräulein,” he said, slipping into a near-perfect imitation of Hans Landa’s smooth drawl. “I trust you slept well after our last encounter?”

The room fell silent, all eyes on you.

“I did, thank you,” you said, forcing your voice to remain steady. “And yourself?”

Raine smirked, the tilt of his head eerily reminiscent of the real Landa. “Oh, I always sleep well, knowing I am surrounded by such… fascinating company.”

You felt your stomach twist, his mimicry cutting a little too close. Still, you straightened your back and met his gaze head-on.

“I’m sure you do,” you said, allowing a hint of playfulness to creep into your tone. “But surely a man of your… intelligence doesn’t trust so easily.”

Raine’s eyes narrowed slightly—he was testing you. “Trust is such a fickle thing, wouldn’t you agree? One must earn it. Or take it.”

“Which do you prefer?” you shot back.

The corner of his mouth twitched, and you could almost see the approval flicker in his eyes. “Ah, Fräulein, I think you’re beginning to understand me.”

“Enough of the games,” Wicki interrupted from the sidelines. “Ask her something real, something he might use to trip her up.”

Raine tilted his head, slipping further into character. “Very well, Herr Wicki. Let us see how the Fräulein fares under pressure.” He turned back to you, his expression unreadable.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice soft but cutting, “why is it that a woman of your beauty and charm would risk her neck for something as messy as war? Surely there are safer, more lucrative pursuits for someone like you.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. The real Landa would never accept a half-baked answer.

“Perhaps I enjoy the challenge,” you said finally, forcing a confident smile. “After all, a little risk keeps life interesting.”

Raine raised an eyebrow, his expression darkening. “Or perhaps,” he said, his tone turning razor-sharp, “you’re hiding something. A secret, perhaps? Something that would explain why you find yourself in such… dangerous company.”

The tension in the barn was palpable, every pair of eyes fixed on you.

“Isn’t everyone hiding something, Colonel?” you replied, leaning forward slightly. “But secrets have a way of revealing themselves to those who look closely enough. Don’t they?”

Raine’s smirk returned, and he leaned back in his chair, breaking character at last. “Not bad,” he said, his drawl slipping back into place. “You’re gettin’ there.”

“She’s better than ‘not bad,’” Omar said from the sidelines, his voice quiet but firm. “She’s ready.”

“Ready or not, she’s got no choice,” Donny muttered.

“Shut it, Donowitz,” Raine snapped, standing up and brushing off his coat. “She’s gonna be fine. But if any of you got doubts, keep ‘em to yourselves. Last thing she needs is a bunch of jackasses second-guessin’ her.”

The group dispersed slowly, the tension lingering in the air. As you stood to leave, Omar caught your arm, his grip gentle.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low.

“I’m fine,” you said, though the words felt hollow.

He studied you for a moment before nodding. “Just remember—you’ve got backup. No matter what.”

You nodded, grateful for his quiet support. But as you walked away, preparing yourself for the next meeting with Hans Landa, you couldn’t shake the feeling that no amount of preparation would shield you from what was coming.

Because this wasn’t just a game. It was a battle of wits, and you weren’t sure if you’d be the one to win.

__________

The sun was dipping below the horizon as you and Raine arrived at the edge of a quiet, cobblestoned village. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and wood smoke, and the sky was painted in muted shades of orange and purple. You felt a knot tightening in your stomach as you stepped out of the car, adjusting your coat against the chill.

“You sure about this?” Raine asked, his voice low. He leaned against the car, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger.

“No,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But that’s never stopped me before.”

Raine smirked faintly, his gaze softening for a brief moment. “Remember what we practiced. Keep him talkin’, stay in control. You feel like it’s slippin’—you signal, and I’ll be there.”

You nodded, clutching the small handbag at your side, its hidden compartment housing a blade and a cyanide pill. “I’ll be fine,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

“Damn right you will.” Raine’s expression hardened again as he straightened up, adjusting his jacket. “Now go. And don’t let that bastard rattle you.”

You didn’t respond, instead taking a deep breath and walking toward the small café where Hans Landa waited. The street was quiet, almost eerily so, and the sound of your heels clicking against the stone echoed louder than you would have liked.

When you stepped inside, the café was dimly lit, its warm glow casting long shadows across the wooden tables. And there he was, sitting at a corner table with a glass of red wine in hand, his posture relaxed but commanding.

“Fräulein,” Landa greeted, rising to his feet with a smile that was equal parts charm and menace. “You look stunning this evening.”

“Colonel Landa,” you replied, your voice steady despite the quickening of your pulse. “Always a pleasure.”

He gestured for you to sit, and you did so, carefully draping your coat over the back of the chair. As you settled in, you felt his eyes on you, sharp and calculating.

“I must say,” he began, swirling the wine in his glass, “I was quite pleased when I received your message. It’s not often I have the opportunity to enjoy such delightful company twice in as many days.”

“I suppose I should consider that a compliment,” you said, forcing a small smile.

“Indeed, you should,” he replied, his tone light but laced with something darker. “Now, tell me—what brings you back to me so soon? Surely a woman like you has other… engagements.”

You tilted your head slightly, as if considering his question. “Let’s just say I found our last conversation intriguing. And I thought it might be worth continuing.”

Landa’s smile widened, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Ah, intrigue. A dangerous game, Fräulein. But then, you do strike me as someone who enjoys a little danger.”

You didn’t flinch, instead leaning forward slightly, as if sharing a secret. “Only when it’s worth the risk.”

He chuckled, a low, almost musical sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Well said. And tell me, what is it about me that you find so… intriguing?”

You felt the weight of his gaze, the challenge in his words. “You’re a man who thrives on control,” you said carefully. “And yet, you’re willing to let your guard down—just enough—to keep things interesting. That’s not something you see every day.”

Landa tilted his head, studying you like a puzzle he was determined to solve. “And what of you, Fräulein? What secrets do you hide behind that charming smile of yours?”

Before you could answer, the waiter arrived with a bottle of wine, interrupting the moment. Landa waved him off with a polite but dismissive gesture, then poured two glasses, sliding one toward you.

“To secrets,” he said, raising his glass. “And the thrill of uncovering them.”

You hesitated for the briefest moment before raising your own glass. “To secrets,” you echoed, clinking your glass against his.

As the evening wore on, the conversation ebbed and flowed, a careful dance of words and veiled intentions. Landa’s charm was disarming, his wit sharp enough to cut through any pretense. And yet, you found yourself holding your own, the hours of preparation with Raine and the Basterds serving you well.

But there were moments—fleeting, dangerous moments—when you felt the lines blurring. When his gaze lingered a little too long, or when your own words came too easily, too naturally.

And then there was the touch. A brief, fleeting brush of his fingers against yours as he handed you the wine. It was deliberate, you were sure of it, and it sent a jolt through you that you couldn’t ignore.

“Are you all right, Fräulein?” Landa asked, his voice soft and almost genuine. “You seem… distracted.”

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, forcing a smile.

His smile returned, slow and knowing. “Good. Because I’d hate to think I was boring you.”

“Far from it,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.

The game continued, each move more calculated than the last. But as the night wore on, you couldn’t help but wonder who was truly in control—and whether you were losing yourself in the process.

The space between you and Hans Landa had all but disappeared. His eyes, dark and intense, never left yours, and the weight of his gaze made your pulse race. Each word he spoke was calculated to draw you in, to break down the walls you had so carefully built.

Landa’s fingers lightly traced the rim of his wine glass, his lips curling into that infuriating, knowing smile that seemed to suggest he was always one step ahead. “You hide so much, Fräulein,” he murmured, his voice smooth and velvet-soft. “But I can see the flickers beneath your control. The way you hesitate before responding. The way you move closer, even though you tell yourself you shouldn’t.”

You barely breathed as you absorbed his words. The room felt warmer now, despite the cool evening air that slipped through the window. Your heart pounded in your chest, the beat steady but frantic. The magnetic pull between you was undeniable. And yet, you tried to remain grounded, to remember why you were here in the first place.

But his presence was suffocating, and all your defenses, carefully put in place over the years, seemed to be crumbling under the intensity of his stare.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, your voice thick with uncertainty.

“Am I?” Landa asked, tilting his head slightly, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He leaned forward just enough to close the gap, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me, Fräulein. What are you really hiding?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you swore you could hear nothing but the sound of your own heartbeat. He was too close now, too close for comfort. His hand, casually resting on the table, was only a few inches from yours, and every inch of your body seemed to ache with the temptation to close that distance.

You tried to speak, to maintain some semblance of composure, but the words refused to form. He was drawing you in, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to resist anymore.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick with unspoken words and longing. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, and you saw it—the hunger, the desire, and something deeper—something more dangerous.

“Fräulein,” he said softly, his voice now lower, almost tender. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

His hand moved, slow and deliberate, brushing against yours. You froze for a moment, your pulse skittering at the light contact. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers lingered, just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

Your heart pounded as you realized there was no turning back. The moment had arrived—the one you had feared, and yet somehow longed for.

Landa leaned in even closer, his lips a breath away from yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his body so close now that it felt like an inevitability.

And then, without a single word more, he kissed you.

It was gentle at first, almost tentative, as though he was testing you. His lips brushed against yours in a slow, deliberate motion, and your breath caught in your throat. Your mind screamed at you to pull away, to remember the mission, to hold onto your resolve. But your body—your body betrayed you.

You kissed him back.

The kiss deepened, his hand sliding to your cheek, cupping it as though he were marking his claim. The warmth of his touch spread through your entire body, the sharp, electric feeling of his presence overwhelming your senses. You could taste the wine on his lips, the slight trace of something darker in his flavor, something that sent a shiver of desire down your spine.

You felt yourself leaning into him, unable to stop. Every part of you seemed to crave him, even as your mind screamed in protest. But the kiss was intoxicating, and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

Landa broke the kiss just long enough to pull back slightly, his breath heavy, his lips mere inches from yours. His gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“You don’t have to resist anymore, Fräulein,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with quiet triumph. “I know you feel it. The same thing I do.”

