#cliff booth x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multifandomfanfic · 2 years

Text

James Bond

Paring: Cliff Booth x fem! Reader

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

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

Word Count: 6.1k

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

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

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

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

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

“Cliff Booth?!”

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

“But… he’s a stunt double?!”

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

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

I scoffed. He was joking, right?

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

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

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

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

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

“He better keep his shit together…”

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

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

“Y/N… he’s a professional-”

“They say he killed his own wife!”

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

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

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

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

“Look Y/N… you’re young-”

“I’m not a rookie.”

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

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

I know exactly what I'm doing.

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

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

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

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

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

David tilted his head slightly forward.

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

David smirked and nodded devilishly, raising a finger.

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

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

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

I pursed my lips.

“Sure… whatever.”

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

“Well… that is my job.”

David chuckled, a crooked smile forming on his face.

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

I rolled my eyes nonchalantly.

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

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

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

The weather here was always perfect.

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

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

Let’s hope he doesn’t screw this up.

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

David.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugh.”

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

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

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

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

“Hey Dave, how’s it going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m excited to do this movie David…”

“Thank you for the opportunity…”

“I love your work…”

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

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

Huh?! What did he say?!

Oh God, I needed to prepare myself.

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

Oh wait… why is he coming over?

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

Don’t panic.

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

“Fuck!”

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

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

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

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

“Come in.”

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

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

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

“Oh… hello…”

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

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

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

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

“In like… two hours maybe.”

“Okay… Thanks for telling me.”

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

It was unmistakably a slow burn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled.

“Sometimes…”

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

Okay, this is ridiculous.

I raised my head to meet his stare.

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

“Are you gonna leave now?”

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

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

Now he was just messing with me.

“Fine… I don’t really care.”

I did care. I very much did care.

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

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

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

“Boss said I have a good look…”

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

“I’m sure that stroked your ego.”

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

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

“You’ve got fire in you… I like it.”

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

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

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

Cliff scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re filming now! Get on set!”

“I’ll be right out!”

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

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

“Okay… let’s do this.”

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

Thank God.

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

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

Cliff was dressed in the same outfit as before.

Was that his costume?

I suppose it did fit the character.

In a sense, the character reflected his own personality.

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

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

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

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

“Places…”

“Oh… right!”

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

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

I’ll be alright.

I can do this.

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

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

The club scene?

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

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

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

Cliff was thinking the same thing as me.

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

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

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

“Sure… I’m good with that.”

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

“Y/N?”

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

I flushed bright red.

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

David nodded.

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

“Sure! Sounds great!”

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

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

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

I changed my outfit and did my own makeup.

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

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

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

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

I swiped the eyeliner against my skin.

“Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because I’d definitely hate it.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh God… that was too much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He knew what I was thinking.

He knew exactly what I was thinking.

How could he not?

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

I did.

I knew exactly what all of this was about.

I knew exactly where this was going.

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

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

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

“Waddya have to say about that?”

I gulped.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do know…”

“I…”

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

He scoffed.

“Alright honey…”

My lower abdomen fluttered at the pet name.

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

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

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

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

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

“God you’re beautiful…”

He mumbled almost incoherently.

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

I swallowed, my throat becoming constricted with fear.

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be nervous…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No teasing.”

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

“Okay…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re beautiful Cliff…”

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

Cliff scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck… you’re such a good girl.”

He gasped in between strangled moans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You ready for me honey?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Stand… let me undress you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cliff… please… I need you.”

Cliff smirked against my skin.

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

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

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

“Keep going…”

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

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

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

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

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

I moaned loudly, grasping onto his hair for leverage.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cliff… I’m gonna cum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Definitely…”

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

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

He was everything perfect wrapped into one.

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

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soft-for-them · 1 year

Text

Apologies - Once upon a time in Hollywood & plus size reader

Summary: You and Rick, like most siblings do, aren't talking because of an argument. The only thing getting you both to apologise to each other is a group of cult members trying to kill you. (Platonic, reader is Rick's step sister who he's helped raise, so no shipping.)

Trigger warning: Descriptions of fighting and injury, this fic is mainly based in the scene in the film were the Manson family try to kill Cliff, Francesca and Rick, so yeah, there's blood.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: I like the idea of writing more fics with the sister reader, idk I think it would be sweet.

The ever constant headache for you both had started around fifteen years ago, you being around five years old whist your older step brother was in his prime staring in Hollywood films and bedding super models like it was a causal Tuesday night.

Around that time your mother had remarried Rick Dalton’s father and them both wanting to get away from it all (aka you) had dropped you off at a random film set were extras roamed around in fake blood and plastic disembodied limbs littered the ground like gravel.

Your ‘parents’ didn’t care that they had dropped you off on the day were a massacre scene was being shoot. Thinking back to that blurry memory you think they hadn’t even realised it was a high budget horror flick Rick was staring in, all they thought about at that time was ditching the hyperactive child on the rich enough son who probably could hire a baby sitter unlike they could.

Whilst Rick spent most of the day dazzling the camera crew and his female co-lead you had spent most of the day in the makeup trailer been cooed over by the hair and makeup ladies whilst stuffing your face with cheese puffs and apple juice.

At one point Cliff Booth had hobbled in, cigarette hanging from his bloody lips and his leg aching from the dangerous stunt he had just performed, his blue eyes going wide as a little curly haired child cheered as he entered the makeup trailer.

“Why is there a child in here?” he had asked whilst taking the cigarette from his lips with one hand whilst trying to rub off the fake blood dribbling from his face with the other.

The makeup ladies had to quickly wipe his face off with soaked cotton balls and wet wipes because he was just making the red mess even worse all whilst a bright eyed you began babbling to him like you knew him forever.

“I’m five!” you had happily declared as one of the women whispered the situation to Cliff.

“That you are little lady.”

So for the next hour instead of fucking off smoking half a pack and challenging cocky actors to fights Cliff Booth spent his time entertaining you. He had no clue what to do with a child but he knew at that moment he had to protect you, he’d always did with Rick and call it an itch but he had a feeling that you were going to stick around.

Now fifteen years later, you complain to Cliff as you dry brush a fake sword’s blade with a rust brown paint, pots of paints and film props surrounding you at your little prop master’s table ready to topple over.

Over the many years you’ve been in and out of your brother’s life, mostly due to your parent’s inability to look after you correctly, you’ve grown to loath the big screen and all the entitled people that come with it, instead falling in love with the small screen and indie films.

Many days you’ve spent watching Star Trek or Colombo on the telly with Rick pointing out which sets and props look to be made of Styrofoam and flimsy plastic.

Now at the age of twenty you have solid work as a prop maker for television. You love the job and you love the people.

Right at this moment you’re trying to make foam swords look real whilst Cliff tries to talk you around to apologising to your brother all because you called him an idiot for looking down on Spaghetti Westerns because they were ‘beneath him’.

“I’m not saying sorry Cliff.” You grumble as you dip your paint brush in a rusty looking solution made from many brown paints and diluting alcohol, “I didn’t spend most of my childhood stuck on his sofa watching B movies only for his failing ass to talk shit about them!”

Cliff hovers around you cluttered desk, the trailer you work in being cramped and filled to the brim with handmade props, no cigarette in sight for he has developed the habit of not smoking when you’re around (that and the trailer filled with props are so flammable that it would combust into flames at out flick of a lighter.)

“AND THEN, WHAT CLIFF!?!” your voice crescendos as you pad away any blotting paint on the prop sword, “He goes and does all those Spaghetti Westerns anyway getting the lead in that Nebraska Jim flick and what, a wife too! He’s funnelling money in the bin like it’s nothing and he still has the gall to talk shit about my line of work and what pictures I decide to create props for.”

You stand up you shin hitting leg of the table you work at making you swear up a storm.

Cliff only watches in slight amusement.

“I’ve worked on Star Trek you know, I’m friends with Leonard Nimoy, I’ve been inside DeForest Kelley house multiple times, I’ve been personally invited and gone to countless parties hosted by Grace Kelly and her husband all because I was nice to her that one time on the set of that musical film-“

“-I thought you didn’t like the Hollywood type.” Cliff asks in such brotherly way trying to get a rise out of you.

What, he might be fed up with your ongoing feud with Rick but he still sees you as his own little sister and he does find it fun teasing you.

“Yeah, well most of them I don’t but she is pretty and nice and she’s my friend- for fuck’s sake Rick is just jealous!”

“Well, that he might be squirt but I think-“ Cliff begins to guide you out the trailer away from the fumes of alcohol and oil paints, “- he might be more jealous that his little sister is being taken away by all these big wig actors.”

Hair a mess, paint covering your dungarees and magnifying glasses propped on top of your head like you some kind of mad scientist, a flow of extras on their break all in medieval garbs walking around, you turn around to Cliff with an anger on your face that melts into a profound sadness.

“He didn’t even invite me to his wedding, I haven’t even met his wife, for crying out loud Cliff I don’t want another absent father, I’ve already got plenty of those.”

Cliff was itching to get out a cigarette out of pocket but once he hears your outburst, once he sees your eyes welling up with years and your round body slump somewhat he bounds over and engulfs you in a big hug that only fathers and father figurers know how to do.

“Come home and talk with Rick. I’ll be there and you can meet Francesca.”

You look up at Cliff as you both begin swaying in the hug.

“Can Brandy come to?”

“Of course kiddo-“ he says tightening his grip on you, “-to be honest I think she likes you the best.”

You let out a loud booming laugh that says ‘Ha! I knew it.’ one that gets Cliff laughing too.

I didn’t go quite as planned.

At first when you showed up Rick tried to act like nothing had happened, he did his normal smooching. He offered you a drink and smiled that movie star smile at you all whilst not introducing you to his wife who stood in the background slightly confused at the odd ordeal.

You waved off his offer of a drink and went straight to the fridge plucking out a can of beer.

“You want one Francesca?” you had asked, she replied with a baffled ‘no’ before you plonked yourself down on the sofa making yourself right at home.

You truly wonder what Francesca Capucci thought at that very moment seeing a round young woman with a smile like Mama Cass and a the grace of Etta James all rolled up in pain stained dungarees and Dr. Martens boots.

One thing lead to another, you and Francesca became fast friends whilst Rick and Cliff went off for drinks, and now you're lounging on Rick’s sofa with Brandy’s head on your lap and Cliff offering you a LSD laced cigarette which he’s been smoking.

“Shit, things must be bad if you’re smoking near me?” you grumble as you pat Brandy’s head with a lazy hand, “Nothing was resolved so let’s get shit faced, because that always goes well.”

“At least you met Francesca.” Cliff mutters as his face turns all smiley as the drugs take effect.

“Hum, yeah, she’s real pretty ain’t she…” you ponder out loud as the front door gets kicked in.

You jump up slightly, Brandy not too bothered by the two greasy haired people clad in black who stand there trying to look menacing.

“Ahhhh, can I help you?” Cliff asks.

Another one appears all in black too, her face a pale sickly white, a knife in her hand.

And to think your day couldn’t get any worse because oh boy, it does.

One moment you’re complaining to Cliff about your idiot brother with Brandy on your lap trying to cheer you up, the next thing you know you have a gun aimed at your face by the ‘horsey’ guy and Francesca only in her underwear being forced out into the living room by the redhead.

Thank fuck Cliff is both level headed and slightly crazy at the same time because one moment he’s laughing like a clown and the next Brandy is attacking the fuckers which gives you a bit of time to move out the way of the gun.

It’s when this so called Tex starts hitting Brandy do you snap out you little panicked trace (having a gun aimed at you does that to a person) do you leap over the sofa and begin punching him square in the face, your body holding him down so he can’t kick his way out of it, Brandy still mauling his arm like it was a tug rope.

By the time Cliff has thrown the can at the face of the pale woman, knocking her straight down and breaking her little white nose, you’re fully on top of Tex trying to knock him out.

Now, you were never the best puncher, when you were fourteen you punched a bully who was teasing you about your weight only to breaking your thumb in the process, by my gosh is the adrenaline kicking in has you trying to knock out Tex.

The frightened screams of Francesca in the background spurs you on, the fear of the nice (and very attractive) woman getting hurt making you see red.

Maybe you’ll unpack your childlike crush on the starlet along with the ongoing feud with your brother later on when you’re not trying to wrestle a grown man (said grown man who’s now getting his balls bit by Brandy.)

(Brandy will defiantly get all the treats and cuddles later on.)

“CLIFF! DO SOMETHING YOU DUMB BITCH!” you scream as Tex punches at you, some hits missing but most slamming right into your soft sides.

Doing something Cliff clicks his fingers and Brandy is off mauling Samara. At the same time Tex pushes you off him and charges at Cliff like an angry bull, one eye already going black from you repeated punches.

It’s all a fucking shambles all culminating in you climbing through a smashed window to see your dear brother Rick using his fucking flamethrower to burn the pale bitch like he was finishing crème brulee with a blow torch.

How fun.

“Rick! Be careful!” you try to scream but it only comes out as a pain filled gabble, “Rick.”

