#stiglitz x reader

[averagewriter-inthedark]

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

Takes place during the events of Inglorious Basterds

Inglorious Basterds Masterlist

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

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

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

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

————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A man like me has his ways.”

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

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

“What kind of job?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, boys.”

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

“Your new mercenary,” the general plainly states.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My job,” she shrugs in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever it was, Wicki seemed to catch on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[admrlthundrbolt]

Some Nights (Hugo Stiglitz x Chubby Reader)

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Being the medic for the Inglorious Bastards was one thing, but being the only woman of the group on top of that. It could be quite the challenge. Adding Hugo Stiglitz to the mix, it seemed you would never get a moment of peace.

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

Hi guys, I'm back at it again. Recently rewatched this movie and fell in love with Hugo again. I just love a deadly character with a heart. Hope you guys enjoy.

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Your heart raced as you calmly walked down the hall. Anyone who claims you get used to espionage work was a liar. No amount of training could ever make you ok with being in a room full of nazis. Still, everyone you passed got a sweet smile and nod as you went. You were a professional after all. Being a part of the Inglorious Bastards was proof of that.

Opening the final door and stepping into your destination, you steeled yourself. There at the back holding cell was Hugo Stiglitz, the Gestapo killer himself. Your mission was to get him in a better position to be rescued. And it would take an act of God to stop you.

Going over to the only guard on duty, you placed your hand on his newspaper. A pleasent look fell onto your face. “If you would assist me with the prisoner. I would greatly appreciate it.” You were pulling out all the bells and whistles, even putting a more helpless tone in your voice. Men always did love helping out a damsel in distress.

The salacious grin that settle in his lips was down right slimy. “And why would you need to see the prisoner, Fraulein?”

Sweetening your expression a bit more, you took the paper from his hands. “I need to prepare him for transportation. They are impatient for him in Berlin.”

It seemed that would do the trick. He quickly scrambled from his seat and fumbled with the keys. “I thought they weren't transporting him for another week.” His hands shook some as he inserted the correct key.

“Like I said, they are growing tired of waiting to make an example of him.” He moved aside and let you pass him into the cell.

Hugo had paid your conversation with the guard little attention. Until you entered the cell, he didn't even give you a glance. But once you were in front of him, he couldn't stop staring. Your full figure filled his glaze in a heavenly way. A softness he had never dreamed of brimmed from your uniform.

It was a damn shame that you worked with the Nazi scum. At least that’s what he thought, until you approached him.

“You ready to blow this joint.” Then you turned to the soldier and placed a handgun between his eyes. There was a flash of something in your eyes that he found intoxicating.

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

The next few hours were a flurry of bullets and introductions. Though he found that his eyes always managed to find their way back to you. It was like you had this pull to you that he couldn't resist. He was bewitched.

An elbow bumped into him. Looking over he noticed Donowitz shaking his head. “I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you. Lieutenant sees her like a sister, so that’s not a good idea.”

He thought about it for a moment. But as his eyes met yours across the room. He decided that it was worth the risk.

Aldo noticed you eyeing the new recruit and linger for longer than he thought was appropriate. Scoffing, he guided you to the hallway. “I can’t help but notice how much attention you're already giving Stiglitz. I don’t think it’s a good idea to intermingle.”

You gave him a stern look. “When is it ever a ‘good' idea for me to mingle.” Pointing a finger into his chest you spoke a bit louder. “Really, when will someone be good enough to be with me. We are an elite band of killer and yet you still treat me like the little girl that you first met.” You went over to the near by staircase and plopped down on the bottom step.

Ludo shook his head and sat next to you. “I just want what’s best for ya.”

Patting his knee you sighed. “I know, but we're in a war. You never know when this day may be our last. So let me live before I can’t.”

He pulled you into a strong side hug and relented. “OK, but if anything happens…”

You elbowed his side. “Darling, as if anyone could do something to me and get away with it.”

Bringing you in closer he laughed. “That's my girl.”

