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wandanatsgf · 2 months

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Masterlist

WandaNat x Reader

Sugar, Sugar AU

Part 1 Part 2

summary: After losing your job, you are desperate to come up with some money. Your best friend Kate signs you up for a sugar baby app where you meet Wanda and Natasha, who eventually become your sugar mommies.

Wanda x Reader

While You Were Sleeping

summary: You work for the transit authority as an attendant in NYC where you see glimpses of Natasha everyday as she waits for the subway. You slowly gain a crush on the woman and fantasize about crazy things like marrying her or being in love with her, but you know realistically that would never happen. It’s just a way for you to pass the time. One day while waiting for the subway Natasha is mugged and left unconscious, which leads to a case of mistaken identity at the hospital where they assume that you are Natasha’s fiancée. You become caught up in everything and become too scared to tell the truth. Pretty soon you're hanging out with Natasha's family, but the longer you hang out with them, the more you fall in love with them, and especially one person in particular.

Right Where You Left Me

summary: Wanda is your maid who you fall head over heels for. But like all good things, you knew it wouldn't last. You knew your life was already decided for you, but that didn't mean you couldn't enjoy your time with her while it lasts.

Why Won't You Love Me

summary: You can tell your relationship is falling apart, but maybe there's still some hope for it.

Pray and I Shall Answer Thee Part 1

summary: Night after night you pray to the goddess of love with no response. After years of doing so with no answer, you become an unbeliever. Only after you have forsaken her does she make you a believer again.

Pray and I Shall Answer Thee Part 2

summary: You wait for months for Wanda to return, and yet she never shows. Now you're determined to get over her, but a certain goddess won't allow that.

Natasha x Reader

Scream

summary: After the gruesome murder of your fellow classmates, Jean and Charles, everyone is on high alert. The police tell everyone to stay inside, but your friends decide a party is just what you all need. It's not like the killer will be there, right?

If You're Gonna Lie

summary: you know she's cheating, but you'd rather hear her lies than leave her

Kate Bishop x Reader

Taking Care of Her

summary: Kate comes home after a rough mission and you take care of her

Villanelle x Reader

Date Night & Murder

summary: What a date night between two assassins looks like

#wandanat x reader #marvel #mcu #masterlist #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #villanelle x reader #killing Eve

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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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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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rottenimagines · 1 year

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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...’’

#villanelle #villanelle x reader #villanelle one shot #villanelle imagine #villanelle imagines #killing eve #killing eve x reader #killing eve imagine #jodie comer #oksana #oksana astankova

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enfantlunaire · 8 months

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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! 」

#killing eve #killing eve imagine #killing eve gif #killing eve villanelle #villanelle #villanelle imagine #villanelle x reader #jodie comer #woman x woman #gif imagine #imagines

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multifandomfix · 8 months

Text

Mirror, Mirror — Villanelle

Summary: You’re an assassin who wears a mask to hide your identity and insecurity. But Villanelle shows you just how beautiful you are.

Word Count: 1,675

Warnings: Female!Reader, slight knife kink, mirror sex, fingering

Villanelle took in the horrors of the blood covered alleyway. With the rain, most of it would wash away by morning before anyone would have the chance to see what had gone down here. But clean up was not what she was worried about. What she wanted to know is how someone had gotten to her target before she had, and more importantly, who.

As she surveyed the scene, her blonde hair was becoming plastered to her face as the sky poured its large, heavy raindrops. Then she saw you, bent over, reaching for something on the ground. Her eyes were trained on your every move. Feeling eyes on your form, you looked up, meeting a woman's gaze. You knew who she was, and you needed to go. Now. You took off down the alleyway, trying to keep your footing while dodging puddles and avoiding the slick stones that paved your escape route.

"Hey," Villanelle called after you. She’d only wanted to talk, get to know you. You'd made her job easier and that intrigued her. She was fast, but there was no way she’d catch up with the weather and your head start. Fine, she’d just see what you left behind.

What she picked up was far from anything she could have expected. It was a mask made of black and white marbled porcelain, spotted with the blood of your kill. You’d worn it, hadn’t you? But why?