Your last call of ‘Rick’ sounds more like a sob than a word, your soft body in so much pain. Your face is stained with splatters of blood and trails of big fat tears which when Rick sees he scrambles to take off his flamethrower (safely of course) to run over to you and engulf you in the biggest of hugs.

Your cries of your brother’s name as you break down and cling onto him cause the older man to start crying ugly tears, ones that are louder that your own sobs.

“I’m sorry Rick.” you sniffle out.

“I’m sorry too-“ he lays a kiss on your hair and starts rocking you side to side in the tight hug like he used to do when you were little and had a nightmare, “I’ve been ignoring you and I didn’t tell you about Francesca.”

“I’m sorry too for ignoring you as well.”

“I’m sorry for being so mean-“

For the next ten mites the two of you prattle off many apologises, too many really, so much so that when the red and blue flashing lights of emergency services clouds your blurry vision and paramedics try to pry you away from Rick you’re both still apologising.

#once upon a time in hollywood #once upon a time... in hollywood #once upon a time in hollywood x reader #rick dalton #rick dalton x reader #cliff booth #cliff booth x reader #x platonic reader #x plus size reader #plus size reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #x sister reader #platonic rick dalton x reader #platonic cliff booth x reader

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hobisfavoritespritecan · 2 years

Text

Blueberries and Cigarettes

Cliff Booth X Reader

Request by @multifandomfanfic : "Maybe something along the lines of you're a hitchhiker and you meet him after he picks you up from a hitchhiking experience and then you guys like make out in his car."

⚠️ Warnings: Language, drug use ⚠️

The sun was unnecessarily hot today as you dragged your feet along the sidewalk; you were quite a ways away from home. The heat blaring down on your bare shoulders signified you that you were going to be burnt by the end of the day. The sidewalk hurt your feet and your shorts felt especially sticky as you continued towards the open road; your cherry lollipop that you picked up at the convenience store on your little adventure stuck to the roof of your mouth. This summer was brutal.

You passed a couple of signs along the way that were covered with graffiti and dirt. This was Hollywood- home of the stars. Maybe you'd have appreciated it more if it wasn't so grimy. The spots that were uninhabited by celebrities and were filled with the normal working citizens of America were less scenic.

"Hey!" A voice could be heard from behind you and instantly you identified it to be one of the girls from Spahn Ranch. A brunette with large eyes and a tooth gap started making her way towards you with a large jar of pickles under her right arm. Eating one of them herself, she practically throws herself onto you with a smile and a shirt stained with pickle juice.

"Hi." You said, only because you didn't want to be rude. You weren't really a fan of Pussy (the girl, not the thing itself) since she was always a bit more spontaneous and over-the-top than you preferred in a person. She was sweet, just a bit too...

You would've finished that thought, but a pickle was suddenly stuffed into your mouth.

"You like? Stole em' from that place up in town." She said, crunching on another one.

You coughed and took it out of your mouth. "Pussy, I have a sucker."

She laughed with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth and made a similar noise to a hissing cat. Her hair was frizzy now that she had been under the sun and her rainbow top was tied incorrectly behind her neck. These small little things about her made her redeemable in a way.

You smiled. "It's okay, you wacko. Yes, the pickles are good, you should try them with a cherry sucker in the back of your throat too."

She giggled and ran towards the bench just a little ways away from where you were walking. You ditched the candy on the ground and continued to eat the cucumber that was forced into your face. The colorful billboards around you were blinding but extravagant, and you didn't know what sight was more interesting; the colors of the advertisements or Pussy sticking her thumb out at the speeding cars nearby as she drank from the jar. "Asshole!" She screamed at the car that threatened to stop, but made a quick turn and drove off in the other direction.

After what seemed like twenty minutes of sitting with Pussy, a yellow car drove up by the sidewalk and stopped in its tracks. You couldn't really see whoever was behind the wheel, but Pussy looked ecstatic.

"It's Mr. Hawaii!!" She said, and pulled your arm up to the vehicle, forcing you and the stranger to come face to face. He was quite a bit older and very handsome, and he had a nice tan that followed all the way down to the hem of his shirt. Meaning: he was tanned everywhere. And boy, did that leave a nice first impression. Longer hair and sunglasses framed his face as he lifted the lenses above his eyes and rested them on his head. A bright yellow Hawaiian shirt adorned his figure and a cigarette was stuck between his teeth, unlit. To say this guy wasn't the most handsome man you've seen would be a complete and total lie.

"Uh, hey." You said, giving a curt wave. You took notice of how he smiled at you; it was full of warmth and invitation. You blushed, feeling your entire body go hot the moment he flashed his brilliant teeth in your direction.

"Well, hello there," He nodded and then looked at Pussy, "You need a ride?"

Pussy must've noticed how enthralled you were by Mr. Hawaii already, so she nudged you in the direction of the passenger side window and grinned as she saw your cheeks flush once more. "Nope, but they do!"

You mentally cursed the girl but also thanked her because goddamn you really wanted to get in the car with this guy.

"Well alrighty then. Hop in?" He finally lit the cigarette and rested his elbow out the window, looking completely and utterly relaxed. He was so laid back that it almost scared you, wondering if he had any ulterior motives for his car ride. But then again, Pussy wouldn't have introduced you with such excitement if she didn't trust the guy.

You nodded in response and opened the car door, giving Pussy a look saying 'Thank you,' as you sat down. The car radio was playing "Bring A Little Lovin'" by Los Bravos and the familiarity of the popular song put any nerves you had to ease. She shut the door behind you from the outside and grinned, picking up another pickle out of the jar and popping it into her mouth. You were about to say something to her through the open window, but Mr. Hawaii was already speeding away and Pussy had busied herself in flipping someone off from the other side of the street.

It had only been two minutes before the man tried to start a conversation, looking back and forth from you to the mirror. "So, how you know Pussy?" He said with a slight southern accent, something you didn't pick up the first time you'd heard him.

"She's just another hippie from Spahn." You said, looking out at the buildings you passed by. Mr. Hawaii drove pretty carelessly.

"Ah." He said, turning his eyes back to the road. Your eyes caught his hand on the stick shift and a bunch of interesting thoughts ran through your head. You knew you probably shouldn't be fancying him in the way you were, but you couldn't help yourself. "Somethin the matter?"

Oh shit. He had caught you staring.

"Oh nothing! Just looking around your nice car." You said, trying to cover up the fact that you were checking him out. He seemed to accept your answer, but you knew deep down that he was aware of your antics. With that sky smile of his and the cigarette between his lips, you knew you were done for the minute you set foot in the vehicle.

Another moment of silence passes as he continues to drive every which way, effortlessly rounding corners and driving through red lights earning a couple of honks and beeps from other cars. Ironically, you felt totally safe.

"So where'ya heading?" He shook his head, letting the glasses fall down into his face and moving his hair in every which way.

"I'm not really in a rush to get anywhere," you said, now anxious that because you didn't have a set destination that you were wasting his time, "You can drop me off here if you have somewhere to be."

He looked at the watch on his wrist and grinned. "Nah, we can keep goin'," he replied.

You played with the hem of your shirt as you stared awkwardly at your outfit. What to do now? It was probably your turn to start the conversation since he had broken the silence the past two times, yet you didn't know what to say. Luckily for you, he speaks again.

"So," he begins, his little western accent kicking in slightly as he speaks. His mouth was drawn into a smile and he leaned over in the seat, staring at you once the two of you reached a red light. "I know a really great ice cream shop a little ways down from here. We could go if you wanted."

"Sure!" You said, hoping it didn't sound too enthusiastic.

...

The car ride wasn't as silent anymore once you had made it to the shoppe. Picking out a strawberry ice cream while your driver licked away at a blueberry one, you held in your astonishment with the beautiful man before you. Sure, Pussy had forced pickles into your mouth and had annoyed you before but goddamn you were thankful that she introduced you to a specimen as fine as Mr. Hawaii.

"That reminds me," you begin, taking another lick of the sweet goodness, "What's your name?"

"Well, what's yours?" He flashes you that brilliant smile once more.

"(Y/N)." You say while watching his body language. Leaning into the table, he gets slightly closer to you and before you know it, he has a hand by your mouth wiping away the straw strawberry.

"I like (Y/N)." He says, laughing as you get all hot and flustered. "My name's Cliff. Cliff Booth."

You realize that you vaguely remember that name from somewhere, although you can't place a finger on it. Mentally shrugging, you see Cliff go for another bite of his ice cream but fail as he ends up with a glob of it on his nose. Just as he's about to wipe it off, you reach out your hand and do it for him. "Allow me, you helped me out the last time." Grinning, you see his cheeks turn a slight red.

"(Y/N), I'm not usually this blunt but uh...you said you weren't in a rush to get anywhere right?"

Wondering where he was possibly going with this, you nod your head in agreement and give him a quizzical expression.

"Well do you want to make out in my car?"

Nearly choking, you stare at him with wide eyes. There's no way someone as handsome and charismatic as him wanted to make out with you. Especially when you first met via hitchhiking. But something told you this was too good of an opportunity to pass up seeing how eager the two of you seemed. You weren't going to let the insecurities get in the way of this one.

"Uh... Yes?" You said with as much enthusiasm as you could muster in the moment, still being somewhat disconnected that this was the reality that you were living in. He takes your hand and leads you back to the vehicle you would always associate with him after this moment and you both ditch what was left of your ice creams in the nearest trash can. Time seemed to slow as you opened up the door on the passenger side and close it, watching as Cliff gets in the driver's seat. He puts a hand along your jaw, leaning you closer to him as he moves his hand to rest along your thigh.

"Are you sure this is okay?" He asks you, noting not only your physical and emotional well-being but also remembering the slightly less average than normal age gap between you.

"Yes, absolutely."

That was all he needed before he leaned in, placing his lips on yours and holding you pressed against his face. He was soft and kind and added very little pressure as he started to loosen up around you and the tight space the car had to offer. It filled you with claustrophobia but the good kind as it felt there was a closeness you wouldn't have been able to reach anywhere else.

"You taste like strawberries and pickles." He says, pulling away from you just to rest his forehead against yours after a while. Sharp deep breaths were heard all throughout the space as you tried to catch your breath, your face a giant smile and your heart a billion butterflies trying to escape your chest all at once. This was where you felt the most at home.

"Well you taste like blueberries and cigarettes, which happens to be my new favorite taste in the world." You say, leaning in for more affection from the stranger but not stranger before you.

...

(A/N): I hope this is okay! Again, I'm so so sorry that it took me this long to finish your beautiful fanfiction request but I honestly loved writing every part of this short story.

With love, Panko Shrimp 💛 🦐

#brad pitt x reader #brad pitt #cliff booth imagines #cliff booth x reader #cliff booth #ouatih #celebrity fanfiction #fanfiction #hobisfavoritespritecan

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bananawafers · 1 year

Text

IT IS DILF HOURS LADIES AND GENTLEMEN . we r xtra delulu today

#joel miller #pedro pascal #rick grimes #ricky dicky doo da grimes #walter white #lalo x reader #lalo salamanca #eduardo lalo salamanca #luke danes #brad pitt #cliff booth #SoundCloud

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alittlebitofsainz · 10 days

Text

- he kissed me right in front of my friends -

prompt: “i threw a party, he kissed me right in front of my friends, i felt so far from the cliffs.”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: if you could have one birthday wish granted, it would be that you no longer had to hide your relationship.

a/n: lyrics from track #89 there it goes by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“hey, happy birthday baby!”

you couldn’t help but let your lips curve into a soft smile as lando pressed a kiss to your cheek, holding out a bag full of presents as he stepped inside your apartment. you accepted it graciously, eyes wide at the sheer number of gifts.

“lan, you really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to.” he cut you off with a shake of his head, “for my special girl.”

he leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips, but you quickly batted him away.

“careful, lan, people might see!” you giggled, looking up at him like he’d lost his mind. it had been eight months of keeping your relationship under wraps, and while you both understood why it had to be that way, it still didn’t make it easy. it was moments like these where you yearned for a normal relationship, one where your partner wasn’t in the spotlight, one where he could give you a kiss on your birthday and it wouldn’t be plastered all over social media the next day. but it was worth it, you thought as you looked up at lando’s face, eagerly waiting for you to open your presents. it was worth it to call him yours, even if it was only in secret.

yeah, it was worth it, you thought, as you watched lando laughing uncontrollably at something max had said, the two of them stationed behind the dj booth you’d hired for the party. in general, lando didn’t go much on drinking, and he’d sworn off djing for the most part, but he was willing to make exceptions for your special day, and you smiled to see him enjoying himself. your best friend followed your gaze, noticing you phasing out of the group conversation you were in, and nudged you.

“you’re staring, y/n. you totally fancy him.” she teased, and for a moment you almost slipped up, you almost replied with yeah, I really do. but you caught yourself, instead laughing it off with a sharp shake of your head, elbowing her right back.