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

A few weeks later Ludo decided it was time to make good on your conversation. So as he gave out assignments, he called your and Hugo's names for an espionage assassination. You glanced at each other in slight shock and step forward for your debriefing. It was all standard fare for the bastards. Follow a higher ranking officer's schedule, find a time to discreetly dispose of him.

Nodding at the brief, but clear explanation, you went to gather your things. Only to stop when Ludo placed a hand on your shoulder.

Leaning to your ear, he quietly says. “Make the most of this (Y/N).”

Looking up at him, a smirk slid onto your face. “I plan on it.”

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

Some days later, you were both posted at a small hotel. It was a common affair stop, you and your mistress would meet up for an hour, then part ways. It wasn’t hard finding the man’s mistress, he wasn’t very secretive about the situation in the hotel. So when she came down the usual ten minutes before him, we made our move.

The man was laying on the bed smoking a cigarette. Walking in with a few towels, you acted flustered at his state of undress. You looked down to the floor quickly. “I’m so sorry sir. I believed the room to be unoccupied.”

He seemed irritated yet curious. “As you can see, it is still in use. But perhaps it could be used a bit more.” He stood up and let the thin sheet fall from his bare body.

You went to continue the innocent act, only for the door to burst open. Hugo was supposed to wait for a distress signal, if you couldn't take him down quietly that is. But it seemed like that option went out the window.

He flew at the man, tackling him to the bed. Wrapping his hands around his neck, putting all of his weight on the fighting man.

As you took post at the door, hoping that no one heard the scuffle. You couldn't help but admire the raw strength that he was using. It filled your head with impure thoughts. Though they were quickly snuffed out as the man pulled a gun from seemingly nowhere.

Rushing forward, you started wrestling the weapon from his hands. Only for it to go off in the process. The bang surprised you both, but it gave you the upper hand. Slamming a pillow over his face, you jammed the muzzle into it and pulled the trigger.

Heavy breathing filled the room. Your eyes met for only a moment, before like a magnet you were drawn together. Lips crashing into one another, you leaned over the body and embraced.

Your not sure how much it would have escalated, if not for your hand brushing across something warm and wet. Pulling back, you smiled as he chased after your lips, but frowned at the blood on your hand. Drawing his arm towards you, there was a sizeable red stain near his shoulder. There was a rip and from a quick exam it seemed to be a graze.

“We need to get out of here and take care of this.” You pulled him towards the door. Grabbing the officer’s coat along the way, to cover his injury.

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

The next morning you woke up a bit sore, but warm. The body pressed against yours made sure of that. Smiling at Hugo in the early light of the sunrise, you sighed. Shifting deeper into his embrace, he began to stir.

He looked down at you and gave you a satisfied smile. “Good morning.” Then he squeezed you even closer.

Leaning up you pressed a long kiss to his lips. “That it is.”

As you gazed at each other in the golden light of the morning, you felt a inner warmth that was wonderful.

You just hoped that this feeling would carry you through to the tavern mission tonight. Knowing your boys it would be an interesting time.

[mlmxreader]

An Abandoned Hotel | Hugo Stiglitz x gn!reader

@inlovewithhugostiglitz asked: okay so i had an idea for a fic,, so it's hugo stiglitz x gn! reader with the prompt "you can sleep in my bed, it's fine" and they end up cuddling and the basterds find them, if u do this tysm 😭

summary: you and Hugo are impossible to keep apart.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

An abandoned hotel in the middle of absolutely nowhere, only a handful of rooms were left untouched by the recent Nazi bombings, destroying countless homes and businesses, forcing people to flee or risk their lives being taken from them in a cruel and inhumane manner; the alleyways smelled of death and sadness.

No birds sang in the trees nearby, no snakes slithered in the grass, even spiders and woodlice seemed non-existent as you and the Basterds made your way through the hotel, hearts pounding and breath shaky; in the jaws of death just waiting for the mouth to snap shut and consume you all, hoping that at the very least, if you were to be swallowed by death itself, then maybe at least you could attempt to make it worth something, anything. Kill a few Nazis, at least. 