You continued to sprint through the streets and alleyways, your heart racing as the sound of Villanelle's voice faded into the distance behind you. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, and your mind races to piece together the events that have unfolded tonight. The mask you had dropped had been a careless mistake, a slip that you couldn’t have accounted for.

As you finally emerge from your zigzagged path to a busy street, you pause to catch your breath, your chest heaving. The rain continues to pour, soaking you to the bone. You needed somewhere to stay and get dry. You looked next to you. A hotel. Perfect.

It was one of those ritzy ones, with chandeliers and rooms with hot tubs. You could work with that. You needed the rest after the extended effort and toll the night had taken. Even as you check in, you can't shake the feeling that Villanelle is still out there, combing the streets for any trace of you. She was clever. She’d be searching.

Meanwhile, Villanelle still stood in the rain soaked alleyway, her eyes fixated on the mask you had left behind. A slow, dangerous smile curled at the corners of her lips. She's not one to back down from a challenge, and you have certainly intrigued her. With a determined glint in her eyes, she begins her hunt, determined to track you down.

Days pass in a tense blur as you hide in the confines of your hotel room, waiting out the clock. Surely Villanelle would leave town now that her target had been disposed of. She’d get a new assignment and be halfway across the world, her memory of you nearly forgotten. In a week, you’d be safe, and could leave this city yourself.

Then, one evening, there's a knock at your hotel room door. Your room service had already come and gone an hour ago. Your heart skips a beat as you tense up, every nerve on edge. Slowly, cautiously, you approach the door and peer through the peephole. It's her. Villanelle. "I know you’re in there. I just want to see your face."

"No," you’re quick to deny her.

"But I've been looking for you," she says casually, as if it's the most ordinary thing in the world. "You are a hard one to find. I like that about you. Can I come in? Promise I won’t bite."

You stifled a chuckle. You’d heard she was funny. Part of you was glad to know it was true. Taking a deep breath, you’re able to find your voice again. "What do you want from me?"

"You left your mask. Thought I should bring it back to you. It’s clean. The rain washed away most of the blood. The rest I wiped away myself." She was practically shouting at your doorway. You didn’t need all your secrets given away to the hotel's guests, so you grabbed another mask, put it on and opened the door, letting her in.

Why did she care, a part of you wondered. Then again, you’d never been able to speak about it to anyone. So here you are, faced with a decision. Do you lie or confess? Something about Villanelle tells you that she wouldn’t fall for a lie, no matter how convincing.

"I wear masks to hide my scars," you admit, your voice kept low out of shame. "I've always been self conscious about them."

Villanelle's eyes narrow slightly as she processes your words. She steps closer, her presence almost overwhelming you. "Scars are not something to be ashamed of," she says softly, surprising you with an unexpected empathy. "They tell a story, a history. They are beautiful in their own way." Then she raises a hand to your masked face. "I want to see them."

Her words hang in the air as you try and take them in. Villanelle, a ruthless assassin, sees something in your scars that you never could. A strange mixture of emotions swirl within you. You let her take off your mask. "See? Beautiful. Just like I told you."

You shake your head, wishing for the security of the mask once more. "No. You’re wrong. They’re hideous. I'm hideous."

Before you can protest further, Villanelle swiftly turns you around, your back now pressed to her front, and she pulls out a knife. You gasp at the suddenness of her actions as the blade makes it’s first contact with your neck. "I don’t like to be told I'm wrong." Her voice is right in your ear and it sends a shiver through you.

Villanelle's grip on the knife tightens slightly against your throat as she begins to guide you toward the set of three full length dressing mirrors in your room. When you stand before the mirror, your scars are illuminated by the soft light, and you can't help but flinch at the sight of them. Villanelle's reflection stands behind you, her presence a commanding force that's impossible to ignore.

Her gaze sweeps over you, and you can't help but feel exposed beneath her scrutiny. The knife moves away from your neck, no longer pressing against skin, but still she held you, an arm around your robed waist. You didn’t dare make a move. "Look. Look at yourself, your beauty." You resisted. "You want to be difficult? I will prove it to you another way."