“knock it off, we’re just mates.” you protested, but your friend arched an eyebrow and pursed her lips in a way that suggested that she didn’t quite believe you. she opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment, the lights shut off and the music cut out. you instinctively glanced over back towards the dj booth, eyes searching for lando, confused to find him gone. but the confusion only lasted for a moment as a glow of light emerged from the kitchen; twenty lit candles pressed into a cake, held up by lando as he brought it across the room towards you, all your friends joining in and singing happy birthday to you. you grinned, feeling tears prick your eyes. god, you’d never been happier. there was only one thing that could’ve made this day more incredible, and you sighed to yourself as you watched lando bring the cake closer, lowering it slightly so you could blow out the candles. his eyes locked on yours for just a moment, and you swore you felt your heart stop.

“make a wish.” he murmured.

you blew out the candles, earning a cheer and a few hip hip hoorays from your friends gathered around you. lando set the cake down on the table, another friend stepping in to help cut and distribute it to guests, allowing you just a moment to talk whilst everyone was distracted.

“what did you wish for?” he asked, voice low, making you lean in to be able to hear him above the music which had started up again. you arched an eyebrow.

“if I tell you, it won’t come true.” you retorted, the corner of your lips curving up into a wry smile. it always gave you butterflies, flirting with lando in public. something about it made you feel like you were still in that stage where anything could happen, like you were just starting to get to know him all over again. his expression changed slightly as he reached into his back pocket.

“now don’t yell at me, but I got you one last present.”

“lando!” you protested; you’d already admonished him earlier after you’d opened all your gifts from him. you could tell he’d spent a lot of money, more than you believed you deserved, on anything you’d ever mentioned wanting. shoes, a nice handbag, a designer coat, expensive earrings. but it wasn’t just material things, he’d got tickets to than gig you mentioned you wanted to go to, taken out an annual membership for the gardens you always liked going to for some peace and quiet, donated money to the shelter your parents adopted the family dog from. it was far too much, yet lando insisted it wasn’t enough to show you how much he loved you.

“I said don’t yell at me!” he replied playfully, producing a small wrapped item and holding it out to you, “it’s not an expensive one. it’s just… well, just open it and see.”

you peeled off the wrapping paper with gentle fingers, the package feeling so delicate in your hands compared to all the other larger gifts he’d showered you with. it revealed a gold necklace, with a single ‘L’ hanging from the chain. you looked at it, awestruck, running a finger over the gold letter.

“lan, this is beautiful.” you murmured softly.

“to remind you how much I love you, even if I can’t always show it.” he explained softly, and you felt a lump form in your throat. it was so bittersweet, you thought, as he took the necklace from your hands and instructed you to turn around so he could fasten it round your neck. the necklace was like some sort of twisted metaphor for your relationship, always there but often hidden. you turned back to face him, glancing down to admire the jewellery for a moment. if people saw this, it wouldn’t take them long to join the dots, to make the connection, especially if you were next to lando. you sighed, reaching to take the ‘L’ between your fingers and tuck it under your top, to hide it away. but lando’s hand was on yours in an instant, holding it in place, his fingers clasped round yours, clasped round the golden letter. you looked up in surprise.

“don’t hide it.” he said softly, “fuck it. I want people to see it. I want them to know.”

the confidence with which he had said it startled you, but in the best way. you barely had time to process the words before his hand had snaked around your waist, pulling you to him, his lips on yours in an instant. it wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was a kiss that let everyone know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were his, and he was yours.

you pulled away for a moment, eyes on him, but in your peripheral vision you clocked a few of your friends watching the two of you, mouths open, slices of cake forgotten about. your best friend had a smug grin on her face, one that said that she knew all along. you saw max begrudgingly slip pietra a ten pound note. lando saw it too, and laughed. and then you laughed. and then you kissed him again.

“happy birthday.” he murmured, resting his forehead on yours.

“I got my birthday wish.” you murmured in reply.

a/n: and thus concludes the little ‘just friends’ mixtape! check out the previous tracks below:

told her you were just a friend | just don’t want your friend to see

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 imagine

947 notes · View notes

arthenaa · 5 months

Text

blurred lines — mizu x f!reader

synopsis: your relationship with your roommate often threads the lines between friends and of something more.

content: fluff, suggestive themes, modern! au, roommate!mizu one jumping off a cliff joke mentioned, taigen, ringo, and akemi being great friends, mizu uses she/her pronouns, she/her pronouns for reader as well, mizu and you call each other bon/bonnie as an endearment, mizu is ur bf but not rlly your bf yk, mutual pining

song will be later mentioned in the story but listen to it while you're reading <3

It isn't to anyone's surprise that more often than not, people mistake you and Mizu as a couple. It's gotten bad to the point that it's already counted as an inside joke in your little group of five.

Taigen was the main culprit of the joke (as usual). He often lets his tongue run loose in the most random of situations. Whatever piques his interest, he always has something to say about it. You're not sure if it's because of Taigen's natural person magnet trait but surely, you think this is somehow his fault.

"I just want to say how adorable of a couple you two are!" A person from your year—someone you had met in passing during your Ethics class for sure—gushed as she sat down on the empty seat in front of you. You stare at her, mouth slightly agape in shock at the sudden intrusion, Akemi chortles from her seat while Mizu's starting to look like she's about to commit homicide. It was currently your free period, hoping for a time to relax and wait for your next class, you sure weren't expecting to be bombarded by a series of questions about your love life. You're hoping that both of your unwelcomed stares would drive this person away, but the gal continues off on a tangent. "Not to be like—a real gossipy person, but like, I heard from Sanchez that you guys were dating, and I had my suspicions back then during Ethics class but I just HAD to confirm it, y'know?"

You lock eyes with Akemi seated beside the girl as she hides her grin behind her drink. You're so going to wipe that smile off her face soon.

"I'm pretty sure that's none of your business," Mizu deadpans as she stares at her under her tinted glasses. She taps her index finger on the surface of the table, a telltale sign of her impatience. The girl remains oblivious.

"Oh, come on! We were groupmates last semester! I'm pretty sure we're already close enough to know stuff like this," She sends the both of you a wink to which you wince as Mizu stiffens beside you. You're sure it was taking a real toll on her to prevent her from committing a felony and so you've decided to step up.

"I-I'm sorry," You give her a sheepish smile, hand raised to provide a calm reassurance of not being hostile. "I'm sure you mean well and everything but we're really tired. Whatever you're thinking, it's a no."

You give her your best award-winning smile with the hopes that she'll leave you both alone. You see her slightly pull back, finally reading the room but she pauses at the last second as Mizu wraps an arm around your waist. You're not sure why the girl gives you a cheeky grin as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder but your resolve is soon starting to waver if she doesn't get her ass off your table.

"Alright, whatever you say," She coos, eyes squinting playfully as she gathers herself off your booth. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. See you around!"

The three of you watch as she makes her way out of the shop before your shoulders release the tension you've both been holding over the past few minutes. Akemi chuckles at your expressions

"Oh my god, If you hadn't done that I would've gone off the rails," Mizu groans as she rests her head on the table.

"You should've, to be honest, might make this whole debacle a lot more interesting than whatever you have with Y/N," Akemi snickers from her seat as Mizu sends her a glare. "Funniest thing I've seen all semester. Keep it up."

"You're full of shit," Mizu grumbles from her seat. Akemi flashes her her middle finger. You roll your eyes at their banter.

"I don't get what's the big deal," You cross your arms over your chest. "I mean people do the things me and Mizu do all the time."

Akemi gives you a blank stare. "I mean this in the best possible way but if I didn't love you and you said that to me, I would actually slap your face."

"I can slap your face for free, right now."

"Not now, Mizu," You nudged her knee in retaliation as the blue-eyed girl grumbled in response. "Also, bullshit. That's unfair."

Akemi rolls her eyes before slamming her drink down on the table. "That's unfair? You two are basically me and Taigen if Taigen grew the balls to actually court me instead of parading his biceps like a damn himbo. That honestly felt like I'd lost 20 years of my life. She's at your beck and call and even fucking ditches our hangouts just because you had a little cold. That's what's unfair."

You stare at her with furrowed eyebrows as she huffs and takes an angry sip of her drink. You slowly nod, trying to get a sense of her reasoning. Well, you and Mizu had developed a natural sense of service-giving to each other. After all, your deep friendship was only a resort of living together. Wouldn't anyone be that considerate to their best friends?

"I swear to God," Akemi places a hand in front of her mouth as she looks between the two of you. Mizu had already tuned her out, opting to hug you close by the waist and leaning her head on your shoulder as she took the time to rest. "I'm so close to throwing myself off the cliff figuratively and it's both of your fault."

You roll your eyes at her, crumpling a tissue paper before throwing it towards her. The gal dodges it with ease before scrunching her nose.

"You're overreacting."

"Sure," Akemi squints her eyes. "Whatever fits your story."

You're not sure when it started but somehow Akemi's words started to get to you. You knew, for sure, (you think?) that she was just bluffing. Your relationship with Mizu was yours and yours alone, anything between the two of you must be kept between the two of you only. It wasn't as if the comments of other people had affected you—you often tend to brush them off, treating some of them as either praises of your close bond or jokes due to their easygoing nature. You're not sure if it's because of Akemi's short-tempered personality that you've started to notice things too.

"Here," Mizu's voice startles you out of your focus. You turn your head to see the raven-haired gal, hair down and cozy in a black hoodie and sweatpants. You had been studying and getting things done at your uni's library as finals were nearing. The desk at your dorm and the familiarity of your room seemed to mess up with your productivity and so you decided to change venues. Mizu, being the good-hearted angel that she is, drops a cup of coffee beside you and a bag of your favorite food. She then tucks her hands into the pockets of her hoodie.

You look up at her with a pout, eyes softened. "You didn't have to."

Mizu pats your head before gingerly pulling the seat next to you. She sits down and leans her head on her arm perched on the table. "It's the least I could do. You're working hard."

You smile at her praise, glancing at the worksheets sprawled on your table. It wouldn't hurt to take a break, no?

Mizu gives you a raise of an eyebrow as you turn your body towards her, copying her form. Your lips pull into a small smile as you reach out to brush her loose locks. "It's way past your curfew. You should've just slept."

Mizu snorts. "You say that like I'm a child."

You reach out to pinch her cheek causing her to swat your hand away. Letting out a few giggles as she scrunches her nose at you. You would've continued to act normal afterward, there was nothing to freak out over but then Mizu started staring at you with that gaze of hers. Usually, you would either jokingly stare back or playfully ignore her but somehow this time, you're suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. You let out a cough as you turn back toward your worksheets, unable to handle the intensity of her gaze.

Not sure if she noticed it or what, you make quick haste to get back on track with your studying. About 15 minutes in, you hear shifting beside you. Thinking that it's her cue to go, you turn toward her with curiosity but then your chair moves swiftly to her side. You let out a yelp as she moves your chair with one arm, closer toward her.

"Mizu—!" You squeak at the sudden movement as she lets out a few chuckles at your reaction. Soon enough, a deep flush bursts across your cheeks due to the sudden proximity. She's faced toward you, legs spread to accommodate your figure, and her other arm perched on the back of your chair.

You feel your heart speed up as she leans close and smiles. "Get back to studying, Bonnie."

You obediently follow her orders as you lower your head to get back to answering the worksheets in front of you. You hear Mizu chuckle beside you as you willed yourself to continue writing and ignore her very existence.

Heart? Speed up? What the fuck?

There's a moment of reprieve before you feel the sudden thump of Mizu's head against your shoulder.

"What's up?" You hum gingerly, your free hand moving up to gently pet her head. Mizu shifts her body close, the arm at the back of your chair pulling your shoulder and body to her.

"Do you want Italian or Chinese?" She asks out of the blue, eyes watching you write down equations and numerical formulas on your paper. Your heart softens as you feel her other hand envelope over your stomach, pulling you into a side hug.

There weren't many people around the library at this time of the night besides the occasional suffering computer science major seated at the far end of the library and the librarian herself. Mizu allows herself to be vulnerable within your care. You eye your worksheets, debating finishing them or giving your cute roommate dozing off on your shoulder attention.

Nah, fuck it.

You gently close your notes before cupping Mizu's cheek, softly pulling her up from your shoulder.

"Hm?" Mizu hums as she slowly blinks at you, face leaning towards your touch as you cup her face gingerly within your palms. You give her a soft smile, thumbs running softly across her cheeks.

"Ordering takeout might be a bit too much right now," You quietly whisper to her, eyes crinkling playfully. She lets out a few chuckles at your response. "Although, I recall having a waffle mixture back at our dorm and we still have your dad's waffle maker. What do you say?"

Her gaze darts over you face before she pulls away from your touch. You look at her curious as she scoots to the edge of her seat before pulling you into a hug. The raven-haired girl burrows her face on your neck, letting a loud sigh of relief as she encased you in her arms.

"Alright," She mumbles on the collar of your shirt, breath tickling your neck. You flush at her proximity, opting to rest your head gently against hers. Just as the two of you would continue to bask in each other's presence, a cough alerts the two of you to pull away.

Your eyes dart toward the culprit as the librarian raises her eyebrow toward the both of you.