The world needed less Nazis. Bastard cunts deserved to die. 

But you made it in the end, and Aldo decided to tell everyone where they should sleep for the night; you couldn’t say you were surprised when he told you that you were bunking up with Hugo. The two of you had been dating for months, never went anywhere without the other - even if it was something small, like stopping to tie a shoelace, you were not able to be separated. Never.

You and Hugo couldn’t be separated even if Aldo had tried to, so it was only natural that he had assigned you to the same room; it wasn’t that bad, although it was impossibly cold, and you found yourself shivering as you put down your bag by the door, right next to his. Hugo didn’t seem to mind the cold, simply pulling back the scratchy and worn blanket, beating off the bits of debris and ash that had stuck to it, not even thinking as he left it there, turning to you with a slight frown. 

“Nicht perfekt, aber… nich schlecht,” he sounded like he was going to start apologising for it. 

You shook your head, licking your lips as you sighed and took a look at the blanket for a moment. “It’s fine - as long as it’s not a lumpy rock.”

Hugo dared to crack a small smile as he nodded curtly. “You can sleep in my bed, it’s fine.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that left you, waiting for him to get beneath the blanket before you copied; the bed was too small for you to actually lie side by side, the way that you preferred, and as you were the last to get into it, you took the initiative. Moving around until you could lie on top of him, a little uncomfortable but not as bad as you had been before; it was, at least, bearable. You supposed that you could sleep like that.

“Is this comfortable enough for you?”

Hugo nodded, wrapping his arms around you lazily as he let out a quiet yawn; if he was honest, he would have slept anywhere and on anything so long as he had you there with him. It helped him much more than he could say, to have you near and to feel you there with him, it helped him a lot more than he was willing to admit; being able to calm down when he had nightmares, just by listening to your breath and feeling it against his skin. Being able to know that you were right there with him at all times, it helped.

He didn’t tell you, though, didn’t feel the need to as he knew somehow that you knew anyway, and he didn’t need to explain it much more than that; he was, however, still quite happy to snuggle into you and to feel you against him. A sense of somewhat normalcy washing over him as he sighed and allowed himself to relax a little bit; maybe you weren’t in a normal, domestic situation, but Hugo was comforted by the thought that, once the war was over, you would be doing this every night - in an actual, real, bed. 

You snuggled into him a little further, yawning against him as you closed your eyes and started to drift off, starting to actually doze off; depending entirely on who was on top, or who was nearest the exist, you and Hugo almost took turns to fall asleep first, as you didn’t want the other to feel unsafe or to feel as if they needed to stay up. Tonight, evidently, was your turn to drift off last, as you were on top this time, and you needed to stay awake for just a few moments longer. But once you were certain that Hugo was asleep, you finally let yourself go, going limp against him as you snuggled in as much as you could, holding onto him tightly. 

However, while you and Hugo were asleep, sound and away with the sweet clouds and the soft embrace of one another, the Basterds had taken a look around to see if they could find anything of worth - food, especially, was on their minds as they snooped and searched. It was Wicki and Donny and Aldo who were the ones to discover you and Hugo, looking amongst themselves for a moment; they silently debated who would be the one to say anything.

“Not me,” Donny shook his head. “I ain’t fuckin’ wakin’ up Hugo and (y/n).”

“I don’t want to either,” Wicki took a step towards the door. “(y/n) nearly killed me last time I woke Hugo up.”

Aldo put his hands on his lips as he sighed. “Damn inseparable, them two… but I don’t wanna wake ‘em neither.”

“I mean, they’re sound asleep,” Donny pointed out. “Maybe it’s best we leave ‘em.”

Wicki nodded in agreement. “It is best we leave them… we should go to the next room.”

Aldo took a look at you and Hugo, nodding in approval; he was always happy for you and Hugo, could never deny it, so he turned on his heel and moved towards the door. “Ar’ight, we’ll wake ‘em in the mornin’.”

[dvesinthewind]

bunch of hugo stiglitz works got removed/deleted on ao3. hella sad rn

[saltysideblog]

Salty imagines...