You couldn’t deny it. The desire was there, raw and undeniable. And for the first time since you’d met him, you realized that you wanted him—wanted him more than you cared to admit.

The room was spinning, your heart racing as he moved in once more, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that was full of promise and danger, a kiss that you knew would change everything.

There was no turning back now.

________

You entered the room with the others, trying to mask the unease gnawing at your stomach. You had gotten the intel—critical, valuable information—but it wasn’t just the mission that had weighed on your mind all evening. Hans Landa had invaded your thoughts more than you were willing to admit, and you knew you couldn’t stay lost in that dangerous game forever.

You placed the stack of documents on the table, watching as the Basterds gathered around, eager to hear what you had uncovered. Raine’s eyes followed you, calculating, unreadable, but you knew he’d been watching you ever since you left for your meeting with the Colonel. You didn’t dare make eye contact with him, though, afraid he’d see the truth in your gaze before you had the chance to explain.

“Well?” Donny barked, leaning forward with a grin. “What do you got for us, sweetheart?”

You took a steadying breath and forced yourself to focus. “I got everything we need,” you began, pushing the documents toward the group. “Landa’s plans, the key locations, and personnel lists. Even some of his more private dealings that could give us leverage.”

The room buzzed with excitement as the others pored over the papers, murmurs of approval and strategizing filling the air. They hadn’t noticed the tension in your posture yet, but Raine had. His gaze never left you, his expression too calm, too knowing.

As you stood there, watching the team digest the information, a creeping feeling of guilt weighed down on you. You had done your job—but at what cost? The memory of Landa’s touch, his quiet whispers, his deliberate flirty glances… it was all too much to process. You had let him get too close, and you weren’t sure what to do with it. What had started as a simple mission had turned into something far more complicated.

As the others discussed the next move, you stood off to the side, pretending to listen while your thoughts wandered back to the Colonel. You didn’t see Raine approach until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence commanding and intense. He wasn’t smiling—not that he ever did—but there was an unmistakable hardness in his eyes.

The moment the others were occupied with the details of their next plan, Raine spoke. “We need to talk.” His voice was low and clipped, and there was no room for negotiation in his tone.

You stiffened, swallowing the lump in your throat. “It’s been a long night, Raine,” you said, forcing a smile. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“No,” he said sharply. “Now. In private.”

His gaze was unwavering, and though you knew it wasn’t a request, you couldn’t bring yourself to defy him. You nodded, and he led you out of the room, his footsteps echoing through the halls as you walked silently behind him.

When you finally reached a small, empty room, Raine turned to face you, his eyes cold and assessing. “What happened?” he asked, his voice quiet but filled with a tension you could almost touch. “You’ve been back for almost an hour, and you haven’t said a word about what went on. But I know you’re hiding something. The others think you’re a hero—giving us everything we need—but I know better.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words died in your throat. There was no easy way out of this.

“You’re right. I—I got the intel,” you began slowly, your voice shaking despite yourself. “But it’s… it’s not just that, Raine. I… I let him get too close. He—he kissed me.”

Raine didn’t flinch. He didn’t look surprised, but you could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. His jaw tightened, and the air between you grew heavy with tension. “Why?” His voice was strained, and for the first time, you saw cracks in his usually unshakable demeanor.

You struggled to find the words. “I didn’t plan it, okay? I wasn’t trying to let it happen—it just did. I… I thought I could keep my distance, keep focused on the mission. But he—he’s manipulative, Raine. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I—” You stopped, unable to finish the sentence. The truth was, you had felt something too. Something you couldn’t deny. And that was the problem.

“You let him kiss you.” Raine’s voice was thick now, the disbelief and frustration slipping through. “You let him use you, play you like a damn fiddle, and for what? Some information? What are you really after?”

The sting of his words hit harder than you expected. “It wasn’t like that,” you shot back, voice wavering. “I didn’t—he didn’t control me. But it… it did become personal. I’m not proud of it, but that’s the truth.”

Raine took a slow breath, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he processed your words. “You were supposed to be using him. Not the other way around.”

You looked down, guilt rushing through you like a tidal wave. “I know. I failed.”

He shook his head, taking a step closer. His eyes were full of something you couldn’t quite place—anger, sure, but there was something deeper. Something… personal.

“Do you think I don’t know how this works?” Raine asked, voice now quieter, more intense. “You think I haven’t had to walk that line too? To make sure you don’t get caught up in something you shouldn’t?” He stepped forward, his presence so overwhelming it made your knees weak. “You’re not the only one with demons. You’re not the only one who gets tangled in the mess.” His eyes flickered down to your lips for just a second before he pulled back, raking a hand through his hair. “I just… I thought you were better than this.”

You looked up at him, eyes searching his face, but there was no warmth in his gaze—just an unspoken distance that seemed to grow between you with every word.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, but it sounded hollow even to you. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean to let him in.”

Raine’s gaze softened for just a brief moment, but then it hardened again, his jaw clenched tightly. “You’re not just playing a part, [Y/N]. You’re putting us all in danger. And I’m not sure I can forgive you for that.”

You swallowed, the weight of his words pressing on you, but you knew you had no choice but to face the consequences. “I understand.”

There was a long silence before Raine spoke again, his voice quieter now. “You’re lucky you brought back something useful. But don’t expect me to forget this. Not yet.”

With that, he turned and walked toward the door, his steps slow but sure. He didn’t look back, and for a moment, you thought he might not say anything else.

But before he left, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. “You should have known better, [Y/N].” And then, without another word, he was gone, leaving you standing in the dim room, haunted by his words and the decisions you had made.

You had no idea how this would end, but one thing was certain—you had just crossed a line you couldn’t uncross.

__________

It had been a few days since you last saw Hans, and though you tried to bury the thoughts of him beneath the weight of the mission, it was no use. His absence gnawed at you like a persistent ache, one you couldn’t ignore. Every attempt to focus on the next steps felt hollow, and the silence between you both felt deafening. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had heard from him.

Raine, meanwhile, still hadn’t said much to you. His cold demeanor was unsettling, the weight of his disappointment hanging over every interaction, but it was Hans that occupied your mind. You told yourself you had to stay strong, that you had a job to do. But the pull toward him, the memory of his touch, his words, was a constant undercurrent that you couldn’t escape.

After a particularly grueling morning spent preparing for the mission, you needed to clear your head. You slipped away unnoticed, deciding a walk in the nearby woods was the best way to silence the thoughts that crowded your mind. The air was crisp, and each step you took felt like it might ground you in something real.

The walk was supposed to offer some clarity, but the longer you walked, the more the tension inside you built. You tried to focus on the sound of your boots crunching the fallen leaves beneath you, but it was impossible to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest.

It was then, as you rounded a corner, that you stopped. That familiar, unnerving feeling washed over you again, and you knew without turning around that someone was there. You didn’t need to hear his voice, though you did, soft and purposeful.

“[Y/N].” His voice, smooth and sharp like a blade, made you tense. You turned slowly to face him.

Hans stood at the edge of the woods, watching you with an expression that was harder to read than usual. His sharp eyes tracked your every move as though trying to figure you out, but there was something more beneath his usual calculating gaze—something raw, something that made your heart race for reasons you weren’t sure you wanted to explore.

For a moment, you said nothing. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, to form the words.

He took a step closer, his usual grace now tinged with a sense of urgency. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, his voice a quiet accusation, though there was no anger in his tone. It was a statement wrapped in vulnerability. “I didn’t think you would leave me hanging like this, [Y/N].”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as you struggled to maintain control of the situation. “It’s not that, Hans,” you said, the words almost choking you. “I’ve just… had a lot on my plate.” The lie fell from your lips so easily that it terrified you. But it was the truth, wasn’t it? You were trying to do your job and keep a distance.

His eyes flickered over you, narrowing slightly. He stepped closer, and you instinctively took a step back, feeling the tension between you grow. “Complicated, I’m sure. But don’t pretend it’s just that.” He paused, looking you up and down as if seeing through the barriers you had built. “We both know it’s more.”

You held his gaze, biting your lip. He was right. You were lying to both him and yourself. You couldn’t deny what was there, what had been there between you. But it was dangerous. He was dangerous.

“I thought I could keep my distance,” you murmured, but the admission sounded weak even to your own ears. “But it’s… harder than I expected.”

Hans studied you for a moment, his eyes dark and intense. “Harder than you expected?” he repeated, stepping closer still, the air between you crackling with tension. His gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt your pulse quicken. “I think you’ve been running from something far more than just distance.”

Your heart raced as he took another step, his breath almost too close. You tried to hold back, to remind yourself of the lines you shouldn’t cross, but you could feel the pull toward him again, that magnetic force you couldn’t resist. His fingers brushed against your arm as he reached for you, sending a shiver through your body.

Before you could stop yourself, you were stepping into him, drawn toward the heat of his presence. His lips brushed against your ear, and the sensation made you gasp quietly. “I’ve missed you, you know,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You didn’t know how to respond, your mind a jumble of conflicting emotions. You should pull away. You should stop this before it went any further. But every fiber of your being screamed that it was too late, that you already had.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you whispered, barely aware of the words slipping out until it was too late.

His gaze flicked up, a dark smirk curling on his lips. “Then why have you been hiding from me?” he asked, his voice thick with quiet amusement. “I’m not the kind of man you can just ignore. I won’t let you pretend like none of this matters.”

Before you could react, his hand cupped your face, pulling you toward him. There was no hesitation this time. His lips found yours in a kiss that was fierce, hungry, and all-consuming. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a claim, a challenge, a test.

You gasped as he deepened it, his hands moving to your back, pulling you flush against him. You had no idea how long you stood there, tangled in him, but it felt like time had frozen. The world around you vanished, and all that existed was the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his hands, and the wild, uncontrollable pull between you.

When the kiss finally broke, you were breathless, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Hans rested his forehead against yours, his hands still on your back, keeping you close.

“You see now,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You can’t hide from this. Not anymore.”

You closed your eyes, your pulse still racing, and you knew in that moment that you couldn’t deny it any longer. You didn’t want to.

The question was no longer whether you could stay away from him. The question now was whether you would ever be able to walk away at all.

