Authorial Note(s): Honestly, this is nothing just something written for a friend who asked - thought you all might as well reap the benefits and maybe the RSS feed for this category would move just a bit. All things in this collection is straight up smut so oh shit ya'll, can you handle that? Anyway, if I get around to uploading the rest they are all unconnected pieces. I would hope you are all clearly aware what smut is, that is why this is in the mature section.

Edited: 05/23/10

The Rites of Spring
Title: Death of Me
Length: 5 pages, 2112 words.
Characters: Donny Donowitz / Original Female

Elena Howlett had taken it upon herself not to think beyond hours. In a life that could be snuffed out as easily as a candle, it was understandable. Every footstep was a dance with danger, with the floor made up sharpens knives. Plans were pointless; staying alive was as good as it got for her. From her small subdivision of the French Resistance to her accidental joining with the Basterds, every step of her dangerous dance had led her to this moment. To her being in the basement of some godforsaken tavern, to Wilhelm Wicki's warm dead corpse on top of her lower half.

Even in the face of death he had been a gentleman.

The stone floor of the tavern bit into her back as her mind fought to catch up with what had happened. The basement had become eerily silent by then; the last gunshot still ringing heavily in her ears. She could feel Wicki's blood staining the dress she had been forced into wearing, it had become just another reminder that the whole meeting had gone sour. The heavy smell of sulfur mingled with the well known iron scent of blood.

"…is anybody alive on our side?" It was with near muted ears that she barely heard Aldo's voice.

"I'm alive!"

The actress. Of course, Elena thought, there would be no true justice.

"…Me."

Through her haze she barely voiced her answered to Aldo while on the fringe of her consciousness could hear voices - German and American alike - arguing. Trying to come to an agreement though she couldn't concentrate on their words, everything hurt. Her ribs felt bruised, though luckily not broken, and while she struggled to pull herself into a sitting position without disturbing anything, she could see Bridget von Hammersmark sit up as well.

Soon enough the voices stopped all together, replaced with the sound of a single gunshot. From her vantage point she could clearly see Hammersmark, arm out stretched with small pistol smoking. With seconds two massive hands gripped her forearms, yanking her none too gentle to her feet and tugging her bloodied from into a large chest. Her head swam from the sudden series of jarring movements, so much Elena could barely make out the blobbed form before. Pale skin, large wide shoulders and dark, clean cut hair. Donny Donowitz. Before she was even aware of it, they had emptied out of the tavern and left the bodies of the two fallen Basterds behind.

Everything from how she got from the basement tavern to her current position was a haze. The Lieutenant's suspicions and Hammersmark's new information – Hitler to be present at the premiere, all the men that needed to be taken out together. All of them in one place, in Paris at some no name cinema, all waiting to be taken out if Operation Kino went right in spite of all that gone wrong. But none of that explained her current situation, pressed with against the only man left who instilled fear in the German army with a simple name: the Bear Jew. Though Elena knew him simply as Donny Donowitz, she knew he had been aptly given his nickname of a bear. He was tall, towering over her a good couple inches with broad shoulders and broad muscled back. None of his features were surprising to Elena though, he had to have the physical strength to crush skulls by use of a wooden bat somehow. In comparison he could snap her small bird-like bones like a twig within seconds.

There were no words spoken between them, though there never were and they weren't needed; especially when Donny almost snapped her wrist from pulling her into the bathroom, tossing her into the wall. His mouth latched onto her neck with what could only be described by Elena as vampiric gusto. Suckling at the rapidly beating pulse point his tongue lashed out to needle the throbbing vein as Elena's dried blood stained hands twisted in his dark mane. As her nails dug into his scalp, Donny easily lifted her by her thighs to cradle her hips against his own, pressing her heavily into the wall. He moved on from her throat soon after, the skin littered with pink and red marks from his teeth before drifting towards her ear to bite her earlobe.

"This isn't gonna be over quickly, sweetheart" He growled, his voice sending delicious if not, anticipatory shivers down her spine.

Even if she had wanted to, Elena wouldn't have been able to respond before Donny's mouth descended upon her own, teeth clashing against teeth, pulling lips. His need was agonizing as her low pouts and throaty moans floated in the room. As his fingers caressed her in such an intimate way it drove his urgency to notches Donny hadn't thought even existed. The kisses from him were possessive, demanding and taking everything; stealing in her mouth, tongue plundering to take vengeance of everything in its path. Though Elena was no passive partner, she fought to duel his dominant tongue, trying in vain to tame his obsessive muscle with her own. As she fought hard for dominance, it seemed that every time she took a breath she inhaled his scent. It penetrated her senses, driving her mad allowing a moan or a whimper to escape her throat unabashed. Hands are had been busy grasping his face slid down to clasp broad muscled shoulders, marveling at the wide expanse in comparison to her delicate hands.