Sick Basterds

Inglourious Basterds x Reader

Request: Yes! By anon 🤍

What would the Basterds be like with a cold?

During the war, there's no time for whining. Expect lots of spent tissues being hastily stuffed into coat pockets in between rounds of fire and more than one Basterd nearly choking to death trying to keep a cough quiet...

Aldo:

Even before the war, Aldo was a resilient little bugger. Has hundreds of absolutely vile tasting home remedies he swears by and will refuse your help.

"S'jus' a cold, sunshine, ah can take care of it..."

His voice is rougher than usual and his nose is lookin' a little red, but he promises to rest if you insist. When he lays his head in your lap and feels your fingers threading through his hair as you coo about how strong he is, he feels like a million bucks. His very favourite home remedy. No fish oil required.

Donowitz:

When Donny gets sick, he reverts back to his ten year old self; a spoiled mama's boy. Will insist on wearing his pajamas all day, pouting,

"I'm sick..." is his only reply when you ask him to put on some real clothes. Will come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist when you cook,

"Come back to beeeed..."

"Don, I'm busy."

"I want ice cream."

"I'm making pasta."

"But I'm sick..."

Kiss his forehead and serve him some matzo ball soup just like his ma did. It'll buy you a few moments of peace... until...

"Babe?? Come cuddle with me..."

And if you don't answer immediately,

"I'm sick..."

Wicki:

The only way you know Wicki's been sick is when you get sick after kissing him. When you confront him about it, he just shrugs,

"I didn't want you to worry."

Loves when his partner dotes on him. He thinks it's very sweet that you care, even if he can handle it. Will probably end up taking care of you instead, bringing you hot cups of tea and honey and running you a bath (to be shared, of course.) The bathroom windows are all fogged up as you both sink into the warm water,

"Feels like a lot of steam."

He'll kiss your shoulders and chuckle,

"Yes, but I can breathe again."

Stiglitz:

No one has ever seen Hugo get sick. But as his partner you know the truth; he just secludes himself in the guest room until the illness passes, like a wounded animal crawling into a hole. Will not let you near him,

"You will get sick."

And that's final.

He becomes a spectral figure, a vampire stealing food from your kitchen and retreating back to the shadows. Only emerges once he's his usual chipper self. He appreciates all the little notes you slip under the door more than you know; keeps them all in a shoebox in the closet.

Utivich:

Tries to soldier on, will wrap himself up in a big blanket, walking around like one of the caped heroes he writes about. You'll find him half asleep at his typewriter, barely holding onto his cup of now cold coffee. He will never ask you to take care of him, but he makes it difficult not to. You get him over to the couch and tuck him in, he lets you know just how much he appreciates what you do for him, sleepily mumbling,

"I love you so much..."

Before dozing off.

In a few hours, you'll have to do it all again, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

Omar:

Very difficult to wake up in the morning... or the afternoon... or any time he dozes off. Omar's a sleeper and whether or not you dote on him makes no difference to him... because he'll be asleep. It does put a smile on his face when he wakes up in the middle of the afternoon and there's a box of his favourite snacks with a glass of water on the coffee table for him.

Feel better!

He runs his fingers over your handwritten note.

He likes knowing you think of him, even if he's not the most interesting conversationalist at the moment.

Hirschberg:

Does not cover his mouth when he sneezes so you will get sick at the same time he does. Gets a little upset about it, because who's gonna take care of you now?

"I can't, I'm sick too!"

"Sweetie, we're adults, we'll take care of each other."

Pouts and whines about it but it makes his heart flutter when you say things like that. Each other... he's not a romantic by any means, but the thought of there always being "each other" could make him swoon. Still won't cover his mouth.

"It's nasty! I don't want that all over my hands!"

Doesn't seem to understand that he can wash his hands but you can't wash the air.

Sakowitz:

Much like Wicki, Sakowitz doesn't want to bother his partner with a silly little cold. The only time he might ask for anything is when you're walking past him and he grasps both your hands, looking deep into your eyes with a sadness only known to orphaned pups... it makes you a bit worried,

"What is it, honey?"