The tension between you and Hans was undeniable, thick enough to choke on. Every moment spent near him, every word exchanged, felt like a tightrope you were walking, straining at the edges of your loyalty to the Basterds and your growing feelings for the man before you.

The quiet of the night was broken only by the soft rustling of leaves in the cool breeze as you stood facing him, your heart racing. You couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer. You had already begun to fall for him, and now, you knew there was no going back.

“I need to tell you something,” you said, your voice steady but filled with the weight of the words you were about to speak. “Something important.”

Hans, ever the patient observer, simply nodded, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “I’m listening.”

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “I’m not just some civilian, Hans. I’m not just… a woman on a mission. I’m part of a group. The Basterds.”

The revelation hung in the air, thick with the consequences of your confession. You could feel Hans’s gaze on you, his sharp eyes searching your face for any sign of deception.

“The Basterds?” he repeated, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “You’ve been one of them this whole time?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “Yes. I’ve been gathering intel, keeping tabs on you, your movements. That’s why I’ve been working with you. To get closer, to learn everything I could.”

A long silence followed, the weight of your words sinking in between you. Hans’s face softened, his expression unreadable. You had expected anger or betrayal, but instead, there was only a calm scrutiny in his eyes.

“You’ve been playing both sides,” he said slowly, his voice cold and distant now. “This whole time, you’ve been working for them.”

You swallowed, the bitterness of your betrayal settling deep in your chest. “I didn’t want it to happen this way. I thought… I thought I could keep it separate, but now I—”

Hans cut you off, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. His eyes searched yours, a small smirk curling his lips. “And now you’re torn. Between duty and desire, between loyalty and… something else.”

You felt the weight of his words. “I don’t know what I feel anymore,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I never expected this. I never expected you.”

Hans’s expression softened, and he reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face with a surprising tenderness. “I can’t say I’m thrilled by your deception,” he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing. “But I can’t say I’m not intrigued by you, [Y/N]. Despite everything, I see something in you. Something that’s… real.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the pull between you growing stronger. “Intrigued?” you echoed, unsure of where he was going with this.

He smiled, a slow, almost dangerous grin. “Yes, intrigued. Because, despite the fact that you’ve been lying to me, I don’t think you’re as loyal to them as you pretend to be.”

His eyes bored into yours, and you felt yourself faltering, unsure of how to respond. The tug of attraction toward him, the pull of everything you had been trying to suppress, grew harder to ignore. He was playing you, yes, but there was also something genuine in the way he spoke to you now, something you had never expected from someone like him.

“You’re not what they think you are,” he continued, his voice quieter now, more coaxing. “And I can offer you more than they ever could. All you need to do is make a choice.”

The weight of his words hit you like a punch. The life he was offering seemed tempting—freedom from the war, safety, a place by his side. But the life you had built with the Basterds, with Raine and the others, was all you had known for so long. Could you really walk away from that?

“I… I don’t know if I can make that choice,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’ve been in this fight for so long. I can’t just leave.”

Hans’s gaze hardened slightly, and his grip on your arm tightened just enough to make you feel the intensity of his emotions. “You don’t need to leave the fight, [Y/N]. You just need to leave them.”

Your mind spun at his words. “What do you mean?”

“Leave the Basterds. Come with me,” he said, his voice calm, but there was a sharp edge to it now. “I can give you everything you need. A life where you aren’t just a pawn in their war. You can be with me. You can be free.”

His words hit you harder than anything before, and you could feel yourself wavering. The life you had fought so hard for was beginning to seem insignificant in the face of what he was offering. You wanted to say no, to fight it, but something in you yearned for the freedom he promised.

“You’re asking me to betray them,” you said, your voice shaking, but you couldn’t hide the desire that was creeping into your chest.

“I’m asking you to stop betraying yourself,” Hans said, his voice coaxing, but firm. “You don’t owe them anything. But you owe yourself the chance to choose something real.”

You stood there, torn between the two lives that were pulling you in opposite directions. The Basterds, Raine, everything you had worked for—they were all part of you, part of the fight. But Hans… Hans was offering something new, something intoxicating.

“I… I can’t just walk away,” you whispered, your voice faltering, but even as you said it, you knew you were already considering it.

Hans stepped closer, his eyes dark with desire. “You already have, haven’t you? You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t already know.”

Before you could respond, the sudden crack of a branch broke the moment, and you both turned sharply. Raine stood there, frozen in shock, his gaze flicking between you and Hans, disbelief written across his face.

“[Y/N]?” His voice was a mixture of confusion and betrayal. “What is this? You… you’ve been with him all along?”

You felt your heart sink at the sight of your dear friend, the man who had stood by you, the man who had trusted you. But now, with Hans at your side, offering you everything, how could you turn back?

Raine’s face twisted with pain and anger as he took a step forward, his hand instinctively moving to the pistol at his side. “I should’ve known. I thought we were friends, but this… you’re one of them.”

The words cut through you like a knife, but you didn’t have time to respond before Raine’s hand was on his weapon, the tension crackling between you all.

“I can’t let you betray us, [Y/N],” Raine said, his voice thick with emotion. “I won’t let you.”

You could feel the pull between the two men in your life, each offering you something completely different, and for a moment, you felt paralyzed. But as Raine’s gun moved toward you, your body reacted before your mind could. You pulled your own weapon and aimed it squarely at him.

The pain in his eyes was the last thing you saw before you fired.

Raine collapsed to the ground, his body twitching as life left him. The air around you seemed to freeze, the weight of what you had just done settling heavily in your chest. But Hans’s hand slipped into yours, steady and sure, pulling you away from the scene without a word.

“You made the right choice,” Hans whispered, his voice calm as he led you away.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. The loss, the betrayal—it all felt like it was choking you. But as you walked side by side with Hans, leaving everything behind, you knew that there was no going back. The choice had been made.

You had chosen him.

And nothing would ever be the same again.

[ghostyundercover]

First chapter will be out soon if you re still interested in it😏

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

[stupendouspizzacomputer]

INSANITY (Hellaverse x isekai male reader) Winners (Part 4):

•Steven (Steven Universe/Stevenuniverse)

•Connie (Steven Universe/Steveuniverse)

•Greg (Steven Universe/Stevenuniverse)

•Amethyst (Steven Universe/Steveuniverse)

•Garnet (Steven Universe/Stevenuniverse)

•Pearl (Steven Universe/Stevenuniverse)

•Bismuth (Steven Universe/Stevenuniverse)

•Peridot (Steven Universe/Stevenuniverse)

•Lapys (Steven Universe/Stevenuniverse)

•Masahiro Inoue (Decade/Kamenrider)

•Mike (Piemations)

•Zach (Piemations)

•Holly (Stevenuniverse)

•Undyne (Undertale)

•Sans (Undertale)

•Papyrus (Undertale)

•Tessa (Murder drones/Murderdrones/Glitch)

•Aldo (Aldogiovanniegiacomo)

•Giovanni (Aldogiovanniegiacomo)

•Giacomo (Aldogiovanniegiacomo)

•Aloy (Horizontheforbiddenwest)

•Mokey (Mokeyshow/SrPelo)

•Robin (TeenTitansGo/CartoonNetwork/CartoniPerRagazzi)

•Cyborg (TeenTitansGo/CartoonNetwork/CartoniPerRagazzi)

•Raven (TeenTitansGo/CartoonNetwork/CartoniPerRagazzi)

•Starfire (TeenTitansGo/CartoonNetwork/CartoniPerRagazzi)

•Beast Boy (TeenTitansGo/CartoonNetwork/CartoniPerRagazzi)

•PaoloBonolis (CiaoDarwin)

•Fern (Frieren)

•Stark (Frieren)

•Frieren (Frieren)

•Himmel (Friren)

•Heiter (Frieren)

•Eisen (Frieren)

•Tougo Asagaki (RedRanger)

•Ein (WorthlessAppraiser)

•Hanni (Newjeans)

•Haerin (Newjeans)

•Minji (Newjeans)

•Hyein (Newjeans)

•Danielle (Newjeans)

•Aijou Rentarou (100Girlfriends)

•Hanazono Hakari (100Girlfriends)

•Inda Karane (100Girlfriends)

•Yoshimoto Shizuka (100Girlfriends)

•Eiai Nano (100Girlfriends)

•Yakuzen Kusuri (100Girlfriends)

•Hanazono Hahari (100Girlfriends)

•Haraga Kurumi (100Girlfriends)

•Meido Mei (100Girlfriends)

•Sutou Iku (100Girlfriends)

•Utsukushisugi Mimimi (100Girlfriends)

•Kakure Meme (100Girlfriends)

•Iin Chiyo (100Girlfriends)

•Yamato Nadeshiko (100Girlfriends)

•Momi Momiji (100Girlfriends)

•Yakuzen Yaku (100Girlfriends)

•Torotoro Kishika (100Girlfriends)

•Kedarui Aashii (100Girlfriends)

•Nakaji Uto (100Girlfriends)

•Meido Mai (100Girlfriends)

•Bonnouji Momoha (100Girlfriends)

•Baio Rin (100Girlfriends)

•Hifumi Suu (100Girlfriends)

•Kaho Eira (100Girlfriends)

•Nekonari Tama (100Girlfriends)

•Saiki Himeka (100Girlfriends)

•Dei Matsuri (100Girlfriends)

•Usami Shiina (100Girlfriends)

•Zetsubouda Meru (100Girlfriends)

•Tomogara Saki (100Girlfriends)

•Nemui Nemu (100Girlfriends)

•Yuke (Aparida)

•Marina (Aparida)

•Rain (Aparida)

•Silk (Aparida)

[risingtripletaurus]

risingtripletaurus' brad pitt fic recs

~~~

personal faves - 🗽

thats^^ more of a personal indicator for me <3 i love all these fics SO much

~~~

darling brad

bike rides and cigarettes by @hobisfavoritespritecan 🗽

see you later by @all-lit-up 🗽

what it would be like dating brad pitt by @all-lit-up

cliff booth

you're safe here by @tiredbeebo 🗽

dating cliff would include... by @fangirl-imagines

the stuntman and the singer by @companionjones

blueberries and cigarettes by @hobisfavoritespritecan

following all by @darling-i-read-it

sleep

scars 🗽

aldo "the apache" raine

thank you by @motelgirl 🗽

confident by @michelle-is-writing

distance by @mlmxreader 🗽

gift by @mlmxreader 🗽

worried fates by @darling-i-read-it 🗽

warm enough by @michelle-is-writing

following all by @sergeant-donny-donowitz

hey lover

goodnight 🗽

tristan ludlow

creek getaway by @darling-i-read-it 🗽

braided flowers by @darling-i-read-it

joe black

coffee pot by @darling-i-read-it 🗽

enchanted by @darling-i-read-it

[michelle-is-writing]

Warm Enough, Aldo Raine

Request: AH HI MICHELLE! im peeking into your inbox to submit a request for an aldo raine x reader fic please! so when the basterds are all relaxing around the fire or when they finally get a break aldo makes sure that the reader is comfortable and warm, and the others make fun of him for it, but the reader assures him she's happy? oh my days fluffy aldo >> !! I was so happy to do this one :)

Aldo Raine is usually a harsh leader, never afraid to lay down a strict set of rules for his soldiers. So, when a soldier asked if they could go to a bar tonight to “sniff out any possible nazis,” I was expecting Aldo to say no; especially since I know Aldo doesn’t like to take care of any drunks. However, to my surprise, he said yes. He hardly seem bothered by the idea, instead acting as if it were a great idea.