"You can take your couple date elsewhere if you both have nothing better to do here." The old lady deadpans, fanning herself with her foldable fan. The both of you stare as she gives you one last judgmental look before walking away. Mizu wordlessly helps you pack up your stuff, leaving the library with you trailing behind with your ears flushed red.

"Listen," Taigen takes a deep breath before continuing. "We're only choosing your dorm because Akemi has their annual dorm parties, Our kitchen broke so Ringo can't cook, and we know Mizu is a loaded motherfucker, alright? It's absolutely not because we want to see your icky mundane domestic life."

Mizu leans against the doorframe, staring Taigen down as he finishes his piece. You, on the other hand, can only smile from your spot behind Mizu. It had been your scheduled movie night with friends and originally, it was Ringo and Taigen's turn to host but due to unfortunate circumstances, the duty of hosting befell on your shoulders again. Albeit, a bit rushed this time.

Akemi rolls her eyes beside Taigen before stepping up towards the doorway and pushing her way through Mizu's defense (Mizu let her in, she didn't do anything wrong). Ringo smiles gleefully from his spot beside Taigen before sliding his way inside and pulling you in a hug (again, Mizu let him in, he's the only person who can actually cook).

"Y/N!" Your tall bubbly-bear looking friend cheers as he swings you back and forth in his hug. You giggle as you return the gesture, slightly pulling away and patting his cheeks. Ringo grins. "I missed you!"

You playfully roll your eyes at him. "Oh come on Ringo, I saw you last week."

"Too long!" Ringo whines as he rests his head on top of yours. Your heart warms at Ringo's affections. Your dear friend was a walking talking incarnation of a life-sized teddy bear. The two of you continue to giggle at each other's presence, not noticing the pair of blue eyes trained on you.

"Oi, Ring," Mizu calls out from her position by the doorway, eyes pulled into a glare. Ringo stiffens beside you at her tone. You could only blink your eyes at her with a curious gaze. "Get your ass in the kitchen."

"On it!" Ringo makes no haste and eventually bolts to your dorm's kitchen. You place your hand on your hips as you stare at her with a raised eyebrow. Mizu only looks away before catching a sneaking Taigen trying to move his way inside. The raven-haired girl slams her hand on the doorframe preventing Taigen from entering.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mizu asks with a threatening glare. Her eyes squint as you watch Taigen sweatdrop.

"C'mon, man! I just want to fucking watch Ryan Gosling, can you let me in?!" Taigen whines, stomping his foot. Mizu's face stays blank, hand clutching the doorframe. Taigen resorts to plan B and looks up at you from his spot with the most disturbing try of puppy eyes. "Y/N, please I'll treat you all the fucking bobas you want just please pull your war freak of a wife away from me."

You chuckle as he clasps his hands together, ignoring Mizu's pointed glare. You knew that Mizu would let him in either way. After all Mizu says, and you quote, "It's like leaving a fucking dog outside with all that yapping."

Finally deciding to help Taigen, your eyes gaze at Mizu's back with a smile. "Bon, c'mon leave him be."

There's a pause of silence before Mizu eases up on the doorway and eventually side steps. Taigen lets out a noise of victory before making quick steps toward you and places a kiss on the side of your temple.

"This is why you're my favorite," Taigen crinkles his eyes playfully. You roll your eyes, slapping his arm.

"You said that to Akemi 3 days ago."

"The past is past, what matters is the pre—"

A loud smack on the head propels Taigen forward causing your eyes to widen. You turn to Mizu who looks at him with disgust.

"I let you in and you still yap like a dog. Do you want me to kick you out again?" Mizu stands next to you with a menacing glare. You watch in amusement as Taigen frowns, rubbing the back of his head.

"Goddamn, just fucking marry this emotionally constipated motherfucker please so that I may find peace," Taigen makes a pointed look towards you. "I hate that I'm always at the receiving end of your punches when Y/N doesn't give you a bit of her atten—AGH!"

You let out a few giggles as you watched Mizu try and kick him away from where the two of you were standing. The poor man cowers behind Akemi who elbows him off her figure as she tries to browse through you and Mizu's shared Netflix account.

Your eyes glance toward Mizu who grumbles under her breath before turning towards you.

"Never let him in our dorm ever again please." Mizu deadpans prompting soft laughs from your lips. You then watch as Mizu walks toward you, eyes squinting at the side of your temple before grabbing your face with one hand—cheeks smushed.

"Mijuuuu," You whine as she tilts your head to the side. You notice her gaze on where Taigen kissed you. Your eyebrows furrowed as Mizu reached you with the sleeve of her hoodie pulled over her fingers. She then makes harsh wiping movements on your temple causing you to groan.

"Ow." You sob playfully as she finishes her ministrations. Mizu then turns your head towards her, the corners of her lips slightly upturned as she squishes your face within her grasp.

"Cute." She mumbles before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. Your heart thumps against your chest—eyes wide as a deep flush rises to your ears. Whether Mizu noticed it or not, she only pulled away and walked over to where Akemi and Taigen were—both too busy fighting each other for the remote (Akemi wants horror but Taigen insists on a Ryan Gosling marathon).

You stand still in the hallway, breath hitching as you try to calm yourself down.

Unfair.

There's a nagging thought at the back of your head that you think that you might've been a little bit too lenient with Mizu.

Your friendship and current situation as roommates didn't start off in a good footing. Having met Ringo and Mizu during freshman orientation, you had no choice but to stick close to them due to the unfamiliar environment. Ringo welcomed you with open arms while Mizu didn't care if you joined or not. Apparently, she didn't really care about Ringo or you.

It was safe to say that your first impression of your roommate with her ever-perpetual stone-cold glare had not been the best. After all, she had ignored you most of the time and tended to stray away from your group of three.

It was during that time that she had issues with her current roommate who always tried to bring people in as a one-night stand that the two of you decided on common ground.

You were out that night, going on a quick walk break from midterms when you saw Mizu complaining at the front desk. Still considering her your friend albeit a bit hesitant due to her off-putting nature, you hear Mizu complain to the landlord. You overheard her issues with her roommate and decided to offer your space up as your previous roommate had shifted courses, was transferred to a farther building, and therefore had to move to a closer dormitory. She seemed awkward but grateful enough to accept your offer.

Then things are where they are now. After knowing and living with each other for at least 2 years now, your closeness with Mizu didn't really bother you. It was nice being comfortable enough to just be authentic in front of somebody without the fear of getting judged. Mizu tends to be quite direct with her words and doesn't like to bluff around. That's what you kind of love and hate about her.

Love because she's upfront—what you see is what you get. She gives you thoughtful advice, the most rational between the two of you, mature and level headed enough to tell you the truth when nobody else would. Hate because sometimes she's too direct. Direct about your mistakes and wrongdoings but also direct about what she feels.

Like this instance.

"Mizu?" Your feet cladded socks thump loudly against the wooden floor, waddling your way toward your roommate who is busy mopping the living room.

"Yeah?" She calls out, hair tied in her usual bun as she continues to clean. She hears you enter the area, turning towards you with her hand outstretched. "Careful. Floor's wet."

"Yeah, yeah." You grab her hand, watching as she puts the mop away to the side. Finally having her undivided attention, you swing your hands back and forth as you come to say what you went for in the first place. "So y'know how Akemi got her internship at that company she really worked hard for?"

"Mmh."

"Then she was offered like a position right?"

"Mmh."

"So like, as a reward for her great performance, she got tickets for us to watch Laufey next week."

Mizu's eyebrows raised in recognition. "Really?"

You nod your head with enthusiasm, smile brimming from ear to ear. Mizu's eyes softened as she lets you continue.

"So I was wondering," You bite your bottom lip as your hand shifts to wrap around her index finger—still swaying it back and forth. "Can you help me find an outfit, please?"

Mizu hums as you peer at her with an excited grin. The raven-haired woman glances at her unfinished work before sighing.

"I suppose cleaning can wait." She responds before getting pulled in a hug.

"Thank you! Thank you!" You make careful tiptoes around her work as you walk back to your room.

It takes Mizu about 7 minutes to finally reach your room with a soft knock on your door. You tell her to come in as she gently opens the door to walk inside.

"Options?" Mizu sighs in relief as she plops down on the bed. You tell her your options and Mizu nods for you to try them on.

It takes a while for both of you to decide—eventually having to stick with two dresses. Finally trying the last dress on, you twirl in front of the mirror, examining the way you look before meeting Mizu's eyes on the reflection.

"That's the one," Mizu says with a soft tone. There's something about the way she eyes you up and down with a gentle look in her eyes paired with the soft tone of her deep voice. You pause, turning around to see her on the edge of your bed, arms resting on her knees—hands interlocked with her body leaned forward. Those hues of blue peer up at you with half-lidded eyes. Your cheeks heat up.

She breathes a heavy breath before motioning for you to come over with a come hither motion of her fingers. "C'mere."

You make slow steps toward her form, a couple of inches away from each other. You look down at her as she eyes you up, an unreadable look on her face before she suddenly stands up from her seat. Suddenly you're reminded of Mizu's height, albeit only a couple of inches taller than you, you still had to crane your neck at a distance as close as you were now. Suddenly the air seemed thick and constricting.

There's a sudden tension filling the air as the two of you only look into each other's eyes. You find yourself unable to blink as you admire her features. A mix of handsome and pretty—a face you've seen countless times and yet still be in awe of.

Just as the moment had started, Mizu suddenly ends it with a flick on your forehead causing you to blink.

"Hey!" You whine at the sudden gesture, hands reaching up to touch the spot she flicked at. Mizu smirks, chuckling.

"You blinked, I won."

You scoff at her. "Unfair."

She then fixes the fabric of your dress, making sure that the pleats and the flow is positioned nicely. Then the next few words stun you.

"You look really beautiful, Y/N." She says with such a genuine tone that it leaves you speechless. Seeing your reaction she lets out a few laughs then pinches your cheek. You let out a chuckle at the sound of her laughter.

"Favorite Laufey song?" You tilt your head in curiosity as you look up at her with a smile. Mizu softly blinks with a gentle smile.

"Serendipity."

Your hands slam against the wooden surface of the desk inside the library's discussion room. Three pairs of eyes—one filled with curiosity, one with indifference, and one with annoyance. You breathe heavily as you lock eyes with each one.

"I think I like Mizu."

Suddenly Taigen stands up from his seat and applauds you—Ringo, ever the sweetheart he is, smiles at you and waves his arms for a little celebration dance.

"Congratulations, Sherlock," Taigen smiles sarcastically. "If I had to watch the two of you in an eternal battle of who's the most oblivious, I would already have a degree in Bachelor of No Communication, Major in being a pussy and a minor in having mommy issues."

Akemi gives him a disgusted glare. "Can you shut the fuck up or is being a yapper your honest profession?"

"Alright," Taigen raises his hands. "Chill."

Akemi rolls her eyes before looking at you with her lips upturned. "Happy that you're finally realizing it, hun."

You groan as run your palms over your face. "That's the problem!"

"Why's that a problem?" Ringo asks innocently. You pull yours hands down with a huff.

"It's Mizu."

"So?" Akemi raises an eyebrow.

"Mizu's my best friend," You whine. "I can't risk it when I don't know if she feels the same."

"Be fucking for real right now." Akemi deadpans as she crosses her arms over her chest. "The damn woman looks at you as if you've just given her the stars and the moon. Y'know know how much I envy that?"

Taigen nudges Akemi beside him with a pout. Akemi glances at him with a sigh. "I was just making a point. You'd have to be dumb stupid to not notice anything at all, Y/N."

You purse your lips as you sheepishly look at Akemi like a child being punished.

"You did, didn't you?" Akemi squints her eyes with a smile. "Precisely why I favor you over that emotional catastrophe of a woman. I suggest taking the chance. It's not every day that you find someone that's a complete fit for you."

Akemi gives you a soft smile. You purse your lips as Taigen gives you a thumbs up.

"You can do it, Y/N." Ringo smiles at you from his seat. "If there's anything I know about Mizu, it's that she cares for you a lot more than you think."

You nod, encouraged by your friends' advice and reassurance. While Mizu's someone you didn't want to lose, you'd rather take the risk on giving her the love she deserves rather than keeping it buried within you.

Finally, your resolve is built and strengthened. It's just Mizu, it should be alright.

To put things simply, it had been 3 weeks since your talk with Taigen, Akemi, and Ringo.

The three have tried their very best to allow you to confess but somehow Mizu always has something to do or something keeps ruining the moment. Confessing in a cafe? Suddenly a random NPC interrupts. In the library? Librarian follows you everywhere with that judgmental gaze of hers after your previous altercation. Campus garden? Mizu's getting called for org duties. Your own dorm? Mizu's asleep.

You're at your wit's ends and while you can tell that all of this isnt intentionally done, you can still feel the frustration.

It's this night where you reach your final straw.

You had just gotten home after a day of requirements, finals, and activities. Mizu's schedule was moved a bit earlier causing the two of you to be quite busy due to the gap in the dates for your finals. When you're free, Mizu's taking an exam. When Mizu's got nothing to do, you're working your ass off in the library.