He holds that serious look on his face as he very delicately and politely asks if you could make him a cup of hot chocolate,

"If it isn't too much trouble."

He's more than happy to dote on you when you're under the weather though,

★ Bonus ★

Hicox:

"Stiff upper lip, luv, won't let a little cold bring me down."

*immediately gets upset because he can't taste his tea with a stuffy nose*

[arianadevareux]

Imagine...

Wicki and Stiglitz helping you learn German.

“I want to understand some of what our enemies are saying, here, men. Can you help me?”

Wicki and Stiglitz shared a questioning glance before it was WIcki that responded.

“We’ll help you. We could give you lessons on our down time.”

[struggling-bee]

Fine - Hugo Stiglitz x Reader

@redrosewritingsstuff tagging you like you asked >:)

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

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

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

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

“Give ‘em a damn minute!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hammersmark?”

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

You heard a groan from across the room.

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

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

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

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

Hugo was on the ground, eyes closed, bleeding.

Breathing? Not breathing?

Breathing. Barely.

“My god, no. Hugo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stared at you unblinkingly. You pulled away.

“Sir.”

He sighed.

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

You kept walking, trying not to run.

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

He’d laugh about that later to himself.

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

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

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

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

“Hello.”

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

“Drugged.”

You rolled your eyes and looked behind you.

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

“Can you sharpen my knife later, Hugo?”

He looked up at you, his face slightly relaxed.

“Sure.”

You smiled and muttered thanks, but kept watching him.

He glanced up at you, briefly.

“I’m going to be fine.”

You smiled a little, but…

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

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

You actually smiled this time.

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

Hugo nodded. “Yeah.”

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

He’d be fine.

[cozywriting]

Hugo Stiglitz Imagines

Pairing: Hugo Stiglitz x reader

Warnings: Graphic death mention, blood cw

Requested by: Anonymous

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is he?” said Hugo gruffly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hand pulled your wrist away from his face.

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

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

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

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

—— —— ——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—— —— ——

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aldo shut the door behind them.

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

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

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

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

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

Stab.

Stab.

Stab.

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

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

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

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

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

[rurivu]

I've been thinking and just imagine. Tne Bastards in "Cell block tango"!!!It's just incredibly suitable for them!!

"And now six glourius american Nazi murderers in Cell block tango!"

I promise...💃💃💃

[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.

[admrlthundrbolt]

Masterlist

Stranger Things

Straight Through The Heart (Eddie Munson x Chubby Reader)

Jojo's Bizzare Adventure

The Most Beautiful Girl In The World (Okuyasu x Chubby Reader)

One Way Or Another (Selkie N'Doul x Chubby Reader

Voices In My Head (Secco x Chubby Reader)

How Did You Love (Polnareff x Chubby Reader)

Heal The Pain (Dragon Wamuu x Chubby Reader)

Black Magic Woman (Werewolf Santana x Chubby Reader)

Evil Walks (Poltergeist Esidisi x Chubby Reader)

Just What I Needed (Gorgon Kars x Chubby Reader)

Resident Alien

Warm Heart Pastry (Harry x Chubby Reader)

One-Punch Man

Love is a Battlefield (Garou x Chubby Reader)

Holding Out For A Hero (Mumen Rider x Chubby Reader)

Elevate (King x Chubby Reader)

Bullet Train

Apple Blossom (Lemon x Chubby Reader x Tangerine)

Stayin' Alive (Ladybug x Chubby Reader

Resident Evil

Your Love Could Start a War (Lady Dimitrescu x Cubby Reader)

Encanto

Dance Macabre (Bruno x Chubby Reader)

Harley Quinn

Have Faith In Me (Bane x Chubby Reader)

Overwatch

You Dropped A Bomb On Me (Junkrat x Chubby Reader)

The Road to El Dorado

I Put A Spell On You (Tzekel-Kan x Chubby Reader)

Camp Camp

Perfect World (David x Cubby Reader)

Spider-Man

Ashes (Norman Osborn x Chubby Reader)

Emperor's New Clothes (Doc Ock x Chubby Reader)

Firefly

Wait A Minute My Girl (Jayne x Chubby Reader)

Scream

You Spin Me Round (Billy x Chubby Reader x Stu)

Naruto

Sweet Tooth (Iruka x Chubby Reader)

Batman

Leather and Lace (Killer Croc x Chubby Reader)

Friday the 13th

Die To Live (Jason Vorhees x Chubby Reader)

Hunter X Hunter

Do It All The Time (Hisoka x Chubby Reader x Illumi)

Drag Me Down(Minotaur Uvogin x Chubby Reader)

Guardians of the Galaxy

Edge Of Midnight (Nebula x Chubby Reader)

What We Do in the Shadows

Under The Graveyard (Petyr x Chubby Reader)

Alone Together (Nandor the Relentless x Chubby Reader)

Inglorious Bastards

Some Nights (Hugo Stiglitz x Chubby Reader)

Halloween

Popular Monster (Demon Michael Myers x Chubby Reader)

Pokemon

Electric Love (Guzma x Chubby Reader)

Arcane

Reckless Paradise (Silco x Chubby Reader)

Terminator

One Of Those Days (Sarah Conner x Chubby Reader)

Mad Max

Radioactive (Furiosa x Chubby Reader)

Mario Bros

Love From The Other Side (Bowser x Chubby Reader)

Jeepers Creepers

Centuries (Jeepers Creepers x Chubby Reader)

Halloweentown

Tongue Tied (Luke x Chubby Reader)

Venom

Run Run Run (Eddie x Chubby Reader x Venom)

Stardew Valley

Therapy (Harvey x Chubby Reader)

[mlmxreader]

Time Cut Short | Hugo Stiglitz x gn!reader

@inlovewithhugostiglitz asked: omg first off i love ur hugo fics sm and i just reblogged a load of them, so i was wondering (if u have time) could u write a fic thats hugo x gn!reader and he's being soft w the reader around the basterds (a very rare occurrence) like he's hugging them and like giving them like kisses on the forehead and stuff like that😭 if u do write a fic like this tysm istg

summary: Hugo has a soft spot for one person, and one person only.

tws: swearing, mentions of war/death/etc

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Never straying far from your side, the Basterds did not need to be told that you and Hugo were a couple; the way that he laid his head on your lap when he slept, the way you always covered his body with yours when travelling beneath collapsing bridges as tanks went over, the way that he would scrape some of his rations onto whatever you were using just to make sure that you were fed, how you would pour some of your water into his bottle.

You were indeed a lot closer than anyone else.

But closeness afforded you both a wealth that, when fighting murderous fascists, was not often accessible; closeness afforded you both a comfort, and a fear, that could not be truly appreciated outside of the military.

If the fascists were to catch you, the things that they would do would be worse than death; Hugo knew that all too well, he wasn't stupid, and he feared it every fucking day. He had feared it every day since you had first met him in nineteen twenty three, in Göttingen.

An RAF pilot having just earned your wings, you had charmed Hugo all those years ago, even moving in with him for a little while; but when the bugle sounded, and the drums of war we're beginning to pound, you were dragged away from him.

It was only when he had joined the Basterds that he had found you again; a Nazi had shot your hawker hurricane down, and it had been the Basterds who had found you, who had taken you under their wing. Hugo hadn't let you out of his sight since, and promised to never let you leave his side again; it seemed that you had a similar thought process, too.

At least, you would always have your brief moment in Göttingen.

It was daytime, the Basterds had stopped in an abandoned village in order to scavenge whatever they could; it felt like it had been weeks since you had last eaten anything, and with ammo running low and the temperatures getting colder and colder, you could not be blamed for taking what you could from those who had left it behind.

You would starve, if you didn't.

You would fall under the fire, if you didn't.

You would freeze in foxholes, if you didn't.

You needed to take things, needed to grab what you could and run for the hills. But as always, Hugo was right there with you, never leaving your side.

Every time he passed you something, a kiss on the forehead followed. Every time you paused to talk to one of the men, he would wrap his arms around you tightly, and press his forehead to the back of your shoulder. Every time you went anywhere, his hand was holding yours.

Scared to let you drift away, not wanting you to be lost amongst the chaos of war once again; he had so little precious time with you as it was, he didn't need it to be cut even shorter.

Hugo was not a soft man, not normally; he was cold and quiet, wearing a permanent scowl and death glare, he was abrasive and coarse... but he melted when he was near you. He was always warm, somewhat talkative, rarely scowled and glared, he was soft and gentle - but everyone knew that that behaviour was only ever for you; he was only ever like that because of you, he was never the same with anyone else.

Still, when it was time to take account of what had been taken, you and Hugo managed to find some time to sit together while everyone else was talking; you didn't mind that they could see as you sat between his legs, your back pressed to his chest as you laughed softly when he started to pepper your neck with soft kisses.

"Bist du gut?"

"Ja," you nodded. "Nicht kaputt... du?"

"Bin gut," he agreed softly, letting his hands slowly dip under your shirt. The feeling of your skin on his own was enough to make him grumble as he relaxed. "Ich liebe dich."

"Ich liebe dich auch," you mused with a smile, leaning back into him as you dropped a hand to his knee and gently tapped it. "I could fall asleep right here, won't lie."

Hugo pulled you in a little bit closer, letting you sink down enough so that you could rest the back of your head against his shoulder, letting him lay his arm around you as he kissed your forehead so softly. "You can sleep, Glücksbringer, I'll be here."

"Y'sure?"

"Ja, natürlich - ist kein Problem," he shook his head, adjusting himself so that you would be a little bit more comfortable against him.

You nodded, turning onto your side as you always did, pressing your face against his neck; your breathing was gentle against him, your hand coming to rest on his chest. Dipping between buttons that he soon unfastened, so that you could feel him against your fingertips. Bringing your legs up a little as he kept his arm firmly and steadily around you; his infamous glare and scowl on his face when the others looked over.

They would be more than wise to not even attempt to disturb you. Very, very wise. As although Hugo did love the Basterds, although he did look upon them as his family, he would never hesitate to bark and growl if they got too close to you; if they tried to take you away from him. Never again, Hugo vowed it to himself, he would never allow you to be taken away from him again.

if you enjoyed this fic, REBLOG IT; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM level of support. do not interact if you won't reblog.

[fandoms-are-my-friends-1321]

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

This was requested by @jokersqueenofchaos, and while this starts off super angsty it will end on a happy note I promise. This was inspired partially by the song Empty Chairs at Empty Tables from Les Miserable, so feel free to listen along while you read this if you want but it’s not required. Either way I hope everyone enjoys it! Gif and characters are not mine.

Summary: Omar helps comfort the reader after they have a nightmare, which leads to some teasing from the other basterds

Warnings: mentions of death and blood during the nightmare sequence (this will be in italics, and you can skip this part if need be and the story will make sense still), suggestive remarks, if I miss something let me know

The landscape was nothing but grey ash as Y/N trudged through what was left of the town they were staying in. An unexpected attack had been launched by the Nazis, but Y/N was in the town over gathering supplies for them and the other Basterds.

Y/N shoved the oak door of the makeshift hideout, and it fell off the hinges with a loud thud, sending more ash into the air. Y/N sputtered as they waved their hand to clear the air. The roof of the hideout had caved in from the blasts, and the morning sun created a hazy glow in the room.

The table that Y/N and the other Basterds had sat at the night before was the only thing left unbroken in the room. The rest of it was in shambles. Y/N ran around frantically trying to find their comrades.

“Guys, is anyone here?! Please answer me!” No reply came, and Y/N ran further into the medium sized building. When they reached the back room where all of the Basterds slept, including Y/N, they almost passed out at the sight.

Every single one of her friends lie dead in front of them. Aldo had been hung from the ceiling, Hugo had his throat slashed in the same fashion he had done to many Nazis before, Donny had the splinters from his bat shoved into his eyes. All of them were gone. Y/N let the contents of their stomach spill onto the floor.

The one that Y/N was most worried about was Omar. He was sweet and yet just as tough as any of the other Basterds. If he was alive the two of them could get revenge against the people who did this. As the first set of tears fell from Y/N’s eyes, they gently climbed past the corpses of their fallen friends. Then they found the one they didn’t want to see.

Omar was sprawled out on the floor, his eyes still open. Blood dripped from the wound at the top of his forehead, where the scalp was no longer in place. Y/N let out a piercing scream as they fell to the floor clutching Omar to their chest.

Omar could hear the screams through the thin walls, and the other Basterds began to stir in their sleep too. “It’s Y/N. Something is wrong,” Omar said as he sprang up from his sleeping bag. The others started to move, but Omar told them to wait.

Omar sprinted into the other room where Y/N was still screaming in their sleep. Omar pulled back the blankets and shook Y/N’s shoulders gently. “Y/N! Please wake up!”

The shouting brought Y/N from their nightmare, but they moved away from Omar to the opposite side of the bed. The tears still fell from their face, and Omar’s heart shattered at the sight. “It should have been me,” Y/N sobbed at the top of their lungs. “You all deserved to live! If I had been there I could have saved you and everyone else!”

Omar wasn’t sure how to approach Y/N, but he went with his gut and placed both hands on their cheeks. “Y/N, look at me. I’m safe, and the other’s are safe too. I’m not going to make you talk about the nightmare, but I will do whatever it takes to make you feel better.”

Y/N lunged forward and wrapped their arms around Omar’s neck, a few more sobs causing their body to shake. Omar placed his arms around Y/N’s waist and pulled them as close as he possible could to his warm body. Omar’s scent started to calm Y/N in an instant. They noted that he smelled like vanilla and gunpowder. Y/N snuggled closer to Omar, and once Omar realized what was happening, he couldn’t help but blush.

“Thank you, Omar. I’m sorry for waking you up,” Y/N mumbled into Omar’s neck.

Omar gently shook his head as his right hand reassuringly squeezed Y/N’s side. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You deserve some comfort.”

The new nickname made Y/N giggle, and they placed a quick but sweet peck on Omar’s cheek. The room felt like a sauna after that to Omar as Y/N drifted off to sleep in Omar’s arms, leaving him a blushing but happy mess. The other Basterds finally started to creep into the room, and they all shared glances once they saw Omar and Y/N.

“Well, looks like you have the magic touch, Omar,” Aldo grinned as he leaned against the door frame.

“Ain’t they cute,” Donny commented. “Imagine the cute kids they’ll have!”

Hugo, who had been very protective of Y/N from the start, sent a somewhat threatening glare towards Omar. “I may be your comrade, but you treat them wrong and I’ll kill you myself.”

Omar swallowed as he nodded his head to show he understood. “I would never hurt Y/N, and I promise to keep her safe.”

Hugo could tell Omar was telling the truth, so he too nodded his head before leaving. The others went to leave as well, but Donny went back just as the other’s were out of ear shot. “Hey, you two had better not make to much noise late at night. I enjoy my beauty sleep ya know.” Donny sent a wink at Omar, who turned the color of an apple as he shifted slightly. Donny laughed as he walked away, leaving Y/N and Omar alone again.

Omar leaned down and pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, and their hand clenched slightly on Omar’s shirt. Omar chuckled at them, and he began fo rub small circles on their back. “Sleep well, lovely. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” Soon Omar too drifted off to sleep, and both of the Nazi hunters stayed cuddled next to each other until the morning sun could be seen.

[softhornymess]

Hugo drabble

A/N: i don't really know what this is, it came to me very suddenly and is fluffy

One day you feel so bad that you don't care about revealing yourselves to Basterds. You come to Hugo, who is sitting near the campfire with others, and lay your head on his shoulder. He gently hugs you, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. Other Basterds stay in silent shock, but neither of you two give a damn about it.