#villanelle imagine

[seethesin]

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."

[inklore]

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.  

[rottenimagines]

Midnight Stalker

Summary: a sad Villanelle sneaks into your bed in the middle of the night.

(Little disclaimer: English is not my native language, but I try my best, I promise x.)  

.

.

On any given night, while you are sleeping peacefully in your bed, a strange noise wakes you up. At first, you think it was just your imagination and close your eyes again, until, all of sudden, a hot breath hits the back of your neck and someone wraps their arms around your waist...

.

.

You sit up immediately and turn on the nightstand light.

Next, a cry of surprise escapes your lips.

‘‘What are you doing here?!’’

Villanelle is there, lying next to you; looking directly into your eyes with a scowl on her face; as if you were the one bothering her!

‘‘Why are you being so dramatic? You should be glad to see me,’’ she rolls her eyes and sighs. ‘‘I didn't come to kill you, Y/n. At least, not yet.’’ 

You look her up and down: she's wearing a dark gray two-piece suit. Although it does not seem that she hides any weapons under it, you can never tell with that woman.

‘‘I'll ask again. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?’’

Villanelle rolls her eyes again as she sits up right in front of you. Her face dangerously close to yours. Actually, she seems very tired, almost like she's...sad?

‘‘What? Can't a girl spend a night with her best friend?’’

You sigh and rub your sleepy eyes. Next, you speak in the most assertive way you can manage at this point, trying to keep your composure so as not to make her angry.

‘‘Villanelle, I've told you a million times. We are not friends. We are... nothing. And you can't break into my home in the middle of the night just like that!’’

She looks around the bedroom, as if your little scolding was boring her to death. 

Her voice is slightly drier as she speaks again.

‘‘Oh please, Y/n. Don't be such a killjoy. I could have come to kill you instead, wouldn't that be worse?’’

Before she gets you a chance to response, she is already wrapping her arms around your shoulders and makes you lie down again. She snuggles with you, like a baby. You have her blonde hair in your face now. All of this is too surreal to be true.

...

‘‘Villanelle... what are you doing?’’

‘‘I know, so cute, isn't it? This is called cuddling. People do it when they're in love, or at least, when they're close. You know, for besties like us.’’ She teases with a hint of playfulness in her voice.

You spend the next few minutes very still, staring at the ceiling, with her body against yours.

...

‘‘...Villanelle?’’

‘‘Hmm?’’

‘‘You... okay? I mean, you look...’’ you clear your throat, ‘‘well... you look a bit tired.’’

There is an awkward silence. 

Villanelle takes a deep breath before speaking again.

‘‘I'm all but fine, actually. Tired, confused, frustrated...’’ She raises her head off your chest to stare at you. Hers gaze remains as dead and distant as always.

 ‘‘And... I have a really strong urge to kiss you, right now.’’

There it is: Villanelle and her ability to leave people speechless with her ‘out of place’ comments.

You look down at her face as if to say ��are you serious?’, to which she responds by nodding very slowly with a mocking pity face.

‘‘Oh, I see. And... you see yourself able to control it?’’ This time it is you who teases her.

‘‘Nop. I don’t think so.’’

And, in a flash, you have her on you, kissing you. At first, it is gently but, feeling not resistance from you, she increases the intensity. She holds your head strongly as she pulls you even closer to her.

 The feeling of her tongue in your mouth is more than enough to snap you out of your trance; so after a few seconds, you push her away abruptly.

A little flash of annoyance creeps over her face.

‘‘Come on, Y/n, you obviously like it! You must have felt something. Don't lie to yourself. Just admit you want more.’’ She whispers in a seductive tone of voice, bringing her mouth closer to yours.

‘‘Villanelle, no offense, but right now you're just the crazy stalker who just broke into my home in the middle of the night... You understand how weird this all is?’’

She rolls her eyes and pulls back. She definitely is thinking you're being a pain in the ass right now. 

‘‘And you’re the boring one who didn't call the police or shoot me, or anything. You just stayed in your bed, shaking in fear and letting me do whatever I want with you.’’

She enjoys watching your startled face at her words, because, worst of all is that she's right... 

What the hell were you thinking?

You jump out of your bed instantly and gesture for her to leave.

‘‘Get out of my home. Now’’ You try to speak with confidence, but everything is so ridiculous that you barely sound convincing to yourself.

The smirk on her face goes wider.

‘‘What, so suddenly you find your voice?’’ She mocks.

‘‘I’m serious, Villanelle. You have 10 seconds to get your ass out of my bed or I’ll call the police.’’

Although you start counting out loud, she stays right where she was, looking straight into your eyes with her annoying smug smirk.

‘‘Go ahead, I'm waiting...’’

You glare at her, skeptical. What the hell is she up to now? 

‘‘I just want to know if you'll actually do it or not. So...’’ She encourages you with a wave of her hand.

Her eyes gleam with excitement when she sees how you don't move a muscle.

‘‘And I thought I was the weirdo here...’’ She keeps trying to provoke you.

At last, you step up towards the phone, waiting for her to do something to stop you; but she doesn't.

 You grab it and start dialing the number, but not before giving Villanelle a last warning look. 

She keeps watching you from your bed, impassive. She is trying to see if you actually have the guts to go through with it.

'Your last chance', you whisper to her with the phone already in your ear. But she doesn't move, she doesn't speak. Her eyes tell you all that there is to say: 'go ahead'.

.

.

.

Finally, you end up hanging up the phone with a frustrated grunt. She gets away with it, as usual. 

Villanelle's face lights up with wicked excitement as you put the phone back where it was.

‘‘Ha! I knew it! I knew you like me so much!’’

You roll your eyes at her. 

‘‘Look, you want to stay? Fine; stay. But you have to promise me that you'll be good.’’

She raises an eyebrow. ‘‘Define ‘good’ ’’

 ‘‘Don’t kill me in my sleep.’’

Villanelle nods, as if she was really considering all this as something serious.

‘‘I can promise no killing... for now. Deal?’’ She smiles like a happy little girl.

You look her up and down once more.

‘‘First, show me that you don't have any hidden weapons.’’

She gives you a mock offended face as, reluctantly, gets out of your bed and opens her jacket for you; showing no hidden weapons under it.

‘‘... Happy?’’

You ignore her and start frisking her from head to toe, to which she responds with a snort.

‘‘Do I have to ... you know, remove my clothes too?’’ She scoffs, but her mischievous mood quickly fades when sees how you keep frisking her in silent.

‘‘Y/n, believe me; if I wanted you dead, you'd be already dead.’’

You keep ignoring her.

Once you’ve made sure she doesn't have any hidden weapons, you go back to your bed, quietly.

Villanelle stands there for a second, then she takes off her jacket and lays down next to you, just like before, with a small, playful smirk on her face.

‘‘I won't kill you, I swear.’’ She whispers in your ear as wraps your waist, holding you close.

She waits for a moment to see if you’ll continue speaking, then speaks up herself again. 

‘‘Isn't this nice? No killing, no guns, no knives... nothing dirty at all. Just us, the bed and nothing else.’’

‘‘Oh yes, quite a fairy tale... Now, sleep!’’ 

‘‘I’m trying...’’ she rests her head on your chest and closes her eyes. ‘‘Your heartbeat is ... loud.’’

 At last, it seems like she starts to nod off. 

‘‘It's like a drum...’’

 Her voice is soft and sleepy, barely above a whisper now. You're not sure if she's even talking to you specifically anymore.

‘‘...Can you feel my heartbeat too? Hmmm... 

My heart's beating just for you...’’

[upat4amwiththemoon]

I havé no idea if I asked this already but if I did I apologize😭 Could you do a villanelle x readers where the reader already has a child from a previous relationship please?

A package deal

Summary: It’s either both of us or neither of us.

Pairing: Villanelle x fem!reader, fem!reader x daughter

Warnings: none

Word count: 667

a/n: short and sweet

Tags: @sayah13

masterlists | guidelines

“Are you excited to meet her, bubs?” Y/N smiles to the small girl of five she is holding on her hip as she walks down the busy street.

The small child holds onto Y/N’s shoulder, her eyes wandering around all the different people walking past them. She’s always been curious about her surroundings. “Yes, mama.”

She lets out a shaky breath, giving her daughter a small smile. She’s glad to see her happy and clearly more confident than she is feeling. Y/N is absolutely terrified. Villanelle knows she has a daughter, she’s more worried about her changing her mind, deciding that raising her girlfriend’s daughter would be too much.

“Okay, bubs.” Y/N slows down her steps as she sees the right cafe in front of her. “Do you think Villanelle is already there? Maybe she’s just as nervous as us.” She’s glad she can use her daughter as an excuse to talk things through out loud.

The small bell rings when Y/N opens the door. It’s a small family owned cafe, one filled with books and flowers.

“There she is.” She whispers, pointing at the blonde sitting at the corner table. Taking a one last deep breath, “let’s go,” she walks to the table. “Hi, honey.”

Villanelle stands up the instant she hears Y/N’s voice. “Hi.” Her eyes are wide, moving between her girlfriend and the small girl in her arms. “Hey, should- should I hug you?” Her already strong accent is even stronger now.

With a giggle, Y/N sets her daughter down on a chair, pulling Villanelle into a short but warm embrace. Then she lifts the girl again, “this is Villanelle. Remember when I told you about her, bubs? She’s mama’s girlfriend.”

“Hi, ‘nelle.”

Somehow Villanelle’s eyes widens even more, and a bright smile grows on her face. “Hey. Aren’t you a cute one?” She takes hold of her small hand, giving it a shake.

“Mhm.” The girl giggles, kicking her feet in the air.

Y/N smiles as they all sit down. “I already ordered.” Villanelle states from the lack of drink menus. “I hope that’s okay. I know what you like, and you- you’ve told what your kid likes so…so I ordered for her too. We can order something else if she ends up not liking it-“

“Villanelle.” Y/N reaches over the table, taking hold of the woman’s hand. She finds her nervousness endearing, especially since Villanelle is usually the confident one. “It’s okay, I trust you to order for us.” She giggles.

She lets out a breath. Of relief most likely, but she’ll never admit to being nervous. “Mama loves you.” The small girl speaks up after their food and drinks have been brought over.

“I love your mama too.”

Giggling, she looks up at Y/N. “I love mama too.”

Y/N gasps, nuzzling her nose against her daughter’s cheek. “And I love you.” She murmurs, her gaze moving between her daughter and girlfriend. “You know we’re a package deal, right?” She gives her daughter a colouring book with some crayons to keep her occupied while she has a more serious conversation.

“I know that.”

“If you don’t want to be part of her life, if you don’t like her or if she doesn’t like you, if you hurt her in any way…I’m out.” Villanelle listens to her words in silence. “I will trust her word over yours, because I will not allow my daughter to grow up in fear.”

“I know.”

Y/N swallows, tapping her nails against the table lightly. “So what does that mean to you?”

“It means you’re a great mother,” she takes hold of her hand, “and I would love to be part of your family.”

A smile grows on her face. Y/N squeezes her hand, giggling when a third, smaller hand joins the pile. Her daughter starts giggling too, it’s full of joy, and it’s just the sign that Y/N needs to know this’ll work.

[xoluvx]

I havé no idea if I asked this before but can you do a villanelle x reader where the reader has a 3 year old daughter from a previous relationship? Thanks!

ugh villanelle i miss her 🥹

“Oh-“ you heard Villanelle from the kitchen “-my god,” she exclaimed and you had to go out there to see what was happening. You marveled at the sight. Your daughter and your girlfriend on the couch.

Villanelle was pushed to the edge of the couch wedged near the arm rest, one leg slightly raised as she looked up curiously at your small daughter who stood on the couch hovering over her. She was waving a toy making noise and Villanelle looked truly horrified or amused, you couldn’t really tell.

“Everything okay?” You asked wiping your wet hands on the apron you were wearing.

“Yeah, she was showing me her-“ Villanelle glanced at you waving at the small girl “-instrument of sorts.” She cleared her throat getting up from the couch walking towards you.

“You okay?” You asked touching her arm. You never knew if Villanelle liked your daughter. She’d been shocked when you mentioned it. Contemplated continuing pursuing you, but ultimately liked you too much to let go. Being in the same space as your daughter, alone, was something she was still getting used to.

You felt a tug at your pants and looked down. “Hi,” you cooed picking up your baby. She replied with a hi and then a string of words that didn’t quite make sense together. Villanelle couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was a smile from within, one that was warm. This is what she loved. You in your element. She kissed your cheek catching you off guard when she placed a kiss on the top of your daughter’s head while cradling it. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

[enfantlunaire]

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 | being married for three years with your husband but falling in love with your coworker Villanelle.

Both of you were sitting on the rug, face to face while music was playing in the background. The incense was burning on your coffee table giving a peaceful atmosphere to the living-room.

« Don't... Villanelle.

— Why? I know you want it too. She whispered as she slowly put her hot palms against the back of your neck, bringing you shivers from head to toe. You were so close together that you could smell Villanelle's perfume; floral and woody, perfect combo. — I know you feel the way I do. I know you feel this attraction too. You can't deny it. She added.

— I... I... It is... you stammered.

— Right, let me help. She cut you off. She placed her hand against your jaw. She pulled you toward her. And kissed you. She kissed you. And you kissed her. And she kissed you. And you kissed her. And she kept kissing you back. All over and over again.

「 english isn’t my mother tongue, do not hesitate to leave a comment if you see some mistakes, thx! 」

[bi-bard]

So I Will Not Ask Where You Came From - Villanelle Imagine [Killing Eve]

Title: So I Will Not Ask Where You Came From

Pairing: Villanelle X Reader

Based On: Like Real People Do

Word Count: 655 words

Warning(s): none that I can tell

Summary: Like any other couple, Villanelle and (Y/n) had an arrangement that worked for them. Villanelle did her work and (Y/n) gave her a place to eat, shower, and relax. (Y/n) didn't ask any questions and Villanelle offered them attention and affection. A perfectly balanced relationship.

Author's Note: God... I am so bi.

HOZIER [2014] WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

I was woken up by the door opening and closing.

I rolled over and looked at the clock before just closing my eyes again. It was late, I was tired, and I knew who it was.

My assumptions were confirmed when the weight on the mattress shifted. I felt an arm wrap around my torso and lips press to the skin of my jaw.

"I can tell that you're awake," Villanelle muttered into my ear.

I rolled onto my back, forcing her to lean back enough to make room. "How was your trip?"

Trip.

That's what I called them.

Those work trips that she went on that always conveniently happened just after she got a new postcard from her dad. I wasn't blind. Our brains are trained to see patterns and that was one of the most obvious patterns I had ever seen.

"Good, good," she nodded. "Quick."

I grinned. "Good."

When I first noticed the pattern, I assumed that she was cheating on me. But once I caught sight of the writing on a few of the postcards, I knew it was something different.

I didn't understand fully. I don't think I ever would.

Mostly because I didn't want to know.

It was so much easier to turn a blind eye to it all. It was so much easier to deal with her coming back to me late at night and never questioning where she had been.

She seemed happier with that arrangement too.

What I had was enough for me to hold onto this pretty little world that I had. The affection and company were enough for me. They call them rose-colored glasses for a reason.

I had spent a long time feeling completely isolated from everyone around me. I felt like I was a ghost. I didn't have anything solid to hold onto. I was just... there.

But with Villanelle, I didn't feel like that. I actually felt like I was wanted somewhere. By someone.

I don't know why she stayed with me.

I don't know what I offered her that was enough for her to keep coming back.

I stopped thinking about stuff like that after a while. I had asked her once, but I didn't get a straight answer. I saw no point in dwelling on questions that I wouldn't get answers to. Especially when I was happy. Why try to ruin a good thing?

Villanelle leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips. I hummed as I kissed her back.

I pulled away a few moments later to look up at her. I caught sight of a cut on her cheek. I furrowed my eyebrows before reaching up to touch her face. I barely touched the skin under the wound.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded. "It's nothing."

"You're hurt-"

"It's nothing," she repeated. She looked at the clock. "You should get back to bed. You are very cranky in the morning when you don't sleep enough."

"Fuck you," I chuckled, playfully hitting her arm.

She smirked at me. "In the morning."

A stunned scoff escaped my lips.

She moved to lie down next to me. I looked at her, watching her shrug with that smirk remaining stuck to her face.

I rolled over to face her.

"Sleep," she instructed.

I reached out and pulled her back over to me. She let me wrap my arms around her and hide my face in her neck.

She let out a quiet sigh as she wrapped her arms around me again.

These were the moments when I knew my blindness was worth it. I had no care for what she did outside of my door. All I cared about was that she came back to me.

All I wanted was this feeling.

All I needed was her.

I would like to believe that she needed me to.

I would like to believe that's why she didn't mind me never asking questions.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[the-fandom-abyss]

Prompt: here

First Sentence Prompt

Stumbling into a perfect stranger was not how you expected your morning to go. Items strewn across the footpath and prior thought forgotten, landed you in the arms of a stranger. With an embarrassed blink, the world came rushing back in sight. The woman looked down at you, firm arms holding you in place.

It would be in this moment where a word would be uttered, an apology jumbled, and it was like time slowed. Eyes locked together, playing a game of chicken, waiting for the other to break. The stare was intense, like the woman above was trying to figure you out.

“I’m Villanelle” she stated, voice strong yet monotone. Not once did her eyes divert to the chatter around her.

“Y/N” was a meek response, clearly overwhelmed and entranced. Villanelle nodded, using her strength to lift you to your feet. Her hands never left your body as they held you firmly in place. She observed you once more.

“You really should be careful, you never know who you might run into” her accent was thick, but that didn’t stop you from feeling a wave of unease. There was a tone underneath the words that made you feel that this was not the person, you want to run into.

[very-uncorrect]

....

sam and max Killing Eve au

[locolesbianwp]

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?"

[alrightyfruits]

au where misty and nat from yellow jackets and villanelle and eve from killing eve meet

[unsociable-and-taciturn]

remember when in killing eve konstantin misspells eve’s last name and says “polassi” then villanelle proceeds to correct him. now, there is this polari (which is also only one letter apart from polastri) language that was widely used for queer coding some time ago and just imagine what kind of a multilayered reference it could’ve been…

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Can I request mom!villaneve where r and villanelle are arguing but they’re arguing in a different language and eve is just standing there and villanelle like can you believe what she just said and eve is just confused

Bilingual beauties

Summary: Eve tends to stay out of her wife and daughter’s fights, because usually they happen in Russian.

Pairing: VillanEve x daughter!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 344

a/n: I didn’t want to use google translator this much, so whatever is in italics is spoken in Russian!

masterlists | guidelines

”I don’t get why you have to be such a fun killer!” Y/N shouts at Villanelle, her brows scrunched together and eyes glaring holes into her mother.

Villanelle gasps, slapping her hand against her chest, ”me? A fun killer?” She quickly glances at Eve who is staring at the two with raised brows. ”how can I be the fun killer, when I’m the more exciting parent, huh?”

Y/N lets out a sound that’s a mix of a laugh and a scoff. “You’re always nagging at me! Y/N don’t do that. Y/N, you’re not going out in that outfit. No sleepovers allowed.” She changes her voice to match Villanelle’s, of course, it’s more mocking than realistic. “Eve is the fun mom. She actually lets me leave this hell hole.”

”This isn’t a hell hole! This is a nice apartment that I chose.” She turns to Eve, looking for back up, but the older woman just shrugs, not understanding a word coming from either of their mouths. With a dissatisfied huff, Villanelle crosses her arms over her chest. “Excuse me for thinking about your safety. You going to a party with people I don’t know, is not safe.”

”You mean people who you haven’t thoroughly background checked and stalked.”

”Yes!” She throws her hands in the air, as if that is what normal parents do.

Y/N’s head goes back as she groans. ”You’re so annoying.” She starts jogging up the stairs.

”Go to your room!”

”Already going.” She stomps her feet harder, making her feelings very clear.

”And don’t you come out of there.”

”I wasn’t going to!” Is the last thing Y/N shouts before slamming her room’s door shut.

Villanelle whispers Russian curses under her breath, annoyed she didn’t get the last word. “Can you believe her?” She scoffs, looking at Eve with wide eyes

Shaking her head, Eve stares as her wife walks out of the room. Her lips are in a thin line. “I need to get a dictionary.” She mumbles with a sigh, rubbing her forehead.

[xoluvx]

Can I get a villanelle prompt 12 please? Maybe she’s talking to her teen daughter or reader?

oh gosh this prompt list is old but mommy villanelle .. yes 🌷

"where do you think you're going?" villanelle got up from the table when she caught a look of her child. you followed closely behind looking over her shoulder at the scene.

"there's nothing wrong with this," the teen exclaimed looking down at her outfit. "mom said it was fine, she bought it for me." she continued her argument as villanelle turned to look at you.

"what is she saying?" she looked at you incredulously, wide eyed. she couldn't believe her daughter was lying like this.

except she wasn't. you may have green-lit the outfit, but you didn't think villanelle was going to react like this. "you’re not going out in that outfit.” she said turning to the teen. "absolutely not," her eyes widened with seriousness. "you're a baby," she added with a firm voice.

"ugh, i'm not a baby-" the teen whined stomping her foot.

"just put a jacket on," you said placing a hand on villanelle's shoulder trying to be on her side. you felt bad. for both of them. 'i'm sorry,' you mouthed to the teen hoping villanelle hadn't seen.

"and some pants," villanelle added before watching the teen groan and stomp up the stairs again.

[nyan-bynary]

The urge to rewatch hannibal was suffocating me so naturally I

Started watching killing eve for the first time and 2 episodes in I'm really digging it

[marauderssocialistutopia]

yk all this space in my brain that i can consciously fill with some ??thoughts???

this is all wolfstar in killing eve au

all. of it.

the rest is smh going on autopilot idc, thank you thats it