Sidewinder: Volume I - Budd (Kill Bill) x Reader [Smut]
Synopsis: You’re a member of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad. Budd is just what you need, but do you need more?
Notes: This is part one, and there will be a part two! There's brief smut in this one, there'll be more in the next. This has most of the action :)
Part Two Here
You enjoyed the name Bill had so fondly picked out for you. Taipan. The world’s deadliest snake.
You had only been working with the Vipers for about a year, but it was a seamless incorporation into the team. You got along well with each member—especially Sidewinder.
Budd could never keep his eyes off you. You were talented at knowing exactly when a man was picturing you taking off your clothes, but with Budd, it was all the time. The looks he gave you-- like he wanted to devour you, just like his snake of calling would prey-- intrigued you.
See, the first thing you did when you joined the team was assess who you would sleep with, and who was off limits. A girl's got to have limits when travelling in a close knit pack of attractive assassins.
O-Ren? Attractive, but too dedicated to her work to probably notice you in any other way than a confidant.
Vernita? Straight. She's made it clear.
Elle? A fucking knockout, but a dangerous one. She's OFF limits.
Bill? Well. We won't go there yet.
Bea? She's different.
And then there was Budd.
Although he came off as a tough guy, he got some of his older brother's charm with his own little twist. He was different, and frustrating-- serious when things were light, and funny when things were serious. He didn't take himself as serious as the others, but you got the sense he was dumbing himself down so he wouldn't stand out as the best.
Tonight, Budd runs a damp cloth down his arm, where a deep gash runs down.
"Fuck," you hear him grit out, and stop on your way by.
"Be grateful it wasn't a Hattori Hanzo. You would've lost your arm.” He looks up, and huffs.
"Yeah."
You stare at him a while as he switches to stitching, and he looks back up, staring back.
"Why do you do that?"
"What?" he hesitates expectantly. You fold your arms.
"Let yourself fall into those situations. You could get out of them."
"You think I wanted someone to tear my arm to shreds?" he scoffs, going back to his work, "You are one crazy bitch."
"Hey," you stand square in front of him, "You're not the fucking palooka Bill and the others think you are."
"Thanks. I'll remember that next time I'm crying alone in my room, sweetheart."
You roll your eyes, and brush past him, knocking the previously-sterile needle out of his hands. "Fuck," he repeats gruffly, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk off toward the pit, where you know Beatrix is.
"Hey," you say, opening the door. The blonde whirls around, nearly kicking you in the face, but you grab her by the shin, twisting her. She lands on the ball of her foot, spins, and kicks again, twice to your knee. As you fall, you flip her, and the two of you crash to the floor.
"Draw?" she croaks out, reaching behind her. You shake her hand.
"Yeah."
"Bill's best assassins," she huffs, taking off her gloves and laughing. You help her up.
"Ruthless trained killers."
You go over with her as she sprays herself with a bottle. "Sorry about that. Thought you were Vernita. We've had this thing..."
"Yeah, where you try to kill each other every time the other one enters the room? We’ve all noticed. That glass table in the living room didn't shatter itself."
"The carpet's still covered in her blood," Bea grins in sadistic satisfaction, and you raise an eyebrow, handing her a towel.
"Which O-Ren practically had a meltdown over when she had her new slippers on, let me just point out. But I have to admit, the red goes with that vase on the mantle.”
“What can I say? I have an affinity for decorating,” Bea smirks, and you two walk out together into the long hallway of the flat. The penthouse suite here in Shanghai that operated as the main digs for the seven of you was the most expensive property in the city, but Bill didn’t care. The luxury was worth it, he said, as he loved to spoil his girls.
“Aw. Does that make you my sugar daddy, honey?” Budd had joked, and Bill had resisted the urge to whack his brother upside the head and settled instead for a long, annoyed glare.
"Watch this," O'Ren stops you two, "Elle's got a dime coming my way in fifteen seconds."
"Like, a 10/10 girl, or an actual coin?" you joke. O'Ren cocks her head.
"I could slice both in half, so it doesn't really matter." A coin whizzes by her face, and in the matter of a split second, she slices the dime in half with her
"Did it work?" Elle asks, sauntering in around the corner. O'Ren smirks, opening her palm to reveal two halves. The two do a secret handshake, and you and Bea keep going.
"Did you see what happened to Budd?" she asks, shaking her head.
"Yeah," you mutter, "He's slow on missions."
"I'd say he's just clumsy."
"That too."
That night as you go to sleep though, staring at the shadows of the skyscrapers outside on your wall, you think of Budd. His deep, drawling voice... the way he looks at you. Your hand slides down between your legs, and you close your eyes.
--
"That was a shit show!" Elle announces, and you all collapse back into the flat. Two weeks from where you started, you'd just acquired the head of a crime boss... who knew you were coming. While you had succeeded in killing him, his hundred other acolytes had definitely run you out of there fast. So, somewhat of a success. Somewhat of a failure. Two guesses as to which one Bill considered it.
"Fuck," Budd huffed, using his gun to support him. A bullet had grazed his knee, and while it tore open his pants and skin a little, he was okay. Vernita had gotten one in the shoulder... Bea had taken it out, with your help. You had knife slashes all over your neck-- but at least you're still breathing.
"Taipan," Bill says, nodding to you, "Good job." You look down at Bea, who gives you a reassuring smile. She knows what's coming for her, the usual chat.
While the others are recovering, and Bill is giving them a calm 'talk' about the importance of working together, not going rogue (this last anecdote was directed solely at Beatrix) you slip away.
Walking fast, you get to an empty corridor, and close your eyes, resting your head back against it.
Fuck. Sensory overload-- assassins got it too. You just needed to breathe.
"You okay?"
You open your eyes, and see Budd blocking the light from beside you.
"Yeah," you answer, too quickly. "What makes you think I'm not?"
"Don't fuckin' shoot me, but uh... you just seemed a little off your game."
"I am not off my game," you growl, cocking your handgun, "If I was, I'd be dead." He chuckles, putting his hands up.
"Okay, wrong words. You checked in on me the other day... this is me, checkin' in on you, angel." You sigh through your nose, and glance over.
"How are you?"
"Fine. Just a couple scratches." You laugh. It's actually funny to you how this life teaches you to pass these injuries off. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing. We're just fucked up."
He smirks, sliding in closer to you. "Well, we... knew that, didn't we?"
You breathe in his scent-- cigarettes, leather, gunpowder, and liquorice aftershave. It's all too much-- he's too close, and you have too much pent up energy. Your skin is positively electric, so is his, and Budd's lips are so fucking there--
"Go ahead. Kiss me," he groans, and you do, pressing your lips forward. Your hands go to his chest, and you push him against the opposite wall. The two of you make out like that for a few minutes, before he lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his hips, and reach down to unbuckle his torn up black dress pants in a hasty rush.
"Fuck, daddy," you moan, finally receiving him. He groans something similar, burying his face in your neck, and you're pinned against the wall, bouncing with every rough thrust he gives you.
"Daddy's got his girl. That's right... fuck, mmm, baby girl..." He's big, and everything you had imagined. Each and every pound of his dick erases one kill you made that night, one target, one bullet, one slash.
Forget it, forget it, unffff...
Your blood hums in your ears, heart pumping. You're still feeling the adrenaline from today, and you need this, you fucking need to come so bad, god Budd is so good...
"Come on, angel," he rasps, holding you tight, "You're perfect. Be a good girl and come for me."
You cry out, grasping his big shoulders, and he fucks you through it, rocking you. He pounds in a few more times, then pulls out, coming against the wall.
A few seconds of silence pass, the dull chatter of Bill's passive-aggressive admonishment still floating from the living space. Budd looks like he's going to try and say something. You want to hear it, but you don't allow yourself to.
Budd cleans the wall, and rubs a hand up your inner thigh. You grind your hips a little, and stretch.
"I needed that." It was your version of thanks. He nods, smiling softly. Then you walk past him, back to your room, and curl up, hugging a pillow.
----
"Budd. Sit."
"What's up, big brother?" Budd asks, slouching on the couch. He's got a lot on his mind, but he never lets it affect his work. He had a lot of problems with what he did, and not much of an outlet for the pain of it except you. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous... his brother was good at finding out about things, and with Budd and you right now, there was a lot to find out.
"Black Mamba."
Budd relaxes a little. "Mm? What about her?" he asks, lighting a cigarette.
"She needs to be taken out."
Budd gets serious, leaning forward. Normally, he would never ask questions, but he knows how close you are to Beatrix... and how close Bill is himself.
"Can I ask why?" Budd asks, voice barely above a whisper.
Bill doesn't turn around. "No, you may not."
----
You and Beatrix sit by the campfire. It's the Mojave Desert nighttimes that get you sentimental, and right now, you're feeling it under the stars.
It's about two months since you and Budd started sleeping together to help beat stress after missions. Each time, he'd find you, in the kitchen, in your room, in his room, in a closet, on the balcony, wherever, and fuck you until you sobbed. It's always hot, and it's always satisfying.
You always want more... but each time he asks what you can become, with those hopeful, lovesick icy blue eyes, you respond with the same thing:
"It's not personal."
You hate the crestfallen looks more than anything, but it's self defence. It's probably best for him, as well. What good did feelings ever do you? What good would they ever do? It's a weakness you both can't afford to harbour.
"Hey," Bea interrupts your deep thoughts, poking the fire. You look up at her through the orange sparks. "Is there something going on between you and Budd?"
Your defences go up. "No."
She just smiles. "I had a thing with Bill once. It's okay. They're attractive brothers. Can I ask you a question?"
"As long as it's not that one."
"How many scars you have? Physical scars."
You smile. "A lot."
"I mean... ones that aren't from this."
You feel your wrist deftly. "I fell when I was six, split my thumb. Fell when I was 10, split my knee. Fell when I was 13, split my elbow-- see where this is going? Then Bill came along to get me, I met you, and hell-- I'm one big walking scar now." She laughs.
"I only have one from before." She reaches down to her wrist, and clears her throat. "Tai, I've... (y/n). I've been meaning to say something."
"Yeah?" You take a swig from your beer bottle, setting it down. You wipe the dust from your hands off on your low rise jeans.
"I wanna say... I know friendship is discouraged in this line of work. But you're the closest thing to a sister I've got. And I wanted to say thank you."
Your mind stalls a little. You don't say thank you in this business. You just don't. But this is different, you can tell. No snarky jabs. No teasing. Just...
"You're welcome," you answer, and the two of you clink your beers over the fire. She looks down.
"I'm pregnant."
"What?" you choke.
"I want you to be the godmother."
"Bea--"
"Please."
You stay silent. If you even mentioned this to anyone else, you'd both be dead. But despite all warnings, you can't help but nod.
---
"Listen to what I'm telling you, honey."
Your tears fall silently on your hand, and you wipe them off before Budd notices them. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say. Or Bill."
"If you don't do it..." he murmurs desperately, "He'll kill you. He'll make me kill you." You know this. You know it plain as day.
"You're going to betray her."
"I'm doing my job. You do yours, and we come out clean. We can..." he sighs, holding you closer to him, "We can even get away for a while. You and me."
You calm yourself down, and let Budd kiss you down to the pillows. Don't make attachments. There's no reason why you can't carry this out. Every snake for herself.
---
Beatrix stands in the middle of the circle, looking around.
"What is this?"
You try to look her in the eye. She glares dead ahead at Bill. You're all standing in the middle of the desert, by a church.
"Has to be done, Bea," Bill says, and everyone gets out their guns.
"You know I can tear through each and every one of you," she snarls.
"Not her, honey," Budd speaks up, looking at you. "You two are matched. If you tear through all of us, you've still got her." The blonde looks at you, hurt evident in her eyes.
"You may call me sadistic," Bill continues, "But I'd argue that right now, I'm at my most... masochistic."
Budd rubs your back softly, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
"Bill--" Bea tries to plead. "It's your ba--"
Unable to bear it, you turn your gun on Bill, and start firing before he can shoot her. You know Budd will help you. There's a flurry of bullets, and Budd looks over at you. You look at him, and he goes to make a jump for you... you think you see his gun pulled, and you're stunned. Would he really do you in for Bill?
A bullet clips you in the back of the ribs, just grazing vitals, and you fall over.
O'Ren stands over you, and prods you with a grin.
"It appears the Taipan can be outmatched."
"You sick pieces of shit," Budd whispers under his breath, turning away.
Beatrix screams, Budd drops his weapon, and the guns are turned on the Black Mamba.