As Donny pressed her form harder into the wall - practically making her part of the decor - his fingers trailed a heated path from her breast to hip before digging into her flesh, only serving to elicit a heady moan from the woman beneath him. His already precarious control was ready to snap, as it had been since yanking Elena's prone form from the tavern floor. His mouth continued to attack her own in a savage kiss as his hands moved south from her hips to the slit of her bloodied dress. Keeping her pressed into the wall, Donny's fingers traced along her inner thigh, edging and stroking just out of reach. His lips moved from her own sliding up her cheek, trailing to her ear with heavy breathing.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. Is all this for me?" He taunted, his voice husky and hitting that masterful timbre that just seemed to make Elena lose all coherent thought. While she sought to find a response but she could only take a sharp breath as his calloused fingers danced over throbbing places. Her back arched, straining against Donny's hold as liquid fire consumed her and only continued to grow as he ignored her vocal begging.

"Mmmm I'll take that as a yes," He rasped against her ear before sliding down to bite her erratic pulse. Elena's smooth skin, despite being bloodied and sweated, still released a scent that hinted at vanilla and lavender. At a crawl of apace, Donny's hands moved away from her inner thigh to force Elena to wrap her legs tightly around his waist. Roughly he moved their pressed bodies from the wall to the closed room door while Elena gasped, a look of surprise overcoming her face - at the rip that echoed through the room and the somewhat fragmented thought of when exactly he had gotten his own pants down?

"Now, Elena." Donny snarled against her mouth, holding his body back for a moment longer before viciously seeming to spear her into the wall. A loud cry ripped from deep within her throat though it was muffled by Donny's own mouth swallowing it in the form of another possessive kiss. Lost in the cadence he himself had set, it was one of made up of violent slams and vicious pumps. While her body had been given little to no time to adjust at his sudden invasion, to her embarrassment, it felt wonderful. Donny gave a devious smirk before speaking in somewhat of his condescending yet still caring tone, "There we go."

Her nails dug into Donny's broad shoulders, piercing the skin not covered by his white beater, creating small crescent moons across his back as her grip shifted. Shivers and small almost uncontrollable tremors wracked their way down her back to pool at the base of her spine. One hand slipped from her hip to mid back, forcing her to arch even, the angle that should have been painful was anything but. Ripping her mouth from her lips Elena buried her face into his neck, her teeth sinking into his flesh while her hands grasped at his form in some urgent need to be grounded.

"Jesus," Elena rasped out as his last thrust hit a particularly erogenous point. "Christ."

Each movement was rough, his hands dug into her skin bruising easily as the sound of her satisfaction fueled his need. As he felt her warm, erratic breath against his neck he pulled back, forcing Elena back against the wall to see her fully. His look was smoldering as he possessed her fully with his gaze; the way her body moved while still encased in the bloodied black dress that skirt bunched around her waist, the way her neck seemed to carry all the red bite marks he had made and not beyond his scope was the way her face seemed flushed.

Elena's fingers dug deep into the rock hard muscles of Donny's biceps while the tremors racked her body. Her scream was swallowed whole by his mouth once again devouring her own, his own groan vibrating from deep within his chest as Elena's legs tightened around his waist. Their bodies seemed to spasm, hearts skipping a beat while both their grips on one another tightened then lacked as they calmed. Donny, with labored breathing, buried his face in the crook of her neck while his heartbeat drummed like a mantra in his ears. A thin sheet of perspiration had covered his body from the physical exertion of the last few moments, forcing his white beater to cling as if it were a second skin. Elena's legs weakened their hold around his waist as they both fought to regain themselves.

Neither spoke a word, their breathing the only sound filling the bathroom, labored as if they had sprinted for their lives. Elena's arms had slowly found their way around Donny's neck, while his lips kissed her neck softly. In a sporadic pattern he moved, stopping only to nip and suckle at the already abused skin before moving to trail along her jaw to her lips. Her hands were still bloodied, soiled from their fallen comrades, as were her dress and legs. It was unknown just how long they stayed in their place, slouched against the door breathing each other in, but it was Elena's questioning voice that broke their false, self-made lull of peace.

"…We're probably going to die, yeah?"

"You almost died tonight," He grumbled against her lips.

"That isn't what I asked Donowitz," She bit back, pulling his face away from her own. The sudden movement sent tremors through her still overly sensitive nerves, forcing her to release somewhat of a whimper, tighten her legs. Neither said anything after that, they simply looked at each other for a moment, each struggling.

"No," Donny conceded to her. "We won't"

He sounded as if he believed the words, but as they passed his lips a sour taste remained in his mouth. They both knew it was a lie; their deaths were the only thing certain in the coming days.

FIN.