With the dull edge of the blade, Villanelle came down with the knife, opening your robe in her descent down your body, turning the blade only to slice the tie open. The robe fell open and exposed more of you to her. It’s mission accomplished, Villanelle cast aside the knife and it landed on the plush bed several feet away. "Do you want me to stop," she asked, fingers reaching for the shoulders of the robe, ready to take it all the way off. "I’m going to need an answer."

"Don’t stop," you uttered, the words coming out all breathy and flustered, but your answer was clear enough. She pulled the robe off your shoulders and took in the full sight of you once more, using the mirror as her guide for how and where to touch you.

Her hand roamed down your chest, stopping to play with the soft flesh of it, before continuing its path downward. As the tips of her fingers reached your pelvis, you adjusted your stance so that your legs were parted for her. Your back pressed more firmly to Villanelle as her fingers dipped inside of you. A gasp made you take your eyes off of the mirror.

"Ah, ah," Villanelle scolded. "I need you to watch, to view yourself the way I see you." It took all of the effort you had, but you watched through half lidded eyes while Villanelle worked you over. She rubbed her hand against your most sensitive of spots and you pressed your weight against her, seeking even more of the delicious friction.

"Look how pretty and pink your cheeks flush when my fingers press into you," she said when your eyes started to close again. They snapped back open and you looked in the mirror again, fearing she’d stop if you didn’t keep watching. With a satisfied grin, Villanelle tilted her head, kissing down along the soft skin of your neck. "You are beautiful," she affirmed between kisses. "I want to hear you say it."

"…I am beautiful," you whispered, not even meeting your own gaze in the reflective glass.

"More conviction. Say it as I bring you to your climax, hmm?" You nodded. "Good." She then plunged her fingers deeper into you, causing you to almost let out a scream. Her other hand came up from your waist and grabbed your breast, using the extra stimulation to bring you along, right to the edge.

"You are close. Say it now for me. Make me believe it or I won’t let you come."

"I—I am beautiful," you said, the words pouring from your mouth like a mantra. This time you were loud, assertive, you’d almost entirely convinced yourself of the truth of your words. Almost. And then she brought you to your release. You nearly collapsed against her, but Villanelle's arms held you up. You were spent, and covered in a fine layer of sweat from the intensity of your orgasm. Villanelle helped you lower yourself gently to the floor.

Taking your chin in her hand, she angled your face to the mirror once more. "I never want you to forget or doubt your beauty. Not ever again or I will give you a truly ugly scar."

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @rukia-28, @malfoyfeed

Villanelle: @victoraisawonder, @countqss, @thenazwife

#villanelle #villanelle one shot #villanelle x reader #killing eve #killing eve one shot #request #send requests #requests open

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 2 years

Text

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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bi-bard · 1 year

Text

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.

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

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#villanelle imagine #villanelle x reader #villanelle fanfiction #killing eve fanfiction #killing eve x reader #killing eve imagine #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

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zamoimagines · 2 years

Text

Physical Affection w/ Villanelle (Headcanons)

A/N: I've only watched up until season 2, but I needed to do this bc it spoke to me spiritually. If ya'll don't agree with this take, then it's totally cool just let a lesbian have a fUCKING MOMENT

*✧･ﾟDespite her being a highly skilled assassin, you can look up the word touch starved in the dictionary and see her pic in that fuckin book

*✧･ﾟNo one ever shows her affection, that was until you two met and started seeing each other

*✧･ﾟSo when it comes to you, she is never not touching you

*✧･ﾟAlways wants to hold your hand and likes to brush your skin with her fingers

*✧･ﾟShe secretly loves hugs when they come from you, specifically after she's had a long day and she's least expecting one

*✧･ﾟ like she practically melts into your arms bc she loves being so close to you

*✧･ﾟ If you guys are sitting next to each other, she always has one arm around your shoulders

*✧･ﾟ loves to pull you in by your waist to close the gap between you both

*✧･ﾟalso loves to pet over your neck and play with your hair at any given point

*✧･ﾟ She makes it a habit to come up and hug you from behind if you're in the kitchen making a drink/cooking and will rest her chin in the small of your neck while you do whatever it is you're doing

*✧･ﾟIf you two are on the couch, she'll pull you in so you can rest your head on her chest so she can hear your heartbeat

*✧･ﾟ Or vice versa, she loves it when she gets to put her head in your lap and even lets you pet over her head bc you know exactly how gentle she likes it