The finals season has completely ended and you're walking home with a fleeting mind and relieved sigh.

As you make the turn toward your dormitory, you notice a familiar head of black crouched over the sidewalk. Your eyebrows furrowed as you see Mizu busy with whatever caught her attention. Just as you reach at least a meter away from her, you see a fluffy white cat perk its head behind Mizu's figure, blue eyes sparkling with curiosity as it mews at your figure.

"Huh?" You hear Mizu hum before turning to face you. A look recognition passes her eyes. "Oh. You're home."

You fall silent as you continue to watch her pet the cat. You hear its purrs as it leans its head to Mizu's touch.

"I cooked hotpot upstairs," Mizu says, eyes still looking at you. Her hair is down, only pinned back by her glasses worn over her head. That little frail bang escapes with ease from it as she looks down to see the cat on its back, paws demanding a belly rub. She's wearing the black sweater you gave her with its sleeves rolled up to her arms.

Fuck. Why does she look so—

"I can tell you're spent," Mizu softly smiles at you. There's a slight breeze that gently ruffles her hair. "You did so well, Bonnie."

Then it's as if something snapped within you and there's nothing that could stop you from unleashing the pent up frustration of not getting a moment with her.

"Oh my god," Your gaze is unwavering as you stare at her figure. She raises an eyebrow at your response. "I'm so fucking in love with you."

Mizu stops her ministrations with the cat, figure tensing as the light breeze of the wind fills in the void. Your heart thumps as you breathe heavily, watching any sort of reaction for her shocked face.

Then it is as if you could hear a pin drop then a change in the atmosphere. Mizu is flushed deep red, eyes blinking as she stares at you with mouth agape.

Your eyebrows raise in amusement.

"Huh?"

"I love you." You repeat taking a step closer to her crouched form. She furrows her eyebrows, blush spreading up to her ears. Oh?

"I-I don't—"

You grin as you crouch in front of her, eyes trained on her shy features. "I said I love you."

"Y/N." Mizu grumbles as she tries to glare at you.

"What?" You shrug, smile brimming from ear to ear. The emotions on her face are clear as she stammers and stutters in front of you.

"That's not fair." She grits her teeth.

"What's not fair?" You tilt your head in amusement.

"I wanted to say it first." She mumbles as she looks down at the cat purring between the two of you.

You let out a soft laugh at her whining.

"Well, I'll pretend I didn't say anything and that I just walked back from school," Mizu eyes you in confusion as you stand back up and run a few meters away from her—back from where you previously stood. You clear your throat as you straightened yourself up. "Oh my god! Finals is so hard, if only there's a hot tall masculine woman to declare their love for me."

You end with a dramatic touch of the back of your hand against your forehead. Mizu chuckles, shaking her head before standing to her full height. She reaches you with ease, lips turned to a smile as her hands make their way to cup your face.

"You're an idiot," She grumbles with affection before pulling you in a kiss. There's no time wasted as you kiss back, clutching the fabric of her sweater as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss.

You squeak as you feel her tongue intertwine with yours. You feel yourself get lightheaded, melting in her touch as your arms wrap around her neck while hers takes hold of your waist. She pulls you closer with no distance left to break you apart. You whine as you feel her bite on your bottom lip, gently pulling it before pulling away. Heavy breaths are what fills the space between your bodies, eyes still trained on swollen red lips while want and need courses through your veins.

She lets out a grunt as she dives to taste more of you, pecking your lips once, twice—thrice before finally breaking off.

There's a moment of silence before hushed giggles errupted between the two of you—Mizu swaying your bodies as you both bask in each other's presence.

Hushed whispers, sweet nothings, wide smiles, and stolen kisses are all that's seen between two idiots in love. Before you can further enjoy your moment with Mizu, a loud meow interrupts your moment. The two of you look down at the cat licking its paw as it stares up at you both.

It swishes its tail back and forth, tilting its head before stretching. You and Mizu look at each other with a smile.

"You up for another roommate? Might be severely in love with you too." You tease as the cat leans its body against Mizu. Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. You giggle.

"Oh, shut up."

a/n:

you: *sees mizu w a cat* marry me

mizu: ?

projecting ken tendencies in taigen mb. akemi is a mood tbh.

#arthenaa #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #the blue eyed samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #Spotify

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taintandviolent · 7 months

Text

feed my Frankenstein ; Frankenkyle x reader

summary: stripper!reader decides to dress up like a zombie for Halloween, and when the girls bring Kyle to the strip club…. He makes the decision for himself that he’s going to be with his kind. w a r n i n g s: 5k words! stripper!reader, female reader, cunnilingus, rough sex, violence, mentions of blood, biting, graphic descriptions. kyle being a big, horny zombie who doesn't understand his strength. a/n: [🎃 part of lizzie's halloween fics! 🎃] probably some errors, whoops. I didn't want to label this as dead dove don't eat, but Kyle literally tries to eat reader, so be warned, I guess??? also my ending is very... cliff-hangery. don't come for me, this fic took on a life of its own very quickly. thank you for reading if you did!!! full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

You dab a stippling sponge against your neck, hiding an edge with a speckle of grey makeup. You’d put a lot of effort into your silly little zombie look - but it was Halloween after all, and hardly any of the other girls had dressed up. Sure, they’d started out in low-effort costumes of Dorothy Gale and Snow White, but as soon as those came off, they were just their normal selves again. You… not so much. You went the extra mile. You’d spent hours applying prosthetics on your limbs, and painting your flesh to mimic the rotting corpses seen in cult classic horror films. Specks of blood around your perfectly lined lips, uneven skin, stitches from your neck down the front of your body.

It wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, you knew. Some of them would lose their boners at the sight. It was time for your first shift. The club was rowdy, you heard it from behind the door. You lean against it, gulp down the last of your water, and fluff your hair before spinning on your red, patent leather heels and pulling open the door.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Madison…” Zoe confesses, nervously. She holds onto Kyle’s arm tightly, guiding him around a booth like an elderly man. He was already entranced by the vibrant lights that swept back and forth in shades of orange and green. It reminded him of his show. Colours….

“Oh, please.” With a roll of her eyes, Madison flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “This is the best place to put a braindead man… look, they’re everywhere.”

Men cluster around the stage, watching hungrily as women take their clothes off, gyrating their hips close enough to their faces that they could reach out and take bites out of their full asses. The bouncer in the corner makes sure that doesn’t happen, though.

Over the PA, a loud voice says: “Alright! Put your hands together for our resident nerdy girl, our very own reanimated sexpot…”

As though it was on hinges, Kyle’s head swings heavily to face the stage. H

“Look, he’s already fitting in.” Madison nips.

You prance forward, reaching for the pole in the centre of the stage. Men holler your name, the few regulars that came every night you were working. You’d earned yourself a reputation as the nerdy girl because of your penchant for dressing up on the themed nights. Your hips roll to the beat of the song, coming daringly close to the hands that hold dollar bills. When they don’t get the chance to slip them into your outfit, they flutter at your feet, decorating the stage. You undo the tie of your shirt, revealing white bikini with gratuitous blood spatter. You’d done that yourself.

You wrap one leg around the pole, latching onto it. As it spins, you reach behind your back, undoing the tie of your top. Your breasts fall free, nipples hardening in the air conditioning. You hold the bra out proudly, smiling as the hoots and cheers fill the room.

“C’mon,” she starts, taking hold of Kyle’s thick wrist. His skin is always slightly cooler than everyone else’s. She remembers how cold the inside of his mouth was when they first — She blinks away the thoughts, actually disgusted by the idea. After all, she’d never really wanted to fuck a dead guy…

“Hey!” “Watch it, sweetheart!” “Get outta’ the way, you’re blockin’ the view, toots!”

Madison ignores the heckling, and continues to the front, pressing her bony hips against the lip of the stage.

“Hey! Dead bitch!”

Her voice is loud enough that it carries over the music, and you furrow your brow. She wasn’t wrong, but the bitch part seemed unnecessary. Still, you make your way over to the cluster of them, and bend at the waist to hear her.

“Yeah - what?” You ask, still swaying to the song.

“This is our little zombie — ”

“His name is Kyle,” The other girl interrupts pointedly. Madison throws a look towards the other girl, who nods with a fake smile. Truly, she didn’t care what you called him. As long as she didn't have to deal with him, she was happy.

“Kyle — and he needs a babysitter. He’s a little…” she makes a face, stretching her mouth out in a sneer. You knit your brows together again, unsure what that means.

Kyle, you think to yourself. What a frat boy name. In fact, he looks like a frat boy with really really good makeup. Full head of curly blonde hair, dark eyes, strong but soft features… looks like he can absolutely devour a keg.

He’s wearing an open black shirt and jeans, and beneath the black shirt, you can see raised flesh, scars like he was put back together. Funny that you’d chosen to do a dance number to Feed my Frankenstein.

“Do your job and keep him entertained, okay?” She pulls the peeking string of your thong far enough out to freely press a one hundred dollar bill against your hip and lets go. It snaps back against your skin, hard enough to sting. You wince.

Before you have time to protest, the girls are walking back towards the entrance without their little zombie in tow. One of them casts a woeful glance over her shoulder, and you’re left wondering why if she cares so much, why was she still walking away? You fill your lungs with air, exhale and lower yourself down onto your haunches.

“Hey baby,” you coo, wrapping a single blonde curl around your index finger. It’s angel-soft, and bounces back as you let go, straightening up. He seems to melt towards your touch, starved for it. “I like your costume.”

He watches as your ample cleavage sways with the gentle motion of your body. He repeats the word back to you, laboriously. “Cos…tume….”

“That’s right,” you say, running your hands over your thighs as you stand upright. The long heels of the shoes elongate your legs, making you tower over the club’s patrons. “I like it, it’s cute.”

Kyle watches wordlessly as your hands glide over your body, carefully skipping over the stitches at your knees, along your stomach, and finally up to the long stitch around your neck, which to him is holding your head on. Kyle’s eyes blink repeatedly with recognition.

You dip down, reaching for his hand. The crowd woooo’s as you hand him the string of your skirt. He grips it hard before looking at it deeply. You take one step back, flashing a coy expression to the men in the front row. Another step, and the tie begins to slip through the bow, unravelling. Another step and the skirt falls to your feet. A cacophony of approval fills your ears.

You’re in nothing but the blood-spattered bikini bottoms now, and you sink to your knees again, flashing Kyle a bright smile. He blinks, your skirt awkwardly hanging from his hand by the string.

On all fours, you crawl towards him, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Dollar bills shower the stage, and when you slide your knees out to the sides, allowing men a delicious view of your backside, someone tucks another $100 in your bikini.

Kyle is watching you, but his hands drop to his groin where he makes a fist, and rubs it awkwardly over his now-throbbing erection. You immediately notice this, and your eyes widen. That’s a sure fire way to get kicked out, and for whatever reason, you’ve clocked him as too innocent to let that happen. There’s either a) something wrong with him, or b) he’s really committed to acting like a clueless, braindead boy. Both options require action.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur, guiding him to the side of the stage. There’s an empty chair, and with a heel, you push him back into it. Sit. Stay. He does. Good boy.

He never takes his eyes off you though, and every time you’re looking at him, his jaw hangs slack, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. He keeps trying to get up, and you have to slowly shake your head at him, teasingly. He seems to understand that gesture, and stays put.

As you dance, you find yourself watching him, too. Inexplicably drawn to him, for whatever reason. You don’t usually take guys to the back, but $100 is a pretty good tip. Besides, you didn’t want to run into that girl again, and especially not angry.

As your routine comes to an end, Kyle gets up out of his chair, knocking into the edge of the stage. A few guys turn their heads, trying to figure out what this guy’s deal is. You’re too busy picking up your tips, and gathering your clothes to notice. With arms full, you race to the back, throw on a t-shirt and bolt back to the front, praying that Kyle is still where you left him.

He is. He may be trying to climb up on the stage, head craning in the direction of where you exited, but he's still there. You heave a relieved sigh, and saunter up to him, softening your expression.

“Hi, Kyle…” you murmur sweetly. You slip your arm underneath his, linking it with yours and softly pulling him down into a normal standing position again. There’s a small moment of processing and trust before he looks at you and smiles very weakly.

Destinee is next, and while she’s a nice girl, you absolutely loathe her taste in lighting. You enjoy a good rave, sure, but this is like the Electric Daisy Carnival in a much, much smaller space.

You learn very quickly that Kyle doesn’t like it either. At all. In fact, he might dislike it more than you. As soon as the beat is thumping and the bright red and orange lights are washing over the establishment, Kyle wrenches away from you, covering his ears. A low groan starts in his throat, bubbling up through his lips until he’s practically screaming.

“Shhh, shh it’s okay!” You try desperately to console him, but he can’t seem to hear you. Glancing nervously at the guests around you who are starting to take notice of him now, you smile apologetically. “Kyle, it’s okay!”

There’s only one solution - the private dance rooms. They’re quiet, secluded and a perfect spot to store a stressed out zombie boy for a few hours. You looked towards the spiral staircase that led upstairs, and hesitated. You were a dancer who rarely used the private rooms. You had been hard pressed to avoid being alone with any man, especially one that had paid you and felt entitled to whatever he wanted to take. Kyle, however, didn’t seem like the type to… well, do that. Or even articulate that he wanted to do that — did he even understand that you’d been paid to babysit him? Likely not.

You force his hand down as gently as possible, interlacing your fingers with his. “Kyle,” you say. “Kyle, look at me.”

His head moves sluggishly, and his eyes gradually follow. He looks at you with big, black eyes, the surrounding skin darkened and mottled. In the changing lights, he looks so lost, and your heart throbs desperately. Shucking the worries of whispers aside, you lead him through the club towards the wrought iron staircase.

“Hey Lance,” you say. “Private room open?”

“They sure are…” he replies with a large grin, his heavy accent coming through. Lance was one of the bouncers and rotated positions, so you had gotten semi-close with him. He enjoyed your presence and penchant for the strange. “Last door on da’ left.”

With Kyle in tow, you head down the long, red hallway. Each of the doors were painted black, with gold trim. Kyle’s gaze travels from each door, picking up on the various sounds that seeped from behind them.

“Okay…” You say, your voice a touch softer than before as you push open the last door, praying that it’s been cleaned adequately. You cock your head to the side, urging him inside. His concerned eyes swept from you to the door and back to you before he finally decided that it was safe enough for him to enter. “Look, no strobe lights. No loud music. Just you and me.”

“You… and me….” He grumbles. The door clicks shut behind you. His words are painfully slow and slurred, but you can’t help be charmed by the innocence of them. “You…. You’re…. l-like me.”

“That’s right, baby… I’m like you.” In a quiet, joking whisper, you say: “Raaaaauuuuggghhhhhh…. Brains.”

Kyle seems to like this. The tiniest of smiles forms on his mouth. His chest heaves, and without warning, he lunges for you. His strong arms wrap around you in a steely grip that at first terrifies you; your arms are pinned at your sides, locked into place. His tongue slips over your collarbone, wet and cool like he’s just finished eating ice cream. It slips over your neck, along your jawline, and up behind your ear. He’s licking you, devouring you with such pressure that he has to have eaten some of the makeup by this point. You wince as he nips at your ear lobe, his teeth grinding down on the flesh. With some inhuman gurgle, he descends, covering your chest in his saliva.

You were used to men being hungry for you, acting like rabid dogs the second that they caught a glimpse of your plump tits or your juicy ass. It was part of the gig, came with the territory. But not this. This guy was on something. Had to be. Without warning, he yanks your cropped shirt up, and his jaws clamp down on the meat of your exposed breast. You yelp, pushing him off. He looks hurt or confused, or maybe both. Immediately, you scramble, feeling like you’ve just taken candy from a child.

“Hey no.. it’s okay. You can bite me… I like being bit. But not too hard, honey… that hurt.”

He doesn’t understand. Or he doesn’t look like he understands. His brows knit together sadly, while the dark, ink pools he has for eyes glaze over.

“….biiiiiiiiiiiiiite….” He says.

“Softly,” you finished, with your cutest zombie voice. “Biiiiite soft…ly….”

He cranes forward, mouth finding your flesh again. His teeth continue to graze your skin, slightly softer than before though, so maybe he does understand. His tongue lolls out sloppily to taste every inch. He nears the jumbled up mess of liquid latex on your elbow, and you expect him to stop, or skip over it — but he doesn’t. He feels uneven, soft flesh and his front teeth clamp down on it with a guttural sound. He rears his head back far enough for the liquid latex to streeeetch, and snap.

This gorgeous, blonde boy has a chunk of faux flesh hanging from between his teeth. Fake blood dots his pale lips, and he’s looking at you with the most confused expression you’ve ever seen on a man. It’s a grisly sight, really, but it fits the theme of the night. He’s committed to the zombie act, you’ll give him that.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, spit that out…” You reach up, rubbing the fake blood off his bottom lip. flatten your slender fingers on his broad chest, skin smooth like stone except for the deep scars. These are really good prosthetics. You can’t even see the seam. Because there aren’t any…

Like a dog, he drops the wrinkly skin-toned mass from his mouth and frowns. He looks genuinely disappointed, like he expected blood and guts. “B-bad… th-that… didn’t taste….. gooood…” he stammers. "Hun..gry…..”

For a moment, you’re frozen. Your realization clicks into place painfully slowly, slower than his brain seems to move. He’s really too good at the whole zombie act, and a panicked thought writhes its way into your mind, penetrating it the way that a tissue absorbs blood. Just sucks it in, becomes a part of it. No, no way.

Heavily masking the nerves in your voice, you clear your throat and reach for his shoulder. You stroke the smooth roundness of it, raking your nails against his skin. “You want something that tastes good, baby?”

That ‘something good' is your cunt. You’ll let him eat you out so you can think. You assume he’ll eat you out like most men do — boringly — and you can process the realisation that this poor creature in front of you is actually really badly scarred, and possibly, a victim of head trauma, or something. Because there’s no way you’re meeting an actual zombie. Even on Halloween in New Orleans. That’s insane. So, you’re going to let him eat you out while you sort this out in your mind.

That was the plan, anyway.

Except the second you sink into the vinyl chair, he’s on his knees, looking at your pretty cunt with hungry eyes and the visual wipes your brain clean. It was like you put a plate of food in front of a starving man. His mouth opens. You untie both sides of your underwear, letting them fall to the floor. His eyes drop heavily, watching every move.

At first, his tongue juts out, curiously tasting what you’ve put in front of him. It presses between your folds, pauses, before wiggling around. Your eyelids flutter; you were ready to zone out, but Kyle’s inexperience, his curiosity feels so good.

“Good,” he growls, the word vibrating your cunt. His cool breath washes over your core, sending a chill up your spine. He delves deeper, tasting more of you.

His tongue flicks at your clit, flipping the swollen bundle of nerves mercilessly. Your whole body is trembling, and you feel the first of your orgasms rushing towards your centre. Carefully, not wanting to scare him, you grip his angel curls and ride his mouth slightly. Shit. Almost instantly, the throbbing starts and you make a mess of his poor boy’s face, squirting over his lips and chin.

“You like that?” You ask, through uneven pants. The first of the night always feels sooo good.

He nods heavily on your cunt, still lapping up the juices that leak from your slick hole. Your legs start to quiver and a fire burns deep within your cunt. You try to pat his shoulders, wordlessly telling him to stop. His tongue delves in, and he freezes.

“Kyle?” You ask nervously. Unconsciously, you clench around his tongue. He snaps to life, like someone flipped a switch in his brain. His strong arms wrap around the front of your thighs, tightly. Very tightly. He starts to pull you off the chair, lifting you up into his arms. Your ass cheeks are pressed against his chest and the back of your head is on the chair’s cushion now. He’s holding you tightly, upside down, still swallowing mouthfuls of your sopping wet cunt. He can’t seem to hear your desperate, pleading cries to stop.

You blink back tears, your vision throbs. You don’t know if it’s because the blood is very obviously rushing to your head, or because you’re coming again so quickly, but he’s drilling his tongue into your cunt like there’s a cream centre. If there is, he’s found it.

A scream fills your lungs and your body lunges upwards, trying to find leverage — something, anything to hold onto. She clenches again, pulsating around his cold, slippery tongue. Kyle’s practically drinking you with each clench. The overstimulation is crippling, and you can’t help but scream out.

“KYLE! STOP!”

At the shrill sound, he immediately drops you and your body hits the ground with a heavy thud. Your ass aches a little from the fall, but it’s nothing that’s going to ruin the night.

He’s frowning at you, his lips and chin glazed with your cum.

“S-sorry…” he grumbles. “Sorry. Bad.”

“No, no… not bad. Accident. Accident. Kyle?”

You call his name and he’s looking at you with those big, hopeful, dark eyes of his. You can tell — he isn’t sure if you’re going to scold him, or praise him and the uncertainty terrifies him. You get to your knees, crawling towards the sofa. Once you’re up on it, you pat the spot next to you three times.

“Can I see?” You gesture to your own body, tracing the remaining prosthetics with a single finger before pointing to him. He looks down, his bottom lip jutting out. He nods after a few seconds and lumbers over to you, sitting down heavily.

Your fingers dance over his skin. He was literally pieced back together. His head, his arms, his legs, the lower half of his torso… he was sewn back together like Frankenstein. Different parts connected as one. You’re sitting next to an actual zombie.

And then it dawns on you. Those girls. You’d seen them before. You knew their faces. They lived in the massive mansion on Jackson Avenue. They were witches. Witches were a dime a dozen in New Orleans — in fact, it was weirder if you didn’t practice some kind of craft. But zombies… you’d only ever heard stories. You’d never seen one, let alone be eaten out by one.

You stroke Kyle’s broad chest. For being a zombie, he’s surprisingly soft. You’d always imagined them as dried out, crusty creatures, but he only had a few patches of dry skin. In fact, he had more patches where you could see dark blue pooling underneath his skin, where blood had settled after death. He is cold however, and that’s the most jarring part.

You ease him back on the leather sofa, making sure his head goes down softly onto the arm rest.

“It’s okay, Kyle…. I like your body.”

“Costume….” He says. You shake your head.

“Body. Body.”

His hips give the tiniest little buck, and it slips between your ass cheeks. He whimpers, trying to get a visual of what he’s feeling. Gradually, his thrusts increase in pressure, and you adjust for your own pleasure.

When you adjust, forcing his cock to slide in between your cunt instead, he feels the slick warmth, and his feral nature returns, stronger than before. His thrusts pick up, and he seems to realise that you are a living thing, with pulsing blood and a throbbing heartbeat. Something else is throbbing again, too.

You whine and match his thrusts, letting your head loll back.

Kyle has a different idea, and before you can stop him, he has your forearm in his mouth, teeth clamped down on the soft, warm flesh. It only takes a few seconds for you to feel the stinging ache consuming your arm. It hurts… bad. The muscles in your fingers contract, twitching limply. He aggressively shakes his head, and your heart drops. The terror sets in, and you’re suddenly running cold.

“Kyle, no- OW! KYLE!”

He shakes his head again, biting down harder and digging his the ridges of his teeth deeper into your skin. You don’t necessarily feel the flesh tear, somewhere near the top, but you certainly feel the warm flow of blood that drips down your arm, dribbling onto his chest. Your pupils dilate. The blood keeps flowing, and you feel him start to rear his head back. Something pulls back with him. The ache is replaced by a searing burn, and you realise that if he pulls back any further, he’s going to pull off skin. You’re panicking now, and don’t know what else to do but try again. This time though, you roar at him, bringing back your zombie voice. It’s not so cute this time. “Raaaaaaaaauhhhhhh, KYLE. KYLE STOP. STOP!”

You try to rip your arm away from his mouth, while pushing his head. Thankfully, his powerful jaw goes slack and your arm slides out, strings of spit stretching from his lips. Your blood is smeared across his chin and bottom lip, and collects in the corners of his mouth.

With your vision bouncing thanks to Kyle’s furious thrusting, you look at your arm, watching the bright crimson well up in the indentations of the bite mark. Amidst the rest of your makeup, the bite doesn’t look out of place. You hold your arm out further, trying to come up with a story for this one. Maybe the makeup had stained in an absolutely mind-blowing way. And you had a reaction to it, hence the bizarre swelling and scabbing. That sounds good, sounds believable.

“Want… more…” He says, and your stomach drops, praying that he doesn’t mean more flesh. You’re not sure you can handle another one. Mid-thrust, Kyle’s thick, veiny cock angles just right and slips into your cunt. She swallows him easily, still wet from being eaten — a mixture of cum and Kyle’s viscid, slimy saliva. You plant both hands on his chest, letting out a breathy, melodic moan. He feels good enough to make you forget about the bite, and as you begin to ride him, it seems that he forgets too.

You’re taking control, grinding on top of him, using his cock like your own personal toy. It’s hitting every spot you want it to, pressing into your walls with its girth, and you can’t help but whine about it. Pausing to smear your blood across Kyle’s chest with your middle finger, you leave deep, red streaks across pale skin. You shouldn't find that hot, but you do.

Kyle wraps both hands around your waist, pulling you down onto his cock relentlessly, each thrust feeling harder than the last. You lean forward, pressing your tits against his almost bare chest, and allowing him to take control, thrusting his cock up into you. The slightly bent positioning of his cock, head grinding against your spongy insides is enough to make you cum right then. You don’t though, holding back, clenching your pussy as tight as you can.

“You like it, Kyle?” You ask, through shaky pants. “You like that?”

Kyle nods, heavily, his darkened eyes watching the way that your body quivers on top of him, wordlessly marvelling at the way your thigh muscles contract and shake on top of him every time he slips out, and buries himself inside your dripping pussy again. He loves how it feels, even if he can’t articulate it the way he wants to, the sensations are everything he wants. Everything.

He grips you harder, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down, repeating this violent display of strength over and over again. Your cunt shudders, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer. Kyle feels it first, and the sudden tightness has him growling, snarling and pushing his length into you as deep as he can. Kyle digs his heels into the sofa, lifting his legs. You feel the pressure against your cervix as he bottoms out, and press against his cock, forcing his cock deeper into you, until you feel the ache. You ride out the waves of your own orgasm, feeling his as it comes in thick, sticky ropes.

There’s a gentle knock at the door, and you quickly get to your feet, pulling your shirt over your head. You scramble, trying to find the bikini bottoms and once they’re tied, you throw open the door. It’s Lance, who is looking very concerned. Your legs are pressed tightly together, in fear that Kyle’s load is going to start dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

“Miss Y/N. The club is closing… are you alright in there?”

Closing? What? It was bareley eleven when you brought him into the room. The seedy, slick realisation that you’d been fucking this zombie for almost four hours made your cheeks blossom with heat. You immediately tuck your bitten arm behind the door, flashing Lance a charming smile.

“Yes! Fine! Just uh, finishing up a dance. Hey - Lance… did two girls ever come back, asking for this blonde guy in here?”

He pauses, thinking. After a few moments, he shakes his head and apologises.

Okay, guess he’s coming home with me, then. “Thank you, Lance. I’ll be down in just a second.”

You shut the door and lean against it, looking at the zombie on the sofa. He’s staring up at the ceiling, a small smile on his face. “Kyle, do you live on Jackson Street? Where do you live?”

He sits up abruptly, turning his head to face you. “Uhm…” He murmurs. “Big…… white.”

“Big white house?” You repeat, making a house shape with your hands. He nods.

“You wanna’ go home?”

After throwing on a pair of dolphin shorts, collecting your duffel bag and giving Lance a generous tip, you have Kyle in tow, fingers laced tightly with his. Jackson Street was maybe a twenty minute walk, something you both could handle.

Despite it going on 3 AM, the streets were still filled with partiers, people in masks, and drinks in their hands. You and Kyle blend in as you walk, heading down the busy roads. Once you arrived at the Mansion, the gates were open, a fine mist spilling into the sprawling yard.

The woman who answers the door is beautiful, graceful and composed. She wears all black, her honey blonde hair cascading graceful over her shoulders.

“Good Evening,” she says.

“Good Evening. Um.. this is going to sound strange, even for Halloween, but, um…” You want to continue. Desperately, but for some reason, you already know the answer. He does belong here. As though she’d said it to you, plain as day, he belonged here, this is where he stayed.

Zoe and Madison must’ve forgotten him.

Your brows furrow, indignantly. How could they?

Cordelia’s plump lips flatten into a knowing smile. You swallow, suddenly feeling uneasy. You scratch at the liquid latex on your neck, fiddling uncomfortably with one of the edges of the prosthetic.

“Well, Kyle… here you go. Go with…?”

“Cordelia.”

“Cordelia. Go with Cordelia, you’re home now.”

Kyle seems somewhat hesitant, but when Cordelia holds out a hand, he obeys and lumbers inside, looking over his shoulder at you one last time.

“Thank you for bringing him home,” she says, softly. “Would you like to come inside?”

You consider that for a second. Deep within the wetness of your bones, and the warmth of your blood, you feel like you should. There’s something extremely comforting about this place, but… “No, no thank you. I should be getting home. It’s Halloween. Weird things happen on Halloween.”

She smiles again. “That’s quite a bite you have on your arm… did Kyle do that?”

“Oh, uh… yeah. He got a little excited earlier, I’m a dancer, and uh, y’know. Men.”

“I have something for that.”

You look down at your bite again, it looks nastier than before. You clear your throat, ready to reject and explain that your older sister is a nurse and she’ll help, but instead, and you’re not quite sure how that happened, you’re walking through the doors. Kyle is delighted to see you again, pausing on the grand staircase to look at you.

Cordelia’s hands end up being very, very soft.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaissweetlamb / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @petersevans / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @evanpetersfansblog / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @nova-kayne67 / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randodummy / @throwinginmythai / @hyperharlz

Ask to be added to taglist for future fics!!

#AHS Coven #Kyle Spencer #Frankenkyle #Kyle Spencer x reader #Kyle Spencer x you #Kyle Spencer x yn #ahs smut #halloween #zombies #lizzieshalloweenfics #myfics

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luviestarz · 7 months

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choi beomgyu fic recs!

✿ a night to remember — choi beomgyu - @jeontaeil-archived (beomgyu takes you out on a lovely date to his old workplace and after hours of having fun, neither of you are quite satisfied. too impatient to wait till you get back home, or to his car in the least, you don’t think twice before getting down and dirty right then and there. at the end of the day, how many people can proudly admit that they’ve fucked in a trampoline park?)

✿ airport crush | choi beomgyu NSFW - @boba-beom (while waiting 4 hours for your next flight, you see a cute guy at the airport and decide to kill some time.)

✿ a star called you | c.bg - @scintillasofbeomgyu (yn and their friends run the campus radio for which yn is the host of the evening show “dear sputnik”, where they share stories and hope to create a healing space for all students— even though many don’t listen to it. little does yn know, their biggest fan, angel313, is choi beomgyu— the boy they’ve silently had a crush on for the past four years.)

✿ nap of a star - @blue-jisungs (you’re taking a nap on your friend’s lap)

✿ sk8ter boi -> c.b - @gyusrose (you never thought in a million years to be attracted to a boy like beomgyu. His baggy clothes, scrappy shoes, long hair just wasn’t a click with your elegant dresses, tight skirts, ballet dancer- self , but somehow he managed to steal your attention.)

✿ stoner!bestfriend!beomgyu x fem!reader - @universecorp (as much as beomgyu tries to deny falling in love with you, even after he claimed you saved him from believing his whole purpose of life was to be bad luck, his heart cannot tell a lie.)

✿ honeymoon - @beomsight (thoughts about how you and bf!beomgyu are in that honeymoon phase where you’re constantly all over each other)

✿ who’s home? - @iknowyuu (reader's guardians unexpectedly come home in the middle of a cuddle session.)

✿ sweet. - @tyunlatte (beomgyu is whipped for the reader, that's it. that's the plot. just something short and sweet to make your hearts ache.)

✿ who’s that girl! - @h00nerz (after coming home from vacation to discover your boyfriend of over a year cheating on you, you find yourself to be in search of a new place to live. lucky for you, your friend’s cousin is moving across the state, leaving a room open that’s yours for the taking. the only problem? it means you would be staying with three guys.)

✿ a lost bet! - @heart2beom (you lose a bet to beomgyu and out of everything you'd think he'd ask of you -- money, to pour freezing water on yourself out in the snow, hell, you thought it'd be more likely for him to ask you to jump off a cliff and survive than telling you to take him out on a date.)

✿ strawberry kisses - @tyunlatte (when you accepted your boyfriend's sweet request to do his makeup, you weren't expecting the fiery turn that your little makeup session was going to take)

✿ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 - @sungbeam (gamer/streamer!choi beomgyu x f!reader)

✿ call you later - @heart2beom (beomgyu swears women fall at his feet and he's in fact, single by choice—what better way to prove this to you than collecting the numbers of random people on the street?)

✿ forever only you. - @mazeinthemoon (when an old friend draws your attention away from your boyfriend, he can’t help but get jealous)

✿ [🐯] i got you - @qqtxt (the best parts of beomgyu's morning always involve you)

✿ white dress - @fairyyeo (i recommend reading this!!!! pls go read its so good)

✿ photobooth. - @ev3rm0re-q (even though you and beomgyu have been together for three months, you two have yet to share a kiss. on his day off, the two of you venture outside and come across a photo booth. perhaps a few pictures might finally motivate the both of you to take action.)

✿ tokyo - choi beomgyu - @beomie3 (the neon-lit towers which surround you are mighty bright. but in his eyes, you shine brightest. the adventures of two lovers in tokyo. ~coming of age film~ vibes.)

✿ strawberry chapstick | choi beomgyu - @lluringli

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shelbgrey · 3 months

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-Cliff Booth aesthetic

#Once upon a time in Hollywood #Cliff Booth #cliff booth x reader #Brad pitt #quinton tarantino #Aesthetic #60s #Mood board #Stunt man #I love this man #Tarantio's best movie

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sevsdollette · 2 months

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Not So Sweet [Sevika x fem reader]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49324864/chapters/137713357

content warning: trigger warning for violence against the reader. if mean men in bars freak you out, read with caution. other than that, alcohol, gambling, smoking, and smut (obviously). reader eats sevika out. fingering. sorry if you just want it to be sevika doing shit to the reader, but yk the woman has needs as well.

summary: You go out with Sevika as her gambling date. It’s a calm night at the Last Drop where everything should be fun and easy. But your beauty doesn’t just attract Sevika.

chapters:

1. Relaxing Night

2. A Long Night at Work

3. A Gamble of A Night

note: tell me why every chapter title has the word night in it. i’m back @-@. so yeah it’s been a minute. hope no one is too mad at me. this one maybe a bit shorter than the others? not entirely sure. also i know this ends with like a cliff hanger, but i promise the next chapter will leave no holes in the time line. you gays will get what you want. sorry if there’s spelling mistakes i wrote most of this on my phone. it’s not like i’m an AP english student or anything (i am :/) also sorry for the format being a bit different. tumblr is pissing me the fuck off right now. i don’t care to fix the spacing between the paragraphs. i’m tired.

————————————18+————————————

The glow of the Last Drops neon sign felt a bit more familiar than before. This time, more than a drink was waiting for you inside.

It was a clear, hot night with busy streets and crowded alleys, and you were wearing a black catsuit with long sleeves and shorts that hardly covered your ass. The zipper down the front was pulled so low the clothes were practically falling off of you.

This time, when you walked up to the bouncer, past the long, impatient line, you hardly had to open your mouth before he was opening the door and letting you in. The groans and hateful stares of the people waiting felt like a crown on your head. You were still scum, sure, but for the night you were important.

On that evening, the bar wasn’t full of screaming patrons and blasting music, but slow, cool jazz. It was their calmest night where the low lamps gave off an orange-red glow on the deep wooden walls, and every shadow seemed comforting. People sat calmly at their tables, passing cards and taking shots. The ceiling hung low with the smoke of cigars and cigarettes. A sweet smell of booze wafted through the room, making any nasty smell of the people buying the drinks.

In her normal corner booth, Sevika was sitting with four men, cigarette pressed between her lips and cards in her hands. She was laughing lightly as she passed a card into the center of the table. The candle in the middle of the room illuminated her face and curved around her features. Beautiful, you thought, staring at her vibrant eyes.

As you waded through the tables of the room, she noticed you approaching, glancing over as the conversation at her table continued. Keeping an eye on you. You kept your cool, only giving a small smile back as you approached. Men of the bar kept looking up at your figure as you walked by their tables, admiring the way the leather suit curved over your hips and hugged your thighs.

The other men at the table were just as harsh and brutish as Sevika, all with scars over their faces or hands, rugged clothes, and a mean glare. They were younger than her but older than you, and they didn’t seem too friendly when you came up to the table.

One of them, with white blonde hair and a blind eye, wrinkled her nose as he looked you up and down. With a toothpick in his mouth, he questioned, “Who’s that?”

Sevika cleared her throat, looking down at her cards as she drew another from the deck. “I hired her.”

You froze, brow furrowing as your upper lip curled. Your services didn’t involve simple company at a bar. You surely didn’t want to be here if she was going to pay you for it.

She chuckled under her breath, looking up at you. “I’m kidding, doll. Sit down.” She tapped the spot on the cushion next to her.

Apprehensive, you sat beside her slowly. If this night was just going to be her being a bitch, you weren’t going to get involved. You could go back to Babettes and earn your dinner like always. You didn’t need her free food. And her expensive rum. And her perfectly rolled clove cigarettes…

The more you looked around the table, the longer you wanted to stay. You’d seen her and her men around the bar before but never noticed how nice of a night they always had. Each man was sitting comfortably around the booth with either a cigar, cigarette, or drink, lounging as they waited for the game to start. The loud music was slightly muffled, making the table almost cozy and closed off.

They were just finishing a game as you got there, a pile of coins in front of Sevika and dwindling collections by the other players. They were settling bets and getting more drinks, idle conversation as everyone got ready for another round. Sevika shuffled the deck and delt you your own hand.

You were sitting close to her, but just far enough away so you didn’t touch. A distance she would have to choose to close if she really wanted to. Yes, you liked her and wanted her attention, but you weren’t going to devote yourself to her to get it. If she really liked you, she’d take what she wanted.

And it didn’t take her long. As she was puting your cards down in front of her, she smiled and met your eyes. Her gaze drifted down your neck, chest, and down to your lap. She was close, her broad figure looming beside you enough to block your view of three of the men.

Her eyebrows raised. “You’ve got something on your neck.”

A heat hit your face as you rubbed the skin under your chin. God, you couldn’t look decent just once. “What is it?”

“Something I left for you.”