What shocked me even more was the fact that Aldo never said a word when the men all ordered a pint - in fact, the moment he did speak up was to order one for himself as well. I was quite happy to see Aldo let loose a little as he allowed himself to open up and share a few stories among the group. He’s always so strict around everyone that no one ever gets to see the carefree side of him that I adore. He smiles more, laughs more, and I love to see it.

Somehow, after a bit of time passes, Aldo and I end up lying against the back of the large but rugged brown booth currently seating most of the Basterds. His arm stays wrapped around me tightly, with one hand resting against my legs in his lap and the other gently holding my waist. Meanwhile, my head rests against his shoulder, nuzzled deep into his neck as the touch of his skin keeps my face warm. Unfortunately, it’s a bit chilly in this bar, and even though I’m wearing a coat, the cold still nips at my skin. Thankfully, I have my own personal heater right beside me.

“Darlin’, you comfortable?” Aldo asks, causing me to look up at him and nod with a smile. “You cold or anything?” He further asks, moving to make sure his large coat is wrapped around me as well. No matter what, he always makes sure I’m okay, even if I don’t say anything.

“No, actually, you’re keeping me warm,” I tell him before pushing myself further into his hold so I can nuzzle my face back into his neck. A small laugh falls from his lips at my comment, a few short seconds passing before his arms tighten and hold me even closer to him.

“Well, I can’t let you go cold, now can I?” Aldo asks, leaning down to connect his lips to mine in a soft, sensual kiss. I reach a hand up to cup his cheek, holding him where he is before moving in just a slight bit closer, but still remaining cautious of the many eyes around us. However, in spite of us being in the back, it doesn’t shield us from the whistling and teasing the guys throw at us.

“You lot, get a room!”

“Lieutenant, get it!”

“There are children here!”

Of course, Donny is to be credited for the last comment, his joke causing me to pull away and laugh. Embarrassed, Aldo stares at me for a moment, unsure of what to do. He’s never been one for public affection; in fact, this is probably the first time he’s ever gave me more than a peck in front of the men. That doesn’t mean he’s cold to me in front of them, but he’s a bit more reserved… a lot more reserved.

Giving him a small smile, I watch as Aldo visibly relaxes before fully snapping out of his trance and falling back into his leadership role. “If I’m not mistaken, aren’t you two supposed to be investigatin’ the second floor?” Aldo speaks up, before turning his head to another pair of lads. “And you two ‘ere supposed to ask the bartender about the area, right?”

At first, the men are slow in getting up before casually speeding off to their original missions, too scared to linger any longer in Aldo’s presence. Following them are the remaining soldiers, just as scared as they are. This leaves only Donny sitting at our table, sipping at his beer as he scans through the city’s newspaper, unperturbed by Aldo’s words. Donny doesn’t care; he talks just as much shit as Aldo does, after all.

Leaning back down to face me once again, Aldo smiles, his whole body becoming relaxed once more as his focus shifts back onto us. “Babydoll, you look so cute right now.”

Aldo’s comment makes me furrow my eyebrows at him, a little confused. “And why is that?” I ask, making him smile.

Leaning closer, Aldo gently brushes his nose against mine, letting out a small ‘hmph’ as he does so. “Yer’ nose and cheeks are pink from the cold,” he points out, sneaking a hand around my thigh while avoiding other people’s views. “but that’s okay, I don’t mind warming you up, darlin’.”

Immediately, my cheeks feel as if they’re on fire and I have to close my eyes to look away from Aldo’s lust-filled gaze. With just a few words and small touches, Aldo has me under some spell of his and I’m left to enjoy the attention he gives. Aldo is always kind and loving to me, but if he’s drinking, his affection is turned up to a whole new level.

Just before Aldo begins to nip at my neck, Donny speaks up again. “I’m still here, you nymphos.”

At his comment, I scoff. “How am I a nympho?” I ask, simply astounded.

“No, no, he’s right,” Aldo states, bringing his face back up to mine. He has a shadow of a smirk that only I can see, and it almost makes me worried about his next words. “Let’s go to the bathroom where we won’t bother anyone, yeah?”

Quickly processing his words, my face feels as if it’s on fire and I hide against him. On the other hand, Donny lets out a small “dear God” followed by a sigh. He has definitely had enough to drink, and even if there were any enemies here, Donny would have to take over the situation as Aldo simply cannot.

“I think we need to head back to camp,” I murmur to Aldo, making him chuckle. “You’re a bit… tipsy.”

“Honey, I’m more than just a bit tipsy,” he corrects me, “but I agree, we need to head back. Donny,” he states, looking over to his friend, “you take over from here.”

Donny simply nods at his request, sending us away with a small wave. With that, Aldo and I head out of the bar and in the direction of our campsite, the walk taking around fifteen minutes with plenty of twists and turns in order to find the secluded part of the woods we call home right now. Throughout the entire walk, Aldo keeps his arm around me, ready to defend me against anything that came our way. Even when under the influence, Aldo still maintains his protector position, and unfortunately, he maintains his leader role too, but those aren’t the best roles for him when he’s drunk.

After apologizing for Aldo’s harsh, yet slurred words to the men who stayed at the campsite on watch, I guide Aldo to our shared tent and change out of my clothes. Immediately, Aldo gets distracted by this, but it only encourages him to hurry up and change out of his civilian clothes as well. Climbing under our covers on the makeshift blanket mattress, we both cling to each other for warmth, albeit with Aldo emitting a bit more heat than usual with the help of the alcohol. It almost knocks me out as I’m already exhausted, but Aldo’s incessant kisses against the top of my head keep me awake.

“I’m so thankful for you, honey,” Aldo whispers, making me smile. “I’m so glad I have you here with me, helping us, helping me save people's lives,” He adds, leaning over to press a kiss to my cheek. “Just like the same way you saved mine.”

His drunken confession brings tears to my eyes, not being able to stop them as they fall from the corners of my eyes. Aldo holds me closer to him in response to my sudden mood change, his arms still gentle and comforting as he does so. His words bring an ache to my heart while also bringing a warmth I’ve never felt before. To no one’s surprise, Aldo doesn’t open up much and he has to really know or love you to reveal even the slightest bit about himself. I know so much about Aldo, but I never knew he felt like that.

Turning over in his arms, I gaze up at his face before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He kisses me back gently, almost hesitantly, but it’s less sloppy than the kisses he pressed to my head. Our kiss continues until Aldo pulls away and rests his head on his pillow, looking at me through his blue eyes that show so much, and yet, still hold so much back. “Among all the things I’ve seen an’ been through, you, babydoll, are the best to come out of it,” he admits, his southern voice slow and peaceful. “I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes… but honey,” Aldo then clasps my hand in his, his fingers finding their way between mine. “One day, when this war is over, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you for havin’ to deal with me and my men, an’ that I tell you is a promise.”

[motelgirl]

Thank you

Aldo Raine x Reader

Y/n walked, surprisingly casually, into the tent.

“Y/n? The fuck happened to your arm?” Aldo spoke, slight panic in his tone as he looked over at Y/n’s bleeding arm. Her entire sleeve was now stained dark red. He began to search through his things beside the bed for a medical kit.

“Oh yeah that. Got shot, I kind of forgot about it, something to do with adrenaline, Wicki said,” Y/n tried to keep her voice calm, however when she looked down at her arm now she felt a slight fear rise in her, as well as pain. When she was out fighting, she didn’t seem as bothered by the wound because of everything else that was happening, however now she was safe and it was quiet, she realised. Aldo moved towards her, moving his hand to her shoulder and gently sitting her down on his bed. He placed his hand on Donny’s handkerchief, that had been haphazardly tied around the wound to keep the bleeding to a minimum; it didn’t work. She clenched her jaw as she felt the material move off the wound, she knew there was worse to come when she saw the bottle of whiskey on the table.

“You should have come here sooner. Why did no one tell me?” Aldo rambled, almost to himself, as he moved the material from her arm and began to unscrew the bottle of whiskey.

“Why are you so worried, i’m fine, just need a few stitches probably,” she tried to calm him. It was strange seeing him act like this. He poured a tiny amount of the substance onto a cloth and doused it on the wound, making her bite her lip hard to not show the pain.

“Why am I worried? Y/n, you’ve stood by me through everything, hell I don’t have a single memory where you’re not there,” he stopped fixing her wound for a moment to look at her, his face serious yet slightly soft. She smiled at him.

“God damn it Y/n, the fuck am I meant to do if you leave. I’ll be stuck with those Basterds out there,”

She laughed, however his words seemed to echo around her head. Aldo finally finished tending to her bullet wound, wrapping a bandage around her arm and closing the box. She smiled at him gratefully and he returned it, their gaze holding just a moment too long.

“Y/n are you oka- woah,” Donny rushed into the tent, stopping when he found the two close looking at each other. The pair stepped back, both realising how close they were to kissing.

“I’ll be out in a second,” she gave him a quick grin as he left the tent, before turning back to Aldo. He looked at the ground with his jaw tight.

“Thanks,” she broke the silence. His eyes raised to look at her, yet again they where in extremely close proximity of each other.

“What for?” he asked, his accent strong as ever.

“For,” she paused, gathering her thoughts. There was so much she had to thank him for. “For everything, Aldo. For helping me get over Tommy when we where teenagers, for getting me out of that godforsaken house of mine. God damn there’s about a hundred other things I could add to the list. I just, I never really got a chance to say thank you,” she finally looked into his eyes. His smile said everything she needed to know. He pulled her into a tight hug, something he never really did, constantly cautious of her arm.

Y/n getting shot made him realise how much he appreciates her. Loves her. However he didn’t know it had the exact same effect on her. With his hand draped over her shoulder, the pair left the tent and sat by the fire with the rest of the group. By now, the sky was pitch black and they where all sitting and laughing, when they noticed the two sit down.

“Hey, you okay? I didn’t get chance to ask before,” Donny asked, his eyes moving towards Aldo who glared at him.

“I’m fine Donny, honest.” She flashed her famous smile and the night moved on.

By around one am, the last few people had gone to their respective beds, leaving Aldo and Y/n sat by the fire. They where reminiscing on a time back in Tennessee, years ago, when they where in high school.

“I ain’t ever seen you cry over a boy before, it was crazy,”

“Yeah, well I really liked him, for some reason. The more I think back on it the more I realise how much of a dick he actually was,” she laughed, moving her head playfully into his shoulder.

“Yeah he was a dick.” It got silent for a moment. Y/n weighed up her options in her head, before deciding.

“Hey, you know, I never got a chance to give you this earlier,” she looked at Aldo, who glanced towards her confused.

“Give me what?” She laughed lightly, moving her hand behind his neck and kissing him. Immediately, he kissed back. His hard hands moved, one at the top of her neck and the other the bottom of her back. She was passionate, like this would be the last time she would ever get to be near him, touch him, kiss him. Eventually, they pulled apart, but Aldo’s hand stayed lightly on her cheek.

“That,” she breathed out.

[imaginesbymk]

Being a Basterd & Aldo Raine’s Child Would Include...

NON REQUESTED

recruiting you right away just because he’s your dad and he has to look after you

though there are times he is confident that you can handle things on your own and expects a lot 

pretty scary but annoying when he lectures you

he looks like a cool parent, but he’s strict

he has to be that strict parent at times and it’s always in front of the guys, so they awkwardly watch 

he admits he has favourites from the Basterds, and you’re his favourite

aldo is absolutely overprotective and doesn’t want you to go overboard with the job unless he believes you’re truly ready

he kind of sheds a tear when he sees you all confident

dad jokes

convincing you that he speaks the most italian, but you know he doesn’t

“dad... no one is gonna buy it.”

“they’re gonna buy it.”

his southern accent “DAMMIT Y/N!”

he lets you drink

gives you a swiss knife as a gift

insists you can speak italian fluently

he makes sure he doesn’t let anyone hit on you, and he actually makes stiglitz or donny watch over you

_ 

TAGLIST / ask to be tagged via inbox!

[fandoms-are-my-friends-1321]

The Hunter and the Apache

Okay, this is my first time writing for Aldo, but I promise to give it my best effort. Thank you @sergeant-donny-donowitz for allowing me to brain storm this idea! As always characters and the gif are not mine. I hope you all enjoy it!!

Description: The Nazis are well aware of the Basterds and the many powerful members of the group. However, a new member of the Basterds has made an impact, and their skills with hatchets are unmatched

Warnings: gore, violence, langauage, the Basterds kicking butt and taking names like normal

The Basterds had surrounded a small group of Nazis, and corned them in a secluded section of forest outside of the village they were staying in. Tracking the Nazis down was easy, and now that they had the enemy in their grasp, they would be able to get all of the information that they needed.

“Now, I need you to tell me where more of your little buddies are,” Aldo said as he glared at the Nazi that sat in front of him.

The Nazi merely scoffed at Aldo. “Why should I tell you anything, stupid American.”

“Well, if you don’t tell me what I need to know, I’m callin’ the Hunter of Harrisburg over. If you’ve heard of Aldo the Apache and The Bear Jew, you had to have heard about the Hunter of Harrisburg.”

“Yeah, and they don’t take mercy on Nazi assholes like you,” Donny chimed in as he twirled his bat around. The other Basterds all shouted in agreement.

Every Nazi in German-occupied France knew exactly who the Hunter of Harrisburg was. Some thought that they were a phantom, or perhaps the devil. The Hunter of Harrisburg was known for appearing out of thin air and taking out victims with one skillful throw of a hatchet.

“I’m not scared of this American pig you call the Hunter of Harrisburg,” the Nazi snarled.

Aldo simply chuckled. “Oh that’s where you’re wrong because the Hunter of Harrisburg is no pig. If anything, their faster than a hawk huntin’ a jack rabbit.” The leader of the Basterds was met by defiant silence.

Finally, one of the other Nazi captives couldn’t take the intense pressure any longer. He sprung to his feet and began to run out of the clearing. None of the Basterds moved to shoot the man, but instead let Aldo take charge. Aldo gave a short whistle, and a figure flung down from out of the trees above the clearing. The figure landed on their feet, and with one smooth movement of their arm, the hatchet they were holding flew through the air. The hatchet made contact with its target, and crimson liquid tinted the Nazis green uniform.

All of the Basterds cheered as the figure sauntered over to the dying Nazi. They pulled the hatchet from the Nazis spine, and leaned over to whisper into his ear. “Have fun in hell, you piece of shit.”

While the figure begun to remove the scalp from the Nazi, Aldo turned back to the Nazi in front of him with a smirk resting on his face. “Still not afraid of the Hunter of Harrisburg?”

“Good shot, Y/N,” Hugo Stiglitz said as Y/N walked over to where the other basterds were standing. Y/N smiled at the usually silent man. “Thank you, Stiglitz. It was a very nice shot if I do say so myself.”

“Ya know I could have got that guy,” Donny commented as he grinned at Y/N.

“You wish, darlin’. I don’t think that big bat of your’s would have travelled that far of a distance,” Y/N replied. Their voice was twinged with the same Southern accent as Aldo.

Aldo and Y/N had met back in Tennessee. Y/N lived in Harrisburg, which was a few hours away from Aldo’s hometown, and they would often go to him to buy their supply of moonshine. In return, Y/N would give Aldo firewood to use in his cabin. Y/N’s toned arms were evidence of how often they split wood, and it was well known that Y/N was the best hatchet thrower in Tennessee.

When Aldo first formed the Basterds, he didn’t want to wrap Y/N up in the dangers that awaited in Europe. He cared too much about them, and he didn’t want to see them harmed. However, Y/N caught wind of the group that Aldo was a part of, and they took it into their own hands to join the Basterds. Now after earning their reputation as the Hunter of Harrisburg, the Basterds treated them like family, and the Nazis were terrified of them.

Y/N tossed the scalp down at Aldo’s feet and held their hatchet close to the head Nazi’s throat, the blood of his comrade still dripping from the silver edge of the weapon. “You better start talkin’, or you’ll end up just like your friend over there.”

The Nazi automatically began to tell all of the information that they needed to know, which was translated by Wicki. After the information was gathered, Hugo and Omar shot the other Nazis that remained in the group, leaving the head Nazi quivering in front of Aldo and Y/N.

“Now, I’m gonna give you somethin’ you can’t take off, and then you’re gonna run back to your commander and tell him that the Basterds are comin’ for every last one of you Nazi scum,” Aldo declared as he plunged his knife into the Nazis forehead. The blade pierced through the Nazis skin, and he howled in pain.

After the Nazi started to run back in the direction of the village, all the while holding his bleeding temple, the Basterds headed in the opposite direction. They had more Nazis to hunt, and with the directions that they received, they knew exactly where to go. The other Basterds took the lead at the front of the group, while Aldo and Y/N trailed at the back.

As Y/N whiped the dark fluid from the silver edge of her hatchet, Aldo snaked his arm around Y/N’s waist. “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are when you take down Nazis,” Aldo whispered in Y/N’s ear.

“I don’t think you have, but I’m glad that you get as much enjoyment out of it as I do,” Y/N said as they leaned into Aldo’s touch. His warmth brought them comfort, which in these uncertain times was a godsend.

Once the war was over, Aldo vowed to propose to Y/N, and he kept that promise. It didn’t matter how many enemies they had to face. The Apache and the Hunter of Harrisburg would always stick together until the very end.

Tags: @sharky9boy, @sergeant-donny-donowitz, @redrosewritingsstuff, @jiejie-eonni-onee-sama

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Can We Cuddle? 🙈 | How the Basterds ask you to cuddle | IB Headcanon

Link to my IB masterlist

Requested by this anon ♥️ Rules for requests

Lt. Aldo Raine

Aldo is the type of main who rarely gets time to rest. Being in the middle of the woods in a war while hunting krauts means you two lack privacy or a nice warm bed. But there are days where Aldo gets so exhausted and a flicker of peace while the other basterds are occupied and takes advantage of it.

“Can we cuddle, darlin’?” He’ll simply ask, throwing aside his pack and coming to lay beside you. He pretty much already has his arm wrapped around you and nuzzling his way into your neck, sighing at the warmth it provides. The ground is hard and he’ll wake up with a sore ass and back, but at least he gets time to hold you in his arms.

You’ve already got a grin on your face, leaning into him while securing your arm around to play with his hair, saying, “Of course, love. Though, you already got yourself comfortable.”

“maybe I knew you’d say yes,” he smirks, kissing your jaw and cozying up to you. “We only got a short amount a time ‘fore those fools ruin it. Let’s make the most of it.”