*✧･ﾟHer favorite thing ever is getting to cuddle you in bed right before you guys fall asleep

*✧･ﾟ She prefers being the big spoon, but she'll settle for little spoon if you ask

*✧･ﾟ Her preferred cuddle position is to be right behind you and holding your waist with one of her legs tangled in between yours, and as always, her face is right up against the small of your neck bc the smell of your perfume/whatever scent you use helps her fall asleep

*✧･ﾟAnd when you wake up, if you try to move, she'll only pull you in closer and tighter and almost pout

*✧･ﾟ like a little grumble and would say something like "No, don't go just yet. Stay here with me a little longer."

*✧･ﾟjust the world's biggest cuddle bug and no one would ever know it

REQUEST MORE HEADCANONS HERE!

#villanelle x reader #oksanna x reader #killing eve #killing eve imagine #jodie comer #wlw #gn!reader #requests are open!

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bonniebird · 1 year

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Villianelle Oksana x Reader

Requested by Anon

Valentine event

Support me on Ko-fi

Make a request

Request: Anonymous asked:Villianelle Oksana #valentine 2023 with prompt "I don’t care anymore."

Read on Wattpad

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You doubled over as you tried to catch your breath. She stopped for a moment as if she wanted you to keep running, as if it was no longer fun to chase you unless you were willing to be chased.

“Well. Go on then!” She called out. You watched her carefully, only moving backwards when she moved forwards.

“I am not moving any further.” you gasped as you held your aching side.

“But there is no fun in that! What am I supposed to do with the rest of my day?” She asked as if you were the one being unreasonable

"I don’t care anymore." You said as you straightened up. You felt dizzy and braced yourself on the low wall next to you. She’d chased you towards a river and you were now on either end of a bridge over it. A few people walked past but no one stopped to intervene with the two of you. Maybe you just looked like a couple arguing. As you stood upright now, the stitch in your side easing as you caught your breath you felt the world tip and the next thing you knew you had fallen off the side of the bridge into the water.

“See that is more fun!” She called after you. Waiting as someone on a boat helped you out of the water and you insisted that you were being chased she looked around and spotted a boat for hire. By the time she’d gotten to it, the boat that had rescued you was gone. She’d have to hunt you down again but that was the fun of it really. Wasn’t it?

Villanelle tags;

@the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn @evattude

#villanelle #villanelle x reader #bonniebird #valentine2023

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wandanatsgf · 2 months

Text

Date Night & Murder

Pairing: Villanelle x Reader

Word Count: 691

Summary: What a date night between two assassins looks like

“Oh come on,” you hear your girlfriend, Villanelle, say. Crimson liquid seeps out of your latest victim and onto the floor. It stains her new boots. “I just bought these.”

“I’ll buy you another pair baby,” you say, soothing her over for now. You look around the now dead man’s apartment, making sure you left no evidence.

“Oh please you owe me more than just a pair of boots. I’d like three…and maybe some drinks.”

“Fine,” you agree, not wanting to argue with the blonde woman. You double check everything before making your way to the fire escape. You climb down, making sure Villanelle is right behind you.

“Now come on, we need to go so we can change before the movie. I want to have the best seats,” Villanelle says once the two of you are on the ground.

“Of course you do. You only want the best. The best food, the best clothes, the best wine,” you ramble on, teasing her.

“I think you’re forgetting the most important one baby. I wanted the best girl and now I’ve got her.”

You can feel your heart melt for the woman.

“We’ll I can definitely say you got her and you got her forever.”

The two of you quickly walk back to your shared apartment. After quickly showering and changing, the two of you walk hand in hand out the door and towards the theater.

The walk there is rather peaceful, which surprises you considering who you're walking with.

"Ok you get the snacks and I'll get the tickets," your girlfriend says as you walk through the doors.

"Ok," you agree. You wait in line for the food and decide on a large popcorn and two soft drinks for the two of you. Just as you finish paying, your girlfriend walks up to you with the tickets in her hand. She takes the popcorn and her drink from you and hands you your ticket. You look down at your ticket and a look of confusion sets across your face.

“Oksana. You said this was going to be an action adventure movie. What about Minