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inklore · 8 months

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love lies

premise: the love you have for your fiancé is a farce that you’ve perfected for three years that has gone unnoticed by everyone, except her.

pairing: villanelle x (f)reader

word count: 1.7k

contents: cheating, fingering, choking, sort of knife play, getting off to the talks of blood and murder, dirty talk-ish, they’re both a bit unhinged but that’s ok.

note: this is an au obviously so take v’s character as you will and not as what’s canon ok, but cheers to my gay ass finally writing for her!

haunted hoedown day one.

The fake smile that you know has to be hurting the blonde’s face from being held for the entirety of the night makes something in your stomach curdle.

Makes your nerves sit on edge at the agitation, the secrets, and the lies that the smiles hold. That the owner of it is hiding. She deserves applause for keeping up with the act. The nice neighbor. The befriending of the nice couple who just moved in next door, getting close to the soon to be wife who left all her friends and troubles behind to move to Paris with her fiancé.

A move you agreed to.

A move you imagined would bring you and your fiancé closer. Would change that pit in your stomach that has since become a gaping hole every time you planned for the wedding. Planned to spend your life next to this man you only seemed to love when he was suffering.

When he was vulnerable. Brow pulled down in sadness. A cut done by a kitchen knife while he was cutting vegetables that you pushed down on harder than you needed to while cleaning it. When you accidentally put the wrong salve on it, just to watch him wince and squirm.

That look in his eyes when you were on top of him and you wrapped your fist around his throat to watch that sheen in his eyes question if you were going to let go. The last hitch in his lungs before you cut the air flow off completely.

“I just get really into it, I'm sorry.” You had told him when he asked about it after the first time, and who was he to take away from the pleasure of the woman he loved?

His ignorance was bliss.

But it was also tiring. Creating that gaping hole that the love he poured out to you ran through endlessly where it should have made you whole. Full. Better.

And yet you agreed to wear the ring he saved up to get you. Followed him across the ocean.

Your ignorance was a farce you didn’t know how to get out of. A farce that you’ve perfected for three years. That has gone unnoticed by everyone.

Except the blonde to your left.

The blonde, who had almost lost her touch on pretending to care about whatever was coming out of your fiancé’s mouth the longer the night went on. The longer her eyes caught yours. The longer her knee had pressed into your inner thigh after leaning herself further against the table—giving a look of fake eagerness—the more she pushed her legs between your open ones.

Your look of warning made her fake smile twitch into her real one—devilish, mischievous.

But now both smiles are gone and the two of you are standing in your kitchen, and you’re thankful for the dishtowels in your hands that are keeping them busy with drying because you know her resistance is running thin.

The patience she’s had all night that has threatened to come out in the possible slip of her false accent—the accent you only found to be fake when she cornered you in the entryway of your flat, her lips against yours, your name sounding better in her rigid Russian accent than her fake French one.

Your hands had gone from being in her hair to pushing at her shoulders, removing her from your body not because of the lie but because you needed the excuse to stop this, where every part of your being was sighing in relief from finally giving into the tension. To finally being touched by someone you actually desired.

You may not have loved your fiancé, but starting a torrid affair with your new neighbor didn’t seem like the right way to get out of your current situation—something you eventually learned was the exact opposite.

“I’ll be your dirty little secret, if that’s what you’re into. If it makes this easier for you. We both know he’s not your type.”

And if there was an award for reading someone completely through to their core and being right, Villanelle would win, and you’d be the loser.

“He is a very annoying chewer.” She breaks the silence, “did you know this when you accepted his proposal?” Your silent raised brow is enough for her to put her hands up in defense. “It was just an observation.” She sighs, picking up another dish, “a very annoying observation.”

Your mind scatters to scrounge up something that sets your nerves on edge about Villanelle. To what? Stick up for the man you don’t love? Or to try and prove to her that you actually do have feelings for the man who’s in the next room carrying on with his night happily, thinking he just had a great dinner with his soon to be wife and their hospitable neighbor who’s definitely not fucking his fiancé?

But there’s nothing to prove to the woman who can read right through you.

Who’s gotten off at the palms you’ve both wrapped around each other's throats.

You can’t disguise yourself in front of the queen of them.

It’s a losing game.

A game you’re not interested in playing, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself to.

A game you should play. To resist this woman and the detrimental feelings she brings up. The feelings that fill the void inside of you with the toxic waste of your shared fucked-upness.

Your eyes catch the glint of the knife in Villanelle’s hands. The way her fingers run along the blade to clean it. The tight grip she has on the handle. The confidence she has in knowing she’s not going to slip and cut herself—like she’s held worse in her hands and done worse with it.

The sight—the thought—makes you swallow harder. Makes those dark feelings and thoughts light something deep in your stomach that has you aching. That has your eyes looking up through the doorway towards the room where you know your fiancé is.

“I could do it, you know, quick, painless. He wouldn’t feel a thing.” Her accent is thicker when she’s whispering. When she’s this close, leaning into your side, breathing against the shell of your ear.

Her words make your grip slip, the glass in your hand tumbling into the sink, making you jump; making your thighs press together, your lungs forget how to take in air as you envision the blood that would stain your rugs, that would stain Villanelle’s skin.

“Everything okay in there?”

His voice is like a cold shower to the heat burning through your nerves like wildfire.

“Yes!” Villanelle pipes up in her fake French accent, “just a case of slippery fingers.” Her laugh is short and looks misplaced with the lack of smile on her face. With the fire that’s burning in her eyes when you look up at her, that glint of something you’ve yet to see but know is within her. That you know is within you. That has always been within you if you’d just dived deep enough to face the inevitable instead of letting her touch, kiss, fuck it out of you.

He’s still talking, saying words your ears—and your mind—refuse to register as Villanelle grips your waist and pushes you against the counter.

The knife still in her hand, the tip pressed to your breast bone, more distracting. More worth focusing on. Stealing all your attention and breath, even as she’s replying to him. As she’s keeping up with surade like her eyes aren’t burning through you. Like you can’t see how heavy she’s now breathing. How the sheen in her eyes is the complete opposite of someone who is weak, and it turns you on even more.

“It's worse when I push it through slowly.” Her breath ghosts over your lips as she whispers, as she leans forward, the tip of the knife presses further into your skin, making your breath catch at the sting. “I would do it so he would have already bled out before he knew what had happened to him.” The edges of her mouth rise in a soft smirk, “or would you rather me show you? So you can understand how it feels and do it yourself. You would look so good doing it.” The arousal in her voice that leaks through in the rough kiss she presses to your mouth is just as intoxicating as her words.

You don’t have time to mourn the loss of the blade at your chest when she moves it to press the two of you closer, to grip the sides of your neck to keep your lips on her mouth. To give her easier access to lick and bite into and against your open mouth, willing—needing—all she is giving to you.

When her hand slips up your dress, your thighs spread to give her access to where the both of you need her to be. To the cotton of your underwear and past the elastic band, to that ache that has you wet and warm and throbbing against her palm and fingers.

Her middle finger presses against your clit, your gasp concealed by her lips, your fingers digging into the side of her shirt.

“God, you’re so wet.” Her finger leaves your clit, the heel of her palm flush against it as she pushes a finger inside of you. “Is this all for me or for wanting him dead?” She teases and smirks when you can’t answer because you know you’ll do it too loudly.

When you both know the answer already.

If the two of you were alone, if you weren’t trying to be quiet—to stop the inevitable of your fiancé finding out or worse happening to him—you’d want Villanelle to keep talking. To coax you to your orgasm with her teases and remarks. To drop down to her knees and bury her face between your thighs until you were begging her for more, and then begging her to stop when she gave you too much.

But you’re not alone, and there’s only so many gasps and pants she can swallow down. Can lick out of your mouth with her tongue, thanks to her skillful fingers.

Thanks to the palm around your throat and the thumb pressing against your pulse point.

“One day I will kill him, and you will be mine.”

And as you come with her name breathed into her satisfied smirk, you believe her.

You want her to.

You know she will.

#villanelle x reader #villanelle x you #villanelle smut #killing eve fanfic #villanelle one shot #villanelle fic #villanelle fanfic #killing eve one shot #villanelle imagine #killing eve fanfiction #oksana astankova #oksana astankova x reader #villanelle x y/n #villanelle astankova #hauntedhoedown

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 2 years

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you're just like her

Part One of the Deadly Desire AU

Pairing - sugarmommy!Villanelle x morallycorrupt!Reader

18+ :mentions of killing, smut; oral (r!receiving), fingering, choking, slight roughness and d/s vibes but not really

Word Count - 1860

A/N - this entire series is honestly just an excuse to write villanelle my beloved and a kind of darkfic with a lot of smut and some murder, this smut is pretty mild to some of the stuff i have planned heheheh

You knew what Villanelle was, what she did, she’d told you so herself when she’d come back to where she’d left you in her Paris apartment with a small cut against her cheekbone. She was surprised at your indifference, the unwavering lukewarm glint in your eyes when she uttered the words.

I’m an assassin, I kill for money - and I’m good at it.

She expected a widening of your eyes, a furrow of your brows, a downturn of your lips into a disapproving frown. She thought perhaps you’d be disgusted, backing away from her in fear, repulsed at the things she’s done. She was more than prepared to rectify the situation when you’d push her away, looking at her how so many others do - like she’s a monster.

But instead her own breath hitched in her throat at the soft touch of your fingertips against her cheek, a tentative stroke across the forming bruise. She became more aware in that moment of the icy glaze always present over your eyes, she’d seen it before but it seemed more prominent just then, where she expected a flaming emotion she was met with nothing. Just an indifferent stare.

“You should put some ice on that.” You muttered, taking in the greyish colour deepening on her skin.

“That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?” She responded as you pulled your hand from her face.

“What am I supposed to say?” You returned, watching as she stepped over to the fridge from the sofa to grab a bag of peas from the freezer and lifted it to her face. She loosely perched on the stool beside the kitchen counter, eyes not leaving your face as she tried to read you.

“I don’t know. That you think I’m evil - that you’re horrified by what I do. Are you not scared?”

You gave her a shrug and a shake of your head and you thought, maybe, you should feel some sort of fear or repulsion but you couldn’t find it in you.

“So how do you feel about it?” She prodded, dropping the peas down onto the counter with a clatter, just so intrigued at this new side of you she was discovering.

“I don’t really feel anything about it, darling.” You shrugged, leaning back in your seat as she kicked her shoes off with a smirk. “As long as you don’t kill me, I don’t see why I should care - you’re not planning to kill me are you?”

She huffed a laugh at that, taking her seat beside you with that smug grin she wears so well. “No.”

“Then carry on - it’s what pays for all the things I like after all.” You smiled at her, referring to the clothes she buys you, the expensive restaurant trips and holidays she’s taken you on.

“Mm, you are so pretty when you’re spoiled.” She mused, mindlessly running her hand over your thigh.

“Are you gonna get this dry cleaned?” You asked, pulling at the collar of her white shirt that had been dotted with a drop of blood - most likely someone else's.

“I can just buy a new one.” She smirked, always ready to flaunt her wealth to you. She watched as you undid it button by button until you gazed at her bra clad chest, letting you push it past her shoulders before she tugged it off to discard somewhere on the ground.

It was animalistic the way she pounced on you, hands holding onto your face as she crashed her lips to yours. Her toned body flexed under your touch when she moved to straddle your legs, pushing you onto your back, sliding her hands up your bare thighs. Her firm touch always set your skin alight, squeezing the flesh of your upper thighs with her bruising kiss before inching her hands further upwards, the shirt you were wearing bunching up around your chest.

She left a trail of kisses over your stomach, downwards until she pressed one to your clothed pussy, feeling the heat from you, smelling your arousal. She wasted no time in pulling the underwear from your body, wrapping her arms around your legs to pull you closer and staring into your eyes as she let a trail of spit fall from her lips onto your already glistening slit.

She always ate you out as though you were the best meal she could ever consume, tongue expertly lapping through your folds, flicking over your clit whilst her hands dug into the flesh of your thighs, nails leaving crescents behind and maybe a bruise or two if she’s lucky.

You aimlessly grabbed at the sofa for something to hold on to, using your other hand to palm at your breast, pulling your nipple between your fingertips. She hollowed out her cheeks with a harsh suck against you making you moan, your hips tried to buck over her tongue but her strong hold kept you pinned down.

She peered up at you through her lashes, the way your body was gasping for breath, head thrown back with your eyes scrunched closed. You could feel her smirk against you before she pulled away, you weren’t surprised, she always was a tease. She likes to see you squirm, desperation in your eyes as you look at her, aching for her to fuck you.

She stood back up, lips shining with your juices as she cockily looked at you watching her undress, she knows how hot she is, she basks in your stares. She looked ethereal standing before you in just her underwear, an expensive, lacey set of lingerie; the black material a stark contrast to her smooth, milky skin.

“Take that off.” She spoke, gesturing to your t-shirt. You did as she said, tossing it aside before yelping slightly when she suddenly lifted you into her arms, easily picking you up. Your legs wrapped around her waist, your hands held onto the sculpted biceps she worked so hard on; you kissed over her neck until she threw you down onto her bed, both of you laughing lightly at the way you bounced.

Her sheets, of course, were expensive - ‘Liliana Rizzari’ silk throw beneath your naked body.

Villanelle crawled up your body, her blonde hair tickled your skin as she kissed you; her lips moved quickly with yours, her tongue battled with yours, licking into your mouth. She pulled away from you with a tug at your bottom lip before dark eyes locked with yours.

“Make me cum and I’ll take you out to dinner tonight.” She rasped, Russian accent coating her words. “Do a good job and I might get you those shoes you want too; you’ve been so good already, pretty girl. I’ve seen a whole new side of you.”

You could only nod in response, letting her guide your hand downwards until your fingers toyed with the waistband of her underwear. You felt how wet she was already, whether she admitted it or not, she got so wet for you - just seeing you wanting her, hearing the sounds she can pull from you, made her ache.

She bit into your collarbone with a sigh when you pushed your fingers into her, they slid into her easily with how dripping she already was. You’d learnt how to perfectly curl your digits in a way that hit her in just the right way, her hips twitched at the movement, lips sucking at your neck with harsh bites scattered over your skin.

The pad of your thumb rubbed over her swollen clit and the sound of her choked moan took you by surprise; she always made sure to stay as quiet as possible but after today she didn’t feel the need to. You were like her, you had that cold and empty look in your eyes - she’d found a new comfort in you she hadn’t expected, you’d earned the right to hear the way you made her feel.

She kissed over the column of your throat as your fingers pumped into her, curling inside her, pulling out and pushing back in with a lewd sound of her arousal. Her lips dragged over your skin in a perfect sequence, her breath was hot against your chest when her tongue swirled over your nipple and pulled away with a tug between her teeth.

“Fuck.” She sighed against you with a moan. “Look at me when you make me cum, pretty girl.” She added, taking your chin between her thumb and forefinger, positioning it so your eyes could lock with hers. She kept them trained on yours as she climaxed, clenching around your fingers with a grunt of pleasure, lips falling open with heavy breath. The sight was glorious, you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together beneath her.

She dug her fingers into your wrist, yanking your hand away from her. She eyed the shining wetness along them, as she pushed them towards your mouth.

“Clean it up.”

You did as you were told, sucking your fingers with a hum at her sweet taste, swirling your tongue over them until they were clean.

She gave no warning before her long fingers thrust into your dripping pussy, she smirked cocklily at the way your eyes widened and your teeth clamped down into your lip at the sudden intrusion. Her fingers were drenched straight away, slipping into you with a curl she knew would make you moan the way you did.

She sat up on her knees to watch you, breasts slightly bouncing with her rough movements, nails digging into the mattress. Her free hand stroked up your torso until her svelte fingers wrapped around your neck, pushing onto your throat in a way that had your eyes rolling back in your head. She squeezed in a controlled way, limiting your oxygen and letting it flow again.

With a circle drawn over your clit with her thumb you were cumming over her fingers, your hips bucked upwards, your back arched and your chest rose and fell in gasps of breath. Villanelle didn’t wait for you to recover before she forced her fingers past your lips, fucking them into your mouth as you cleaned yourself off her long digits.

She pulled them away with a string of saliva in tow once she was satisfied, flopping beside you on the bed, pulling a sheet over you both. The room was brightly lit from the sun through the large windows across from you, a breeze floating in through the net curtains. It gave perfect visibility to your naked upper half that she left uncovered, her own body still in her bra and underwear as she leant her head on her hand and danced her fingers over your bare skin.

“Come with me on my next trip.”

“Really?” You asked in surprise. Usually she left and came to you in England, or she flew you out to wherever she wanted to go - she’d even started to let you stay in her Paris apartment until she came back. But she’d never even suggested inviting you on one of her work trips.

“Yes.” She nodded nonchalantly. “I think you’d enjoy it.”

“Where’s your next job?”

“Italy.”

#villanelle x reader #killing eve #killing eve fanfic #villanelle astankova #oxana vorontsova #villanelle x you #beefy villanelle #villanelle astankova x reader #villanelle x fem!reader

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locolesbianwp · 1 year

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the gift

pairing: Eve Polastri & Villanelle | Oksana Astankova

warning: smut

summary: Eve gives Villanelle the gift of a lifetime

word count: 4200+

March. Typically, the world is greyed over due to numerous rain-filled clouds inhabiting the sky. Trees are still lank and bare from the winter weather and their leaves have barely given any thought about making a reappearance. However, today seemed special. Different. The usually sequestered sun had dominated the clouds and shone bright rays of light into the world beneath it. Even the trees bore small budding leaves on randomised branches.

Eve stirred from her sleep as a result of said sun, which was beaming through the slit in the curtains and directly onto her face. Her hands subconsciously rose to shield her closed eyes from the light and she let out a soft groan caused by both tiredness and irritation. She kept her eyes covered and wished for sleep to take over her again, before she realised what day it was.

Villanelle's birthday.

Eve's eyes immediately popped open, but reduced to a squint after being attacked by the sun. "Shit." She muttered, sitting up in the king size bed while Villanelle lay asleep beside her. Eve tried to rack her brain for an appropriate word to describe how her lover looked in that moment, but ironically, the only word that came to mind was angelic. Perhaps it was the way her honey coloured hair was sprawled across the pillow in an almost halo shape, or maybe it was the certain sunbeam which resembled a golden aura that highlighted the lower half of her face.

Villanelle's mouth in the light was nothing short of tempting. Her full lips looked even pinker in the spotlight, and the subtle sleepy pout that she wore was calling Eve's kiss. There was nothing she wanted more than to just simply lean down and kiss her, wake her. But Eve wanted to give Villanelle the best birthday she could, and that started with breakfast in bed.

Eve forced her attention away from the sleeping girl next to her and instead focused on the task at hand. First, she needed to actually figure out what time it currently was and how much time she had to sort things out before Villanelle woke. She pulled the charger from out of her phone and peered at the illuminated screen which displayed what she needed to know.

9:18

Villanelle generally woke up at around ten, so Eve had plenty of time. It wasn't unusual for her to wake up before her partner, however, she usually snuggled up to the person next to her and drifted back into a deep sleep. But not today. Eve carefully pulled the sheets from her body and clambered out of bed as silently as she could so as to not disturb Villanelle. She tiptoed her way out of their shared bedroom and walked into the large kitchen, where the whole of the sun could be clearly seen through the windowpanes. As she tried to think of what she could possibly make for breakfast, she scoured through the fridge to find any assortment of ingredients that could form something edible. Pancakes, maybe? Eve Polastri was definitely not a Michelin star chef, although she did take pride in her ability to make a palatable batch of pancakes.

Eve cleared the fridge of the ingredients she needed; eggs, milk, butter. She even grabbed a hold of a half-empty carton of orange juice and poured the liquid into a glass for herself. Deciding to make the most of the improved weather, she cracked open the windows to allow the fresh Spring air to spread throughout the room. While Eve began to whip up the pancake batter, she came to the realisation that she had never made this kind of effort with her ex-husband. She didn't wake up early on his birthday to cook him breakfast in bed, and she didn't sneak out of the room so as to prolong his sleep. Niko was her husband, but he wasn't the one.

The pancakes didn't take long to cook, and Eve was plating them up before she knew it. She would often drift away from reality when completing simple tasks, as they didn't require much forethought and her mind was very easy to succumb to. Due to this, she completely forgot she had to pick up Villanelle's birthday cake she ordered a few days before. Eve picked up her phone, all while cursing herself internally, and dialled the bakery's number to let them know she was running a little late and she'd be there as soon as she could. She wanted to be able to take the breakfast to Villanelle as soon as she got back, so she decided to quickly chop up some fresh fruit as she wouldn't have to do it when she returned. An assortment of blueberries, bananas and strawberries were finely sliced and placed intricately atop the stack of pancakes on each plate, with the reminder of the fruit being transferred into a bowl.

Eve was happy with her work, but she was well aware that the cake still needed to be collected. She pulled on a pair of shoes and caught sight of herself in the hall mirror, wearing grey sweatpants and a loose black t-shirt that she had slept in. Usually she would change into something fresh before going outdoors, but she just didn't have the time, so she left her house with purse in hand and no cares about her outfit.

On the walk to the bakery, Eve delighted in the joyous chatter of people and children revelling in the sunny skies. It was hard to believe that just yesterday, the streets were painted with raindrops. Next to the bakery sat Eve and Villanelle's favourite cafe. It was a family owned business with an expertise in roasting beans. The closer Eve got, the stronger the coffee smell was, and the more she craved a cup. She eyed the bakery door. She knew she was running behind, but she was won over by the caffeine.

The man behind the counter greeted Eve enthusiastically and immediately began to make her order, without her even needing to say anything. A cappuccino and a hot chocolate.

"V not with you today?" The barista questioned, noticing Villanelle's absence right away. The couple always came here together, so it was a rare sight for Eve to be here by herself.

"It's her birthday today. She's having a lie in." Eve explained and awaited her coffee as it was being poured into a take-away cup.

"Aw, wish her a happy birthday from me!" The man placed both cups on the counter. Eve reached for her purse to take out the money she owed, but the man waved a dismissive hand. "It's on me. Get back before she wakes up."

"Thank you." Eve said sincerely and picked up the hot drinks. Now she really needed to pick up that cake. She entered the bakery next door and was immediately greeted with the wonderful aroma of freshly baked goods, which had her stomach growling in search of food. Resisting the temptation to purchase a croissant for herself, Eve freed her hands of the coffee by putting the beverages on the countertop and pulled out the money she owed for the cake. And only the cake. No croissants. Once she was given her order, Eve placed her coffee cups on top of the box and bid a polite goodbye to the workers. It was definitely a challenge balancing the drinks while walking, but she successfully managed to make it back into her house without any accidents.

The house was quiet, apart from the high pitched singing of birds that could be heard from outside. Hoping that Villanelle was still asleep, Eve entered the kitchen to see things just as she left them. With a sigh of relief, Eve put the large box inside the fridge for safe keeping, and placed her items on a chopping board; two plates, the bowl of fruit and the two cups. She wasn't bothered to look for a tray since the chopping board did the exact same job and aided her in carrying all the stuff to the bedroom in one go. She pushed open the bedroom door with her foot and watched as a yawning Villanelle was rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Good morning." Eve greeted, immediately drawing Villanelle's attention to her.

"Aw, Eve." She spoke softly, jutting her lower lip out in a sweet pout. "You made this for us?"

"For you." Eve corrected, kicking off her shoes and rejoining her lover on the bed. She set down the chopping board in the middle and scooted up with her back against the headboard. Villanelle mimicked her position.

"Happy birthday, Villanelle." Eve leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, to which Villanelle's skin reacted by crimsoning in a blush.

Villanelle had never felt so seen before. Her birthday was never a big deal for her, or anyone. It was just a date on the calendar that she recognised but never fully acknowledged. She certainly didn't get breakfast handed to her, or the love of her life celebrating with her. She didn't know how to react to the gesture, and her eyes began to fill up with emotion, so she simply said, "Eat up."

Eve didn't need to be told twice, nor did the rumbling in her stomach. She picked up one of the plates and groaned in the realisation that she forgot cutlery.

"What's wrong, Eve?" Villanelle asked, a furrow in her brow that showed she was genuinely concerned. Eve chuckled and shook her head.

"I just forgot to bring a knife and fork."

"Hey, what are hands for?" Villanelle picked up a pancake in one of her hands and tucked a few berries into the fold she was creating, before putting it into her mouth and taking a hefty bite. This prompted Eve to follow and take her own bite of the pancake. They both shared a glance as the delicious food took over their taste buds. Villanelle comically rolled her eyes into the back of her head in pleasure, which had Eve quickly glancing away before she got any ideas.

"So good." The blonde mumbled over a mouthful of food and grabbed one of the cups off the board. She recognised the label instantly and smiled to herself, washing down her bite with a gulp of...cappuccino.

"Bleh!" Villanelle forced the liquid down before handing the drink to its rightful owner. "Cappuccino."

Eve laughed at the reaction and took her cup. The couple spent majority of the day in the bedroom, eating their food and dancing to old music played on vinyls. Villanelle suggested spending some time outdoors in the warmth and Eve agreed. They dressed into light clothing and walked hand in hand outside, where the sun was belting down hot rays and positivity.

"Do you want to go to the park?" Villanelle asked as the pair strolled down the street.

"Of course. It'll be packed, though." Eve informed her, but neither of them really cared.

"It's okay. I'll just scare the children off." Villanelle said casually. Eve turned to look at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. She was serious!

"You want to play? Like, actually play in the park?"

"Yes! Why else would I have suggested it?" Villanelle had a confused look on her face. Eve just laughed and leaned her head on the taller woman's shoulder as they walked to the park.

It was indeed packed. Children ran about the tarmac, squealing gleefully while parents chattered over benches and homemade sandwiches. Eve felt a little self conscious about being a fully grown woman in a park with no children of her own, but Villanelle did not care. She was a child at heart.

"C'mon, Eve! I want to go on the swings." Villanelle latched onto Eve's hand tightly, dragging her to the swing set that was fully occupied, apart from one. "Sit." She instructed and Eve followed, taking up the last swing. She thought that Villanelle was going to push her but instead she stood in front of the little boy on the neighbouring swing.

"Move. Now." Villanelle demanded and the boy ran off the swing without any further orders. She took the swing and looked over at Eve, who was stifling a laugh. "What? He's probably been here long enough, it's my turn."

"You're a big kid." Eve teased, adjusting her grip on the rusting metal chains and beginning to swing.

"I'm your big kid." Villanelle attempted to flirt, but they both looked at each other with widening eyes. "No, I have sex with you, that's just wrong."

"Villanelle!" Eve scolded her and glanced around to see if any children heard. "This is a children's park. You can't just say sex." Her voice lowered to a whisper.

"At least I'm not doing it." Villanelle shrugged it off and joined Eve in swinging.

"Yeah, 'cause it's a crime."

"Just because some things are illegal doesn't mean it has stopped me doing them."

"Duh." Eve laughed.

The pair swung around for a while longer before they decided to head home. The sun was beginning to dim down a little and the park was quietening. Walking back to the house, they continued to hold hands, not wanting to part after spending so little time together over the years.

"Do you think the sun knew it was my birthday today?" Villanelle asked with her head tilted towards the sky just as Eve was opening the front door.

"Yes." Eve said honestly, taking one last look at the star before it was to be covered over by incoming clouds. They entered the house and Eve instructed Villanelle to take a seat at the table in the kitchen while she shut the door.

"Why? What are you doing?" She questioned. Of course she wouldn't just sit down without asking why.

"Just sit down." Eve gestured to the chair.

"Why, though?"

"Villanelle, do you trust me?"

"I do."

"Then sit down." Eve rolled her eyes playfully at the stubbornness of her girlfriend.

"Fine." Villanelle dragged out the word, but took a seat at the table nonetheless. Eve snuck over to the fridge and removed the box she placed in there earlier. She lifted the two tier lilac cake out of its packaging and grabbed some candles from the back of a cupboard. She stuck a few of them haphazardly into the cake and struck up a lighter, disguising the sound with a cough. Villanelle could only hear what Eve was doing, and she was pleasantly surprised when the cake was placed in front of her on the table. Eve began to sing happy birthday, very horribly in her eyes, but Villanelle loved every second of it and that's all that mattered. Those tears that were blinked away this morning resurfaced, but Eve noticed them this time.

"Is my singing really that bad?" Eve joked lightly but pulled a chair closer to Villanelle and sat down. She grasped the blonde's face between her hands, allowing the pads of her thumbs to trace the outline of her cheekbones and wipe away falling tears.

"No. You've just been so nice to me." Villanelle admitted and leaned into Eve's touch, sniffling very quietly. Eve's heart hurt for her lover but she put on a brave face.

"And I will continue to do that. It's what you deserve. Now, make a wish." Eve directed the subject to the cake to lighten the mood, and she could tell Villanelle was grateful for it. She thought about her wish for a moment before blowing out each candle simultaneously with a huge blow, to which Eve celebrated with a cheer.

"Do you want to have a slice now or do you want your present first?" Eve asked, rising from her seat. Villanelle looked genuinely surprised at the question.

"You got me a present?"

"Yes, of course I did."

Villanelle smiled. "Then I want that first."

"You got it." Eve shot her a wink while she disappeared from the kitchen to retrieve the gift. Villanelle took a moment to appreciate the effort that Eve had put into making this day special for her. And it was just that. Special.

Eve returned with another box, but wrapped this time in a birthday themed paper and tied off with a red ribbon. She pushed the cake out of the way and set the present in front of Villanelle, returning to her seat to watch her open it.

She untied the ribbon, ripped open the paper and pulled open the box. She gasped at its contents and looked at Eve, who had the end of her nail in her mouth.

"Lingerie?" Villanelle raised an amused eyebrow, picking up the lacy underwear with her thumbs. The blood red material changed the mood in the room with its presence. The ribboned one piece felt expensive in her hands and she was just about to ask where it had been purchased, only Eve cut her off.

"How about you to try it on and I'll grab some wine." Eve rose from her seat with a confident composure, as if her heart wasn't racing inside her body at the thought of Villanelle in the present she got her. She felt maybe she was being a little selfish with the present, as it would be more her who would be enjoying it, but the way she was feeling right now let her know that Villanelle would definitely be as grateful for the gift as Eve was.

Villanelle wordlessly sauntered out of the kitchen with the box in her hands while Eve scanned the wooden rack for a particular bottle of red wine. Once acquired, she plucked two wine glasses and carried them to the bedroom. Upon opening the door, she found Villanelle already changed into the lingerie and seating herself on the bed, back against the headboard like her position this morning.

Every shift of her curvy body was accentuated by the cardinal colour, and it contrasted so beautifully against her pale, milky skin. Her full breasts filled the cups of the piece, with the tops of them spilling out ever so slightly. Each step that Eve took just added to the lust she was already feeling. The wine in her hands was almost forgotten about until Villanelle spoke up and drew Eve from her mesmerisation.

"I like these glasses." Villanelle admitted, taking the two from Eve's hands and setting them on her beside table. Eve could hardly form a coherent thought in her head, and there Villanelle was, admiring wine glasses.

"Yeah." Eve agreed with a sheepish nod and popped open the chilled wine bottle. The liquid sloshed around in the glass as she poured it carelessly, and Villanelle caught an escaped drop that was running down the side of the glass with her finger. She placed that finger in her mouth to lick off the drop of alcohol, all while staring at Eve from under her lashes. The older woman took a deep breath before swallowing the glass of wine in one. She certainly needed the alcohol to kick in immediately to soothe the overload of feelings within her body. She was so turned on, nervous, hot. All because of another girl.

"I like your style." Villanelle's lips curved into a smirk as she gulped back her own glass until nothing was left. The residue of the red liquid stained her lips a darker shade of pink, and that was all Eve needed to give in. She climbed onto her knees on the bed and positioned herself in front of Villanelle, between her legs. The blonde wrapped her slim legs around the other's waist, and pulled her in closer. Eve felt drunk already, but she knew it wasn't the result of the singular glass of wine; she was love drunk. And overly horny.

Eve leaned in first and captured Villanelle's lips in a kiss. Her lips were soft and delicate and she couldn't seem to get enough. Villanelle separated for air but Eve's eager mouth was parting her dewy lips faster than she could inhale. Eve felt again the rush of submissiveness, the fervent yearning, the surge of desire that knocked her breathless. This was routine for her, but she didn't wish to submit to Villanelle tonight. They both pulled away, intaking sharp breaths to their lungs. Eve barely gave Villanelle time to breathe, for her lips were now planting hot, open-mouthed kisses against the side of her neck. She skimmed across her pulse point with her teeth and pressed a singular kiss on the base of her throat. Villanelle gasped softly and her head titled back, hitting against the headboard with a quiet thud. The birthday girl was in a daze, rightfully in a trance due to Eve's actions.

As the pair put a few centimetres distance between their faces, Villanelle could read the look in Eve's eyes. She had no time to speak, to interject, for Eve was already shuffling her body down the bed, laying on her stomach and placing her hands around Villanelle's knees. She shivered at the cool touch and slowly spread her legs apart, peering down into beady brown eyes that were already gazing at her. No words were exchanged, only small pants of anticipation as Eve traced a svelte finger along the lacy outline of the panties Villanelle wore. She waited with bated breath for the next move, and slowly shut her eyes when Eve hooked the finger beneath one side of the underwear and pulled it to the side. The older woman could see just how wet this whole ordeal had gotten Villanelle. She let the material go from her finger and it snapped back against Villanelle, making her squirm. Her insides were quaking with lust.

Eve watched her own hands as they ran over expanses of creamy, pale skin and squeezed in all the right places. Each squeeze evoked a different reaction from the blonde, which only fuelled Eve's desire more. She couldn't take any more of this teasing herself, never mind Villanelle.

She pulled the panties to the side once more, but rougher this time. Eager fingers began to sneak between Villanelle's thighs, slipping past the soaked lace and ghosting over her pulsing clit, which earned a filthy whine in response. Eve rubbed tight little circles on the blonde's clit and looked up between her legs to see Villanelle's eyes shut. Eve stopped.

"What the hell?" Villanelle complained, glaring down at her lover with a nettled expression.

"Keep your eyes open, Oksana." Eve demanded, and Villanelle's eyes widened at the name. Words failed to come to her, so all she could manage was a nod to show she understood.

"And hold this." Eve instructed, gesturing to the panties that she was holding to the side. Villanelle reached down to take over and watched her lover's every move.

Eve used two fingers to spread Villanelle's glistening folds apart and leaned forward to ghost her lips over her clit, giving it a whisper of a kiss. She stuck out her tongue and flattened it, sliding from the beginning of Villanelle's entrance, up to the straining pearl of her clit. With her teeth clenched, the blonde hissed softly, and Eve repeated the motion again and again. She was determined to have Villanelle yield and by the way her chest was heaving up and down hastily, Eve knew that she was enjoying this as much as she is.

Eve worked messily and despite her best efforts to gather everything Villanelle had to offer, warm wetness still smeared across her cheeks. The blonde's taste was sweet, tangy, and so, so addictive. Eve's tongue delved deeper in search of more, parting Villanelle's pussy with the tip of her tongue and she thrusted forward into her. A sharp cry was released into the air and Eve looked up just in time to see Villanelle bite hard onto her lip to stifle her moans of pleasure. Eve's grip on Villanelle's thighs tightened, and she could feel the uneven skin of battle wounds beneath her palms. Each scar told a different story of how Villanelle fought and survived.

The couple knew that Villanelle would not be able to stay completely submissive for too long. Her free hand came to rest on top of Eve's head, twisting curly hair around her fist and shoving her face further against her pussy. Eve barely had an opportunity to catch her breath, but the way Villanelle's hips were raising to ride her tongue was evidence enough that she was close to ecstasy.

"Oh, Eve." She panted out, closing and opening her fist around black locks. "Keep doing that."

Eve had no intentions of stopping. She continued the repetitive plunging of her tongue into Villanelle's entrance, and removed one of her hands from her thigh to tease the clit that was longing for attention. At this action, Villanelle's thighs automatically closed around Eve's head in a vice-like grip as her orgasm overtook her body. Wetness trickled past Eve's mouth and coated her chin as the woman above her moaned out curses in a mix of both English and Russian.

"Wow." Villanelle spoke, breathless. She parted her legs to allow Eve to catch her breath and rekindled eye contact.

"Best birthday present ever. Do you want some cake now?"

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fixyfics · 2 years

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Killing Eve

all out to sea, 3.6k words, rated m • read on ao3

Eve doesn’t leave the Thames kicking and screaming.

No.

She is silent.

Silent as the grave.

#killing eve #villaneve #killing eve fanfic #villaneve fanfic #Eve Polastri #Villanelle Astankova #depression city lol

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valfem · 2 years

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we could be so good

summary: eve accidentally discovers a fantasy of hers and villanelle helps it come true

rating: explicit (smut)

series: part 3 of safest haven

read it on AO3

#villaneve #villaneve fanfic #killing eve fanfic #killing eve #villanelle astankova #eve polastri #wlw fanfic #wlw #wlw smut

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oksanaastankova · 19 days

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Two years ago Jodie Comer and Sandra Oh gave us the best onscreen kiss of all time. - April 10, 2022.

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giflxndia · 14 days

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sugaronyourtongu3 · 3 months

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The killing eve kiss on my crt tv

#killing eve #oksana astankova #eve and oksana #queer #dyke #villaneve #villanelle #eve polastri #Sandra oh #Jodie comer #villanelle x eve #crt #crt tv #vintage tv #crts

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lousolversons · 1 year

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Jodie Comer as Villanelle in KILLING EVE (2018-2022)

#killingeveedit #killing eve #villanelle #oksana astankova #jodie comer #tvedit #queen of close ups and being alive #1k

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unsociable-and-taciturn · 9 months

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Barbenheimer (2018)

#barbenheimer #barbie #oppenheimer #barbie 2023 #killing eve #villanelle #konstantin vasiliev #pink dress #rise of the pink ladies #pink #jodie comer #kim bodnia #oksana astankova #chaotic academia

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boringasspotato · 1 year

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The only thing that rivals my love for unhinged women is my love for women who had no hinges to begin with

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 2 years

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deadly desire au

Pairing - sugarmommy!Villanelle x morallycorrupt!reader

What starts off as an arrangement of sex and lavish gifts turns into something darker; a deadly blend of personalities. Sex, money and murder.

18+ : depictions of violence and murder, heavy smut, each part will be tagged accordingly

Part One - you're just like her

#villanelle x reader #villanelle #beefy villanelle #killing eve #killing eve fanfic #villanelle astankova #oxana vorontsova #villaneve

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oksanas-sun · 6 months

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i always liked this african proverb and i realised this fits v like,,, way too well so i made this lil gif

#killing eve #villanelle #oksana astankova #protect villanelle/oksana at all cost

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seethesin · 6 months

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peace and quiet

pairing: Villanelle x Assassin!F!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, car sex, dirty talk, fingering, edging (18+, mdni)

a/n: bet ya didn't see this coming 😏 truthfully, i've had this scenario on my mind for about a month now. i had to write this before i got through the rest of my drafts. im also a bottom!villanelle fan oops enjoy! gif credit.

The last way you wanted to spend your Friday evening was stuck in a Ford Fiesta with the world's most infuriating assassin, Villanelle. But here you both were, cramped and cranky as you wasted hours watching a man go through his nightly routine. Truthfully, you didn't know much about your target except his name, James Fitzgerald. His dossier was light and you suspected that further information wasn't yours to know.

As your handler would say: the less you knew, the better.

Silently, you watched as James moved from room to room in his home; starting in his bedroom, wandering into the kitchen, and finally, settling into the living room. Couldn't the Twelve have a vendetta against someone more interesting?

The blonde next to you must have thought the same thing. Immediately, she turned the radio on, flicking through the stations until she hummed in approval.

"Oh, I love Britney," she muses, beginning to sing along to the chorus of Womanizer as it pumps through the car's surround sound system.

You refrain from groaning.

"Villanelle, I need you to stop." Your voice is strained as your eyes are trained in front of you.

She's completely off-key but sings without a care in the world. Obviously, she's ignoring you and you exhale slowly, squeezing your eyes shut. Villanelle was good at what she did. Great even. But her hyperactive nature and flair for dramatics made you dread any time the two of you had to work together.

It wasn't just her obnoxious nature that made it so difficult for you to work with her. From the outlandish yet stylish outfits she donned to the way she held herself on and off the job, you thought she was stunning. But now, being in such close quarters only seemed to intensify those feelings. Your stomach did somersaults at each pesky thought, unable to get them out of your head quick enough. Entertaining those ideas was a distraction you couldn't afford.

Not in this line of work.

It's just one mission, you find yourself thinking, blinking your eyes open. I just need to get through one mission with her and then—

And then you will work with her again when the Twelve will it. You will still have these terribly ridiculous feelings that you will, once again, have to dissect like you are now. You grit your teeth and instead focus your boring gaze on James Fitzgerald's wrinkled forehead.

Wordlessly, you turn the radio knob towards you, muting the music so you can focus. Villanelle's contralto voice cuts through the silence like a blade and it takes her a few moments to realize what you've done.

"Hey! I was having fun!"

You roll your eyes, tapping your fingertips against the steering wheel.

"I wasn't."

Villanelle scoffs, feigning offense before leaning back. Aggressively, she adjusts her seat, allowing it to fully recline. She lays down, eyes glued to the car ceiling before crossing her arms over her chest petulantly.

You were ready to further accentuate her childishness as she muttered about how you were a 'party pooper,' but paused. James was getting up and walking towards his front door. He was letting someone inside, holy shit! This needed to be documented.

In the dark, you felt for your phone that was supposed to be on the console. Miscalculating, you reached over farther than necessary and instead grabbed—

Villanelle gasped, body arching forward.

Oh.

Your fingers gripped the flesh of her inner thigh, dangerously close to the hem of her shift dress. Blush immediately crawls over your cheeks and you become a stammering mess.

"Oh my god," you ramble, going to remove your hand. "I'm so sorry, Villanelle. I thought that—"

You don't get to finish your sentence. Her hand is over yours and she shoves your palm in between her legs. The wet cotton of her underwear greets your fingers and the heat it emits makes you flatline.

This wasn't real. None of this could be real.

"I know how you look at me."

The statement throws you off kilter and you gape like a fish. Were you that obvious? The idea makes you nauseous; how the hell did Villanelle know your feelings better than you could even comprehend them?

"Stop thinking," she husks and her confidence seems to spread to you like wildfire.

James Fitzgerald and his unannounced guest are long forgotten as you shift in your seat, turning to face Villanelle. Your finger pads inquisitively drag up the length of her clothed slit. Her breathing grows heavier the closer you stroke towards her clit. You can make out her teeth digging into her lower lip and the mischievous glint in her eyes as she stares back at you.

She’s begging you to keep her entertained.

Cautiously, you pull your hand away. The loss of contact squeezes a whimper from her throat, but it dies as she watches you slip two fingers between your lips. You suck slowly, refusing to break eye contact with her before releasing them with a soft pop. You don’t miss the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“Are you going to behave?” Villanelle nods like a bobblehead, practically rutting her body closer to where your hand used to be.

You chuckle. “Good girl.”

Wet fingers glide up her bare leg, meeting at the junction just below her thigh and cunt. Gently, your fingers worm underneath the waistband of her underwear. Painfully slow, you tug them down so that they pool at her knees. They are soaked and the sound of the blonde’s panting is amplified in the enclosed quiet of the car.

"Oh baby," you taunt, watching as she presses her thighs together. You want to swallow her whole.

"Is this all for me?"

"Yes," she sighs out instantaneously, parting her legs as your hand connects back to her cunt.

Your middle finger delicately slides through Villanelle's folds, exploring her velvety flesh. Tracing circles around her labia, you finally brush just underneath her clit. She jerks forward, desperately chasing your touch.

"Villanelle." Her name is a warning on your tongue, tutting gently as you watch her squirm. Your middle finger is fixed in the same position and her fingers curl around your wrist.

"Be nice," she pleads and no matter what your plan was initially, you couldn't deny her further. You nod and gently, your middle finger sinks inside her.

Villanelle tenses momentarily, adjusting to the intrusion before relaxing. She squeezes your wrist, silently goading you to move. You comply, thrusting deeper inside of her.

Your finger moves leisurely at first, more so to savor the first-time feeling of her silky flesh enveloping you. Gradually, you pick up the pace. Her slick drools down the length of your finger and the obscene squelching makes you blush.

Thank god for the dark.

A stream of moans bubbles from Villanelle's throat as her fingernails dig into your wrist. Her other hand moves to her lips, her teeth sinking into the knuckle of her index finger to muffle herself. In response, your finger curls inside of her. She keens, her eyes rolling back as she shoves her hips forward.

"Don't do that," you chide, pumping against the spongy walls of her cunt. "I want everyone to hear how good I'm gonna fuck you."

Her gaze peeks through her lashes, blinking in surprise at the vulgarity of your statement. She's beautifully flushed and the image is seared into your mind. Your ring finger presses inside of her and she gasps, finally removing her hand from her mouth.

"Don't be mean," Villanelle mewls and you can't stop the smile tugging at your lips.

By now, the windows have fogged over in the car. The air between you has risen at least ten degrees higher and you match Villanelle's ragged panting, hyperfocused on every expression she makes. Her hair fans out like a golden halo, illuminating her furrowed brows and parted lips. You want to kiss her, but you instead settle for swiping your thumb across her clit.

Villanelle's chest heaves when you suddenly piston your fingers inside her. She sloppily pushes down to meet your thrusts while her head lolls back against the car seat. By the way her walls fluttered against your sheathed digits, you knew her orgasm was imminent.

James Fitzgerald's departure was also imminent.

Suddenly, the flash of headlights appears in your peripheral vision. A midsized sedan rushes past the front of your rental car. James is driving while his guest in question is in the passenger seat. Your eyes go wide; the memory of exactly why you and Villanelle were here to begin with hits you like a truck.

You withdraw your fingers from Villanelle's pussy and she cries out in both confusion and frustration. Scrambling, she pulls the seat back up so she can properly glower at you.

"What the fuck?" She yells, softening only slightly as she watches you suck your fingers clean before putting the car in drive.

"It's James," you start, pressing the defogger button near the bottom of the dashboard. "I'm gonna tail him."

"I was about to cum!"

You glance at Villanelle quickly as she complains, tossing a cocky smirk in her direction.

"I guess you'll just have to wait then."

#villanelle #villanelle x reader #villanelle x you #villanelle smut #villanelle imagine #oksana astankova #oksana astankova x reader #killing eve #lesbian #wlw #lgbtq #smut #fanfiction #fanfic

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