Sgt. Donny Donowitz

Donny probably doesn’t even ask honestly. The man will just plop his happy ass on top of you, causing a groan followed by a laugh to escape your mouth. If y’all are at an inn/motel with the rare occasion of having a bed, Donny doesn’t hesitate to jump on top of you.“What do you want, mister?” His arms fall to your sides, resting his head on your chest while looking up at you with a cheeky smile. You’re own smile forms, knowing what it is he wants.

“Can we cuddle, doll?” The innocent question has your face soften, immediately shifting to make yourself more comfortable as your arms go to cradle him. “Do you even have to ask?” He chuckles at your response, grinning in victory as he shuffles more up your body so he wasn’t fully on top of you but against your side. It’s rare you two get to cuddle, but Donny loves anytime you do. The Basterds used to hollar and tease in the beginning of y’all’s relationship, before stopping when Donny threatened to use his bat on them.

“This is nice. Ain’t it, doll?” He hums in content, feeling you hold him. Usually he’s the bigger spoon and likes to hold you, but on these types of moments he loves just laying on top of you and feeling the gentle thump of your heart against his ear. You smile and lean down to kiss his head, “It’s the thing I look forward to most when I’m with you, Donny.”

Cpl. Wilhelm Wicki

Ever the gentlemen, Wicki would politely ask you to cuddle. He probably would pop the question when he sees you in distress or in dire need of rest. Taking your blankets and pack, Wicki sets up a little spot by the fire after you two have first watch and gesture for you to join him.

“What’s this,” you can’t help but ask, small smiling in the corner of your lips when you see him lay down and open his arms. “Lay with me, Schatzi. You need rest and I wanna hold you tonight if you don’t mind.” Biting your lip, you ease down and allow him to pull you into the position where his chest is to your back, the two of you facing the fire at a safe distance where you feel the heat but not close enough where it’s a hazard. “Don’t mind if I do, Corporal,” you then tease how out of character it is for him. Usually it’s you asking him to cuddle, not the other way around.

“With all the hell we see, Y/n, having a little bit of peace with you is what I strive for,” fingers brush through your hair, Wicki kissing the side of your head as sleep threatens to take over you. “Sleep now, liebling, I’ll be here when you wake.”

Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz

Hugo is not one with words. So as you can imagine he’d likely not directly ask you to cuddle but instead give a motion with his hands or his body language gives away what he wants. You two would be bunked together—thanks to Aldo—when y’all get the chance to be at an inn while doing recon in downtown Paris. Having been…something, for sometime you two know each other’s boundaries with physical touch still being difficult for Hugo. He trusts you and knows he feels something strong for you, but he still has trouble letting you in.

This particular night however, was a hard day for both of you and you both were exhausted to the point you dropped onto the bed beside him before being taken aback by the look he was giving you. “You okay, Hugo?” You ask, sitting up a bit to decipher why he was giving you that look. When he glances down at the bed, shifting a bit closer he looks up at you with nervousness. It clicks for you, “Did you…do you want me to move closer?”

When he nods you slowly draw forward, watching his arms open and letting you fall into them. Tucking your head in his neck, you feel Hugo wrap his arms around you, stiff and unsure. It’s only when you relax against him that Hugo relaxes as well, the both of you falling asleep shortly after, a small smile painting your face.

Private Smithson Utivich

Smitty is nervous around you even after you two have established your relationship. Getting alone time gets him flustered and there are times where the opportunity arises to cuddle with you and it still makes his palms sweaty. You find it adorable, however, and sometimes tease him by saying, “All you have to do is ask, Smitty. You know I’ll say yes.”

It just makes him go red, stuttering out, “Can—can we cuddle a bit? If you don’t mind—I-I,” you cut him off with a kiss to the cheek, curling up to him. His body head could be felt through his clothes, making you nuzzle up to Smiitty as he awkwardly brings his arms around you. “Better, bud?”

“Yeah,” he sighs with a crooked smile, happy with the feeling of you in his arms. Smitty can’t help but love the moments where you two get to relax and just talk about life while cuddling. It makes him feel at home, “So much better.”

[theyalldeserveddbetter]

Stargazing- One Shot

(Aldo Raine x daughter reader)

Summary:

Aldo and you can’t sleep. He takes you outside for a view of your home.

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse and trauma, the war

(the fact that i reached the limit for tagging should be a warning 😂)

A/N: I wanted to try writing for a new fandom after recently becoming obsessed with Inglorious Basterds. If you haven’t seen the movie I highly suggest you go watch it!

Word Count: 880

You couldn’t sleep. The reason was stupid, really. You, daughter of the Aldo ‘The Apache’ Raine, were afraid of the dark. You had gone through thick and thin, fought your own wars, and yet, you were afraid of the dark.

You hated how it was like a cold blanket that choked you blindly. You hated how you were scared of such a small thing. What you absolutely hated the most about the dark was how it left you with your thoughts.

On nights you couldn’t sleep, all of your thoughts were left with you. Forcing you to think. To think back seven years and one day. All the way back to when your father and millions of other men first left to fight in the war.

He left you in the hands of your mother.

Your mother…

A mother’s job is to nurture and care for her child. To teach them right from wrong. To protect them and heal them.

That’s not what your mother did. No, she (for six years and one day) decided to inflict as much pain on a five year old as she could. That’s how old you were. Only five years old.

She beat you, tortured you cussed you out. Anything you could think of, she did. It was a miracle how you stayed alive for six years (and one day).

It was the letters. The letters were what kept you going.

Aldo tried his very best to keep in contact with you during the war. He would write letters to you. Telling you about all the best parts of his day and how much he missed you. On especially bloody days, when nothing good (that a child could read) happened, Aldo would ask about you, about back home, high in the Smoky Mountains, and about your mother. He was completely unaware of the torture that you were enduring from your mother. You were forced to keep it a secret.

I mean, if a father was receiving letters decorated in crayon and stickers he wouldn’t think anything was wrong.

It was in 1941 that the letters stopped coming. Aldo and his basterds couldn’t afford to write letters to home, afraid it would blow their cover.

As months went on, you knew letters wouldn’t come anymore and it crushed your tiny heart. The only thing that kept you going stopped. How would you survive now?

It came as quite a shock to Aldo when he found out about your mother. How could the woman that he married and bore his child do such a treacherous thing? Aldo wasted no time leaving your mother, telling her immediately to pack up her things and leave. Your mother didn’t have another home to go to but that wasn’t your father’s concern.

‘She’ll find a place,’ Aldo had said to you.

-

So now, another two years after the war, you lay awake in your bed. You sighed to yourself, thinking that it was going to be another all-nighter. That was, until you heard tapping at your door. You shot up, heart beating rapidly. Your heartbeat slowed down slightly as you saw the familiar outline of your father in the dark.

“Can’t sleep?” Your father asked quietly, being careful not to startle you. He already knew the answer. Truth was, he couldn’t sleep either.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

“Come with me,” Aldo started to walk down the hallway.

You scrambled out of bed and ran up to him.

“Where are we going?” You asked him, curious.

“Shh, you’ll see.” Your father hushed you.

Aldo lead you to the window of the guest bedroom. It was wide open. You peered outside. On the roof tiles, you spied a few mats.

“Go on, out cha’ go.” Your father ushered you.

“But wh-“

“No questions, you’ll see.”

You grumbled to yourself and started to climb out. You carefully walked to the mats, making sure not to fall off. You sat down, waiting for your father to follow you out. Once he did, he took his place next to you. He looked in front.

You looked at the sight and what a sight it was. In the dark, with a little help of the moonlight, you could just about make out the foggy treeline of the Smoky Mountains; the stars glittering in the clear sky.

Aldo wrapped an arm around you, holding you close to him.

“I like to come out ‘ere when I can’t sleep.” He told you.

“I can see why,” You breathed out, looking at the shining stars. You rested your head against your father.

A loud bang erupted through the trees. Aldo felt you flinch against him.

“Don’t you worry bout’ nothin’. It’s probably some good for nothin’ boys throwin’ firecrackers again.” He assured you.

You laughed at your father’s sudden change in tone.

“Weren’t you a good for nothing boy a long time ago?”

Aldo let out a loud laugh.

“You got me there Y/N,” He chuckled.

You sighed, feeling safe and wanted. You closed your eyes, focusing on your father’s breathing. He started to hum a quiet tune, knowing you were about to fall asleep.

Once he heard your breathing even out, Aldo leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“G’night Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

Taglist

@ssebstann @lozzypoz321 @hera-the-writer @emmasdrowned @stillmanicc @peachyprincessss

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Back in 1929 (Aldo x Reader)

requested by @kwyloz

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182 @marlenemarauders @what-the--curtains @taikawho @spookybearlandtaco Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :) ________________________

***1943*** You and Aldo had been dropped into France dressed as civilians, along with eight other basterds, only a few hours ago. You were just outside of Bordeaux, on the southwestern coast of France. You and Aldo managed to slip away from the others briefly. It had been quite a hectic few days, you had to admit. Then again, life with Aldo was always that way. You were walking along a long, abandoned, quiet stretch of shore, hidden by the night sky and rolling clouds. He was quieter than usual, but he held you hand just as he always did. In fact, the last time either of you were so quiet around each other was back in 1929.  Finally, he remarked, "Just so ya know, this ain't our honeymoon," he chuckled a little adding, "Guess we'll just have to wait."

You smiled and shook your head, "Anywhere with you's a honeymoon, Aldo." "Aw, don't gimme that bullshit," he always thought you deserved better than him. And you always told him there wasn't anyone like that. He shrugged, "You at least deserved to go some place nice. Romantic. Ain't that what these things are about?" "Well, we are in France. Most couples talk about goin' to France for honeymoons. We made it," you giggled, and he smiled. "Yeah, but they don't come here as no members of an elite guerilla team in the middle of a goddamn war." "True," you shrugged with a sigh, looking out at the midnight blue waves, stretching beyond your imagination. "But there's no one else I'd rather be here with." He smiled again, and quietly took your hand. You both stood still at the shore, watching the waves sway. He spoke again after a while, "Feels like it's only been a day, don't it, darlin'?" You chuckled, "Close. It's been two." "Two already?" He laughed, and sighed. He'd spent so much of his life with you, he often lost count of the days. A little over ten years ago, you were just two "young'uns" clawing to survive the Great Depression by bootlegging.

In fact, he met you in a county jail. Both of you were locked up for bootlegging for the wrong people. But the moment he saw you through the bars, he was lost in your eyes and in time. Ever since then, he hadn't bothered to count the days that have gone by. Ever since that moment, he thought once one of you was freed, he'd never see you again. Well...he was wrong. You were both in and out of trouble often, he'd find. First bootlegging, and then fighting off the KKK. In fact, you were there the day he got that scar. And you were the only reason he made it out alive. From then on, you somehow always seemed to be in the same place at the same time when it mattered most...ever since that day in 1929. You may have been nothing but some kids then, but you both knew you'd be so much more some day. Things started looking up once Prohibition and the Great Depression ended. Then came the war. You and Aldo fought through half of Siciliy, side by side. You both volunteered for the war without hesitation... But Aldo never thought he'd see the day he'd "jump out of a fucken air-o-plane," until you did. He had no choice but to follow you down. You'd seen it all and done it all together for most of your lives by then, but you'd never seen Aldo so scared, so panicked as the day you first went to war. Till the day he died, he swore he only made it out of that very first day at war because you did. You and Aldo. You spent a little over a year in Italy, making names and ranks for yourselves. You were assigned to secret missions, unable to tell each other about them. You had one last day in Italy together. And in the middle of a final firefight, Aldo looked at you. He saw the same eyes he saw back in 1929. He didn't know if he'd see them the next morning, or ever again. Not with rumors of the armada happening soon. "Y/N!" He called out as you ran for cover. He cleared a path for you, and followed you. "Y/N!" He had to tackle you in order to save you. He shot at your would-be killer, and then looked at you, relieved seeing that you were safe. "What?" He smiled, "Marry me?" You chuckled as you shoot down a sniper. "What took ya?" So that night, you married quickly, and quietly with only hours to spare before departing on your secret missions in the middle of the night... Except... The very next morning, as Aldo marched to face his new team, he spotted a sergeant standing tall. Then he saw you. He stalled for a moment...but only for a moment. As long as you were there, what did he have to fear? There was a slight smirk on his face, which only you recognized. You knew exactly what he was thinking...and you were thinking the same things: "Sum'bitch..." Twelve hours later you were all dropped way behind enemy lines, deep in Nazi-occupied France. Aldo chuckled a little to himself, and you smiled, asking "What?" He shrugged, "Think 'em boys figured out we're married yet?" You laughed, "They're smart, Aldo. They'll..." You thought about how many times Omar and Donny had already gotten into arguments about baseball, Hirschberg asking which way north was, and how tired Wicki looked of everyone's shit.

"No...probably not. Not any time soon, anyway." "That's a damn shame," he smirked, "You'll be breakin' their hearts till then." "We could just tell them," you rolled your eyes giggling. "They'd be the first to know," he smiled. You both fell silent again. You hadn't been this silent since that very first time you saw each other, locked away across from each other, back in 1929. Aldo glanced east, sighing. You'd all have to march inland in the middle of the night. This moment, by the sea with you, this anomaly in which he wasn't his usual loud-mouthed self, and you his accomplice, was probably the quietest it would be for a long time. He turned back to look at you, and smiled. Maybe, he thought....maybe that was ok. There'd be time enough for quiet, once you got back to Maynardville, Tennessee. You smiled at him beneath the moonlight, and kissed him. You whispered, with bright, reasurring eyes, “Come on,” as you led him back east, to the rest of the basterds. He realized that after that night, the sound of boots, gunfire and planes would never cease. But neither would you. “Yeah,” he nodded, following you with a slight, soft grin. It was one word, but he meant it in more ways than you’d realize. He followed you back to the present. Back to 1943. Far from Maynardville, the Smoky Mountains, and bootleggers. He followed you. For once in his life, he’d miss the quiet. But...that was more than ok with him, as long as he was with you.

[darling-i-read-it]

Brad Pitt Characters Masterlist

All of these were written pre Angelina Jolies allegations against him! I stand with her and her children.

Cliff Booth

Ride Home

Few More Minutes

Understand

Midnight Pools in Hollywood

Sleep

Ricks Sister

Videos

Love You

Milkshake

Scars

Hollywood Party

Car Rides

Aldo Raine

Worried Fates

Fireside Reveals

Cabaret

Stars

Wise

Catch Up

Come Back

David Mills

Asking

Earlier

Scared

Worried Days

Bad Dreams

Tristan Ludlow

Moonlight and Stars

Sunset

Braided Flowers

Tyler Durden

Tyler’s Surprises

Welcome

Welcome Part 2

Bar Fights

Indestructible

Being the Queen Of Fight Club

JD

Rain

Bonnie and Clyde

[inglourious-imagines]

The Story of Their Lives (Lt. Aldo Raine)

Requested by: @tealaquinn

Summary: The story of Lt. Aldo Raine and Sgt. Y/N Y/L/N.

Prompts: 9 - Don't you touch her. & 12 - No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them. & 21 - I wanna see how you lose control. & 24 - He's a badass with a good heart. & 39 - Kiss me. & 93 - You make me feel... you make me feel.

Author's Note: This is damn long so I really hope you like it! Also there are some parts in Italian so I'd like you to know, I've never learnt this language so there might be some mistakes. Feel free to send request or let me know if you wanna be tagged in these ♡

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @radiantcade @meteora-fc @kyra3155 @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @im-in-love-with-queen

.

.

.

Y/N and Aldo never showed some kind of an affection towards each other. They respected, trusted, appreciated the other one but these traits were common among the Basterds.

It seemed so innocent at first, almost like a teasing and none of the Jewish American soldiers expected to become it something more.

•••

They met at the very beginning of the Basterd's missions. Y/N was a french spy, a very famous one so she obviously got their attention since they'd gotten to France.

The Basterds recruited her in a bar and she immediately became one of them. Y/N fit within the group perfectly, like she was always destined to be a Basterd.

•••

After the third successful mission, they decided to stay the night in a local resistance hotel to relax and prepare for another action. Everyone went to their beds as soon as they could but Donny persuaded Y/N and Aldo to gamble a little before the sleep. 

"C'mon, just one game!" Donny pleaded. It didn't take much and the trio was sitting around a table playing their fifth game.

"I thought you're better at poker, Lieutenant." Y/N laughed as she grabbed another money she won.

"Shut up, Sergeant. I just am a bit lenient with ya, that's all." Aldo fought back, trying to cover the fact he's worse with cards than Hugo trying to actually smile for once. 

"Show me what you got, Lieutenant. I wanna see how you lose control." she winked at him and dealt the cards.

•••

Something changed in Aldo this evening. At first, Y/N was just another soldier sticking up for her country trying to end the war. But now he saw her in a totally different light.

He noticed what colour her eyes have, how she always ties her hair in a braid. 

He noticed how her cheeks blushed when he praises her after a good work.

He noticed how she scrunches her nose when she disagrees with someone. 

All those little things were filling his head. Aldo was so full of it. It was during the other mission when he completely understood his feelings.

•••

One moment and his whole world flipped. 

Aldo was so angry with himself that he missed such an important thing.

Like a gun. 

The German soldier was just kneeling in front of Aldo when he reached in his pocket. It all happened so quickly then.

The German pulled out a gun and with one last defiance he pulled the trigger. But it wasn't Aldo who got hit. 

It was the woman behind him.

Aldo was like deprived of his senses. He threw away the piece of bread he was eating and jumped at the German. If Wicki didn't pulled him back, Aldo would probably beat the guy to death.

And that was Donny's speciality.

"Don't you fuckin' touch her! Or look at her!" Aldo shouted hitting his face with his fist one more time.

Y/N was so taken away by his behaviour, not really sure where the anger got from.

"What the hell, Lieutenant?" she frowned, "it's just a goddamn scratch on my arm. The bullet didn't even hit me properly." 

Aldo froze whereas Donny and Hugo looked at each other with knowing smiles. They finally realised what was going on.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he tried to brush it off, gesturing to the Basterds to continue with the scalping. "It's fuckin' bleedin' a lot!"

"It's fine. Nothing too serious, Lieutenant." Y/N replied.

Aldo just shook his head as he took off his scarf and tied it around the wound. "No one would hurt ya again, or I'd kill 'em."

•••

The Basterds got ordered to rest a bit because there was a big mission on its way. They didn't know what it was but they all welcomed a full night sleep.

But Y/N didn't feel like going to bed. Instead, she took her cigarettes and sat at the balcony of the apartment they got settled in.

It was a chilly night but she didn't mind. She actually liked cold more than heat.

"Aldo seems a bit off lately." Donny's voice broke the silence as he positioned himself next to her.

"What you mean?" she asked offering him a cigarette which he gladly accepted. 

"Remember how he beated up the German officer two weeks ago? I've never seen him like that."

"Oh Donny. He's just a badass with a good heart. I assure you, Aldo's just fine."

Donny shrugged but didn't say anything. This wasn't his secret to tell even though the change in Aldo's behaviour towards her was so damn obvious. 

Donowitz glanced at Y/N smiling a bit. He understood why Aldo fell for the female Basterd. 

•••

Bridget von Hammersmark was laying in front of them with a bullet in her leg while Hugo, Archie and Wicki were dead.

Y/N was standing in the corner of the room, lost in her thoughts, mourning for her lost friends. She knew something like that had to happen but she also believed in Basterds and part of her thought that they'll all come back home one day.

Y/N wasn't able to look at the actress anymore. She quickly left the room not looking at anyone while she lighted her cigarette. It'd been becoming too much to handle for her.

"Are you alright?" Aldo frowned as he walked towards her. "You still in?"

She laughed sarcastically at his question sheaking her head. "Yeah, of course, business. I'm in, Lieutenant."

"I didn't mean in like that and ya know it."

"Yeah, sorry. It's just-"

"I know, Sergeant. This whole event got me thinkin'. I gotta tell you something."