Your hands dropped and you rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck off.”

She smiled wider, shaking her head and sitting back. The tables was coming back together and everyone was picking up their cards as a waitress came around with more drinks. She had a glass for you and Sevika poured you some rum. The waitress smiled a bit too sweetly at Sevika when she said thank you, and it made you inch a bit closer to her.

You picked up your cards and sipped your drink. Rum was never your favorite, but in this setting, it felt right. Your deal wasn’t the worst, but you;d defitnety have to sit out for the round. You were trying to play your best.

At the brothel, you and your tolerable coworkers would play and gamble during slow hours all the time. Your room was the hot spot where everyone would crown around the coffee table, taking a smoke break, and having good fun. It was never that serious, everyone putting their earrings or hair clips in as prizes only to hand them back at the end of the game. But, there was a skill level that all of you developed.

And you were the best.

You all got through two games that Sevika won. She truly enjoyed it. A sly smile spread across her face as she collected everyone’s coins, only handing you a coy apology and running her hand up your though to make up for it. It didn’t matter to you. Your cards weren’t that good anyway.

Though, you liked the way she got when she was that happy. She was touchy. She would “accidentally” brush her hand over your tit, and she really liked to fiddle with that zipper that rested between your ribs. You’d push her away, saying something about how stupid she was being and how the alcohol was getting to her, and she’d give a boozy smile and turn to shuffle the cards again.

On the third game, you got a good hand. A really good hand. You kept your cool as you saw the empress and her court smiling up at your on the painted card. Every mention of a tell that your friends had mentioned to you ran through your head and you hid every sign. No one would know. You would win.

It took great thought to get through. Early on, Sevika noticed how much more focused you were, and it caused her to keep putting more money on the table. The men all had relatively bad hands except for one, but he backed out after a while, not trying to get in the middle of whatever mental battle you and Sevika were engaged in.

In the end, with the final turn of a card, you had won. With a huge pile of copper in teh middle fo the table, you whooped and bounced in your seat, grinning as you pulled all of the money towards yourself.

Sevika was angry. You could see it in the way she wouldn’t look at you adn how she stared into her empty glass. Her jaw was clamped tightly shut and she was thinking hard, still looking at the coins you’d taken from her. It wasn’t her fault. She hardly knew you, and she had expected you to be moer of an open book then your were. To be truthful, she dind’t know the half of who you were, and that was her fatal flaw.

Part of her still thougth of you as those prissy virgins she usually saw. It was hard for her to accept that she liked someone so similar to her own spiteful nature. She didn’t like it unless you two were naked, apparently.

She swallowed and shook her head. “I let you win.”

Your nose wrinkled. “Shut up.”

A fake laugh tossed itself from her lips and she held her hands in helplessness. “Just trying to be nice. If I beat you every time, you won’t enjoy it so much. There’s no way you can actually win.”

“Sevika—“ You scoffed, shaking your head at her as you wondered why she fucking bothered to say those things. “Whatever. I’m going to get a cocktail.”

She chuckled bitterly as you stood up. “Rum’s too strong?”

You held your middle finger up behind you as you stomped to the bar. Sevika muttered something else under her breath that you didn’t want to hear. The lively jazz that filled hte bar felt so suffocating now as you walked past a betting table thick with smoke. You didn’t need her pouting just because you won. It was supposed to be a fun night. Only a baby cried because they lost a stupid game.

You sat at the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender was a nice but nervous man who must’ve known who you were accompanying. He stuttered as he took your order and nearly dropped the vodka when he went to pour it. He was good at his job though adn your drinks as sweet with an after taste that stung your throat. You thanked him and made soem idle conversation, knowing that Sevika was watching you out of the corner of her eye.

You could feel the heat of her anger even from that far away. You planned on sitting at the bar for a little longer, let them play a game without you so she could get a win back under her belt. Maybe then she’d be nicer.

The bartender Thieram was a nice man who made you rlaugh once or twice as you sipped your drink. He was respectful. Most men either didn’t like you or liked you too much. It wasn’t often your found someone who treated you like a friend.

This fact was proven a few minutes later when a man steppe dup to the bar to order a beer. He was probably almost thirty with black hair graying on the sides and a long tattoo down her left forearm. He was ugly. But ugly in a way that some people found very attractive, though the second you stared at him for too long, he looked like an abstract painting.

You only glanced at him for a second before stirring your drink while waiting to talk to Thieram again. He had a deep, angry voice. After Thieram turned away, he stayed at the bar and leaned against it, turning to face you. “You alright, babe?”

You didn’t look up. “Who are you calling babe?”

“Just a pretty woman I see at the bar.” He chuckled. “I’m Leox.”

“And I’m not interested.”

None of your blatant signals got through to him. In fact, he stepped closer. Enough that you could smell the weed he’d been smoking. “Come on. You seemed kinda upset at your table. Why don’t you come and join mine? I’ll treat you real good.”

“Oh, will you?”

“Yes,” he sighed. He leaned in, brushing your hair off your forehead. “I will.”

“Hm,” you hummed, closing your eyes as you pretended to enjoy his flirting. “Well…”

You pushed him away. “I’m still not interested.”

You only did men if they paid you for it.

The firm hand you placed on his shoulder withdrew only slightly before he gripped your wrist in place. For a brief moment your breath caught as he tugged you off of your stool and you were stumbling into him.

He grabbed your jaw firmly and pulled your face up to look at him. “Why couldn’t you just be nice? I know you’re just some whore. I could’ve paid well too.”

You jerked from his grasp, trying to turn around to get free and run out of there. He smelt awful and his breath was hot in your face. His teeth were yellow.

You were able to jam your heel into his toes, making him flinch so you could wriggle free, but as you were getting away, his foot caught under you and you fell to the ground. Your palms took the blunt of the pain as you scrambled to get yourself up.

As you pulled yourself to your feet, a heavy set of footsteps was storming past you and towards the man. In your panic, and with the moment being so quick, you hardly heard what she was saying to him—yelling at him.

You spun around, uneasy on your feet, and only saw their final interaction: Her fist against his face.

Once such a strong, intimidating man crumbled into a heap on the floor. Sevika stood over him, shimmer coursing through her metal arm and heavy breaths moved her shoulders, flexing the muscle. She turned around and you only saw the faint glint of purple in her eyes before she passed you again and ordered her men to take the guy out back. Teach him a lesson, she said.

The bar was silent. The woman humming low jazz was standing shocked beside her accordion player, the other patrons were trying to keep their gazes down, and Thieram was standing helpless behind the bar, terrified. You felt your face get hot as you stepped back subconsciously, your arms crossing and hugging your ribs.

Sevika was done barking orders and came up to you, pulling you back into the private room of the bar. The familiar place almost brought back amusing memories if you weren’t so upset.

She pulled you into her arms, examining you and making sure you were alright. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’m fine. Shit like that happens all the time to me.”

She exhaled heavily through her nose and looked at the door. She must’ve been pondering whether to go help her men or not, but your hand on hip kept her there.

You two ended up sitting on the couch together sharing a cigarette. You were beside her with your legs rested across her lap and your head on her shoulder. She had her hand gripping your thigh and her metal arm wrapped over your shoulders.

You looked up at her face after a long drag and saw how tense her face was, how she didn’t seem to be moving an inch. Staring off into space with a firm furrow in her brow.

“Sev?” You frowned, brushing her stray hairs off her forehead. “Don’t be so upset. Everything’s okay.”

Sure, you were a bit shaken, but men were always like that to you. It wasn’t right, but it was something you had to get used to. She’d have to understand that if she were to be around you.

She pursed her lips. “It’ll be okay as long as he gets what he deserves.”

You ran your thumb over the muscles of her collar. “Just try to calm down.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

You sighed, understand the aggression wasn’t towards you. To be honest, you didn’t feel unsafe at all with her. Even though her eyes still sparkled violet when the lamplight caught it.

“Everything will be okay,” you assured. “I’m fine and he’s gonna get what’s coming to him. Relax, dear.��

Again you rubbed her collar and shoulder, your fingers trying to ease any tension she had. You leaned in to place a small kiss under her jaw, and as your lips brushed her skin, she held you tighter against her.

You kissed her neck again, lingering to drag your tongue over her in a way that made her sign and settle into the couch. The action spurred you on and you left another heavy kiss to her pulse point, making sure to leave proof that you did so.

You climbed into her lap and straddled on of her thighs, the right muscle fitting right against your clit. She let you tilt her head back so you could keep up your actions.

“What…”

A sly smile spread across your lips and you kissed below her ear. “Just trying to help you relax,” you cooed, a bit of mischief in your voice as one of your hands fiddled with the top button of her vest.

As you pulled the button free, her hand on your thigh got ever so slightly tighter and you remembered the shimmer in her system.

“Come on, Sev, don’t be so upset. Don’t let him ruin the night.”

You dragged your kisses down her chest, letting more of her buttons become undone until she was helping you pull her arms out of the sleeves and you tossed her shirt onto the other side of the couch.

She looked magnificent, curving muscle winding down her stomach, scars lacing her skin, and her breasts dark and nipples pebbled from the cold.

As you took the moment to admire her, she grabbed your ass and nudged you to keep going. You’d never expect her to be so lenient on letting you have control, but maybe she was trusting you more. Or maybe she just really needed to let some stress out.

Your tongue slid across her chest, lips finding one of her breasts for you to suck on. You twirled your tongue around her nipple, sucking it into your mouth and rolling it around your teeth. She moaned, gripping you hair and letting you grind on her thigh. It was a perfect mixture of giving and receiving, all of her grains sending shockwaves to your core and you reveled in the taste of her.

You wanted to taste more.

As you slid onto the floor on your knees, you dragged you hands down her thighs and then up to undo her belt. She was breathing heavily as you kissed down her stomach, enjoying the sensation of her muscle against your lips. You pulled her pants down with her underwear, wrestling them over her boots and letting them be lost somewhere in the room.

Adrenaline led you to avidly kiss down her thighs, licking over every inch on the insides as you got closer and closer to her core. You could tell her was ready for you, her hand gripped the back of your head, waiting to hold your mouth against her. You moaned as she tugged at your hair lightly, trying to get you to start.

You left a long kiss on her inner thigh, just an inch from her pussy befor turning to begin. Only, you stopped to look up at her flushed face as smile.

“You’re so gorgeous, Sev.”

The compliment was not taken happily. “I swear to god—you and that fucking mouth of yours,” She breathed, her pupils blown as she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, you don’t like the teasing when it’s the other way around?”

“Just eat,” she huffed, pushing your face into her core.

It was hot and dripping, so ready for you. You lifted one thigh into your shoulder and spread her folds with your fingers. Her hairs were well kept and trimmed, brushing your nose as you dragged your tongue through her, tasting her.

She moaned, pushing your face further into her as you found her clit, flattening your tongue and coaxing over the bud. As you worked her up, you slid your fingers down and circled her entrance slowly, teasing it lightly.

Another heavy groan fell from her as she tightened her legs around your head. You could hardly hear her due to the clamp her thighs had over your ears.

Everything was so intense, the scent of her, the taste, the pressure of her legs, and the ughh grip she had on your hair. All you could do was kiss and lick her clit, enjoying the moment. It was so overwhelming you completely forgot any else that had happened that night.

You flicked her bud with the tip of your tongue, sucking on it as you slid two fingers into her.

It made her tense up and her head fell back over the back of the couch. She was desperate, holding your face so close and gently rocking her hips against your tongue as you fucked your fingers into her.

“Fuck, baby, don’t stop,” she demanded. You could sense her stress waning as she breathed deep and relaxed into you. You circled your fingers against her walls every time you pushed them in, sucking and licking her clit as you did so.

With your other hand, you pulled down the zipper of your suit and reached under the leather to find yourself. All of her heaving and moaning was too much for you to handle. The taste of her alone made you drip. You slid your fingers between your lips, finding your eager, swollen bud and stroking it.

You moaned against her, the vibrations making her gasp and you quickened your pace on both her and you. She was desperate, fucking heralded on your face bc had while you moaned against her clit and sucked. Rapid, intelligible words fell from her lips as she reached her high, curses and praised to you crescendoing into muttering whines as she came.

The pressure of her legs and your fingers rubbing over your clit was enough to get yourself there too. You cried out into her folds, the stimulation making her jerk as she came down from her high with you.

The both of you were breathing heavily as you crawled back up to her lap. She held you, sliding her hands past the unzipped front of your catsuit so she could feel your hot skin.

Your lips met in a messy clash or desperation. She dragged her teeth over your bottom lip as she made her grind your pussy against hers, the overstimulation making you both shudder.

Just as easily as you’d fallen into her kiss, she was pulling away and moving you off her lap. She set you down on the couch as she stood up, grabbing her clothes off the floor and couch to put them back on.

You sat up, anger and panick setting in. Did you do something wrong? “What—where are you going?”

She began to button her vest up, a grin sliding over her lips. “I’m taking you home.”

#fanfic #arcane #arcane league of legends #fanfiction #smut #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika fanfic #sevika smut #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #lesbian

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