Y/N threw away her cigarette as she looked directly at him. She wasn't sure if it was the light or the sentiment, but Aldo's eyes never seemed so beautiful to her like they did in that moment. 

"The truth is," Raine began as he stepped closer, "you make me feel... you make me feel, Sergeant."

•••

When Y/N stepped into the room in a black plain tight dress, the conversation between the Basterds immediately stopped. They'd never seen her in anything but in uniform or the civilian clothes. Donny dropped the glass of whiskey he was drinking, Hugo's knife fell on the ground with a loud crash, Omar and Wicki stayed there with their mouths wide opened, Archie Hicox smirked and Aldo, Aldo was taken away and wasn't able to get out a word.

"Please, gentlemen! This is how you welcome a beautiful woman? She looks magnificent!" Bridget von Hammersmark exclaimed gesturing towards Y/N.

"It's so uncomfortable," Y/N frowned and tried to adjust the dress a little, "and so impractical." 

"I think it's perfect." Aldo breathed out and Bridget smiled in satisfaction.

Y/N truly looked like a completely new person. And Aldo's feelings mixed once again. She was so special to him, like water is special to desert. His life was dry without an excitment. She was the water that refreshed him after a long time of loneliness.

•••

Bridget, Aldo, Y/N, Donny and Omar stepped into the small local cinema, already so full of Nazi officers.

"It makes me sick." Y/N snorted as she looked around on the German uniforms. "I have two knives and a gun and I'm not afraid to use them right now."

Aldo laughed next to her and gallantly put his hand on her hip pulling her closely to him.

"Just relax, darlin'. We'll do that later." Aldo winked at her, not letting her go for a moment.

Bridget suddenly seemed like she'd seen a ghost. An older man approached their little group and Y/N immediately understood with whom they have the honor.

Bridget and Hans Landa shared a short conversation before they turned to them. Hammersmark formally introduced the Basterds and Y/N flinched a little under the German's look. Aldo noticed right away her change of attitude and stroked her hip gently.

"Sei assolutamente incredibile, signorina! Ho notato che molti ufficiali hanno voltato la testa dopo di te." (You look absolutely stunning, miss! I noticed that many officers turned their head after you.) Hans Landa grinned and Y/N thought it was the most disgusting thing ever.

"Grazie mille signore. Sono sicuro che stai esagerando." (Thank you very much, sir. I'm sure you're exaggerating.) Y/N faked a smile and clenched her hand in fist to remain calm.

All of the Basterds with Bridget jerked their heads towards her. Her fluent Italian took them away as well as Landa.

"Quanto amo la lingua italiana! E dalla bocca di una donna così bella, è una musica per le mie orecchie." (How I love the Italian language! And from the mouth of such a beautiful lady, it's a music for my ears.)

"Mi stai adulando, signor Landa. Non hai un brutto aspetto." (You're flattering me, Mr Landa. You don't look so bad yourself.) Y/N felt like vomitting any next second. 

Aldo had enough of Landa's fake attitude, especially how Y/N looked so stressed and angry. He decided he has to step in or she won't hold herself back. Aldo recalled the one sentence he learnt yesterday, just in case he'd need to interrupt a moment in a formal way. This was the time.

"Baciami, adesso." (Kiss me, right now.) he stated and pulled Y/N even closer than before. She didn't manage to prostest or ask a quick question and their lips touched. She returned the kiss immediately and ran her fingers through his hair.

Until someone coughed.

They pulled apart from each other, Aldo smiling widely like a winner and Y/N blushing harder than ever.

"Ci scusi signore. Il mio ragazzo qui è un tipo appassionato. Devi perdonarlo." (Excuse us, sir. My boyfriend here is the passionate kind. You must forgive him.) Y/N stuttered and but looked directly at Landa.

•••

Operation Kino was over and it was now only her, Aldo and Utivich. They lost everybody along the way. They stood together side by side through everything. They'd become something stronger than family, friends, lovers. They faced death together and nothing could break the bond they'd created over the years. It was time to go home.

Y/N stood on the ship that was taking the Basterds, or what was left of them, home. The wind was dancing on her hair whispering secrets in her ears.

"I never thought I'd make it back home." Aldo Raine appeared next to her with a cigarette between his lips.

"None of us thought so, Lieutenant." she nodded, "but the difference is, we were wrong. Not them."

"Smart as always." Aldo grinned as he turned to her. "You should stop calling me Lieutenant. The war's over."

Y/N giggled at his statement and he could swear he'd never heard something so melodic, something so right. 

"It kinda sticked with you, Lieutenant."

Aldo didn't answer, instead he threw away the cigarette and took some deep breaths. He needed whiskey, or anything else that would give him at least a bit of courage.

Aldo Raine fought in war, he saw his friends die, he was broken by everything he saw and still, asking Y/N a simple question seemed harder than surviving the bloodshed.

"Spill it out, Lieutenant." she laughed as she glanced at him. 

"I hate how ya always do that. But here it goes," Aldo replied, "I've never been good at this so I'll just keep it short."

He stopped for a moment and stared at the woman in front of him. As he stepped closer, his heart was already racing like it'd never before.

"Why don't ya come to the States with me? We can buy some little house in the Smoky Mountains and live there for the rest of our fuckin' lives." Aldo confessed in his Raine kind of way, looking at her with so much hope in his eyes. 

"Is this some kind of your proposal?" Y/N chuckled as she intertwined her fingers with his.

"Maybe."

"I thought you'd never ask! Of course I'll come with you! You're everything I have, Aldo." 

[indigosandviolets]

Hey could you do headcanons on what the basterds were like when their S/O was going through labor? Love your writing aaa!

here you go! fair thing i should mention, these are from the perspective of a person who has never given birth(hi, hello, that’s me!) , but have heard many a gory tale.

Aldo Raine

you and Aldo have three children. you are also an incredibly strong woman.

Aldo, being the Southern gentleman that he is, stayed with you the entire time and held your hand

you broke his hand, every single time

after the first time he kinda stopped caring about it

and when people would ask about it he would say, “My wife did that.”

then you would give him the look and he’d say, “Not in an abusive way, she’s in labor.” and you’d want to fucking die every time more than you currently did

but he’s already on top of shit when you’ve finished and i’m talking ON TOP OF SHIT

he’s got an order for your favorite food ready and on the way and he may or may not have snuck in a cooler that has your favorite drinks in it, as well as the first alcoholic beverages you’ve had in nine months

trust me, he’s on top of shit

Donny Donowitz

Donny isn’t...terrible, he just wasn’t...great

turns out, an ex-blood-thirsty-nazi-killer hates seeing people in pain when the people is you whose in pain

and it’s not like he can do anything about it and that pisses him off, so in the end he’s more frustrated than you are and that’s some fucking news to you

that pisses you off ‘cause he’s not allowed to be the one freaking out but whatever

he’s got his hand on your shoulder the whole time and you’re holding onto his wrist

Donny seriously hates you being in pain and he almost wants to fight the doctors for not giving you enough pain killer but you held him tight so he couldn’t

he’s better with you when Anja is born because when Art was born he was an absolute wreck

though he does climb into the hospital bed after and holds you and Art, and then when Anja is born you somehow fit art in there too

Hugo Stiglitz

so he was freaking out way more than he let on during the birth of your daughter Margret

like usual he didn’t say much, as he is a man of few words around people he doesn’t know, but when he heard Margret cry he tilted his head back and said “thank the fucking lord”

seriously, he’s a man of steel about his emotions until he gets to hold her

and you see a single tear slide down his cheek

“Hugo?”

“Shut up.”

“The hell did you just say?”

“Sorry.”

he was a lot calmer for Leon and Benjamin because that was a C-Section

he was waiting with water and some soup when you woke up (home made soup, might i add)

Wilhelm Wicki

so you and Wicki were totally prepped for when Stefan was born

until Stefan was born a week late

nothing to worry about, but you were just so sick of being pregnant that eventually you two just went to the hospital and said “Fucking really?”

Wicki was calm the entire time and it helped you out a lot

he’s calmer than the fucking doctors and that’s the worst part

especially when Stefan doesn’t cry when he’s born and he has to tell the doctors that he can literally see his son breathing and that there’s nothing to worry about

he cuts Stefan’s cord and when he’s handed over, that’s when he starts crying and Wicki has to look at the doctors with the “i fucking told you so” look

“How the hell do you know so much, Wil?”

“I think I read more than our doctors do.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Smithson Utivich

everything Smithson Utivich has learned from being an uncle to his sister’s kids and her telling him what it was like went out the fucking window when you went into labor

yeah, his sister was accurate on some shit, but not with him calming down while his wife is having fucking twins

it’s fine, though, but not really, but he stopped hyperventilating and now just has to worry about you hyperventilating but you’re both fine

once they’ve hooked you up on an epidural it’s a little bit better but you’re still in a lot of pain

he’s there the entire time. this man does not move from beside you and he has one arm around your shoulders and one hand in yours and he’s constantly saying reassuring words

the only time that changes is when he’s holding your first son Dov while Eli is busy being born but he’s still telling you as many reassuring things he can

once Eli was born you practically passed out but when you woke up you saw Smitty in the chair next to you holding both of your children, passed out

Gerold Hirschberg

i actually wrote this for the fight/make-up headcanons i wrote, so you can check those out here! (you’re gonna have to scroll down to Hirschberg, but it’s there, I promise!)

Omar Ulmer

Omar’s on top of fucking everything when your daughter Elizabeth is born

thing is, he didn’t need to be because they accidentally gave you the wrong epidural and you end up getting way more killer than you were supposed to

you were so drugged out that when anything happened you would laugh

so he’s there trying to get you to calm down, meanwhile you seeing him do to just makes you laugh even harder

everyone’s freaking out that you’re gonna laugh this baby out, which you find absolutely hilarious

so he decides ‘fuck it’ and just starts talking about stupid stuff to make you laugh

an expected eight hour ordeal turns into a four hour one

you did have to stay in the hospital until the drugs wore out of your system, but Omar did still tell you dumb stories that made you laugh a fun smile while you two held your newly born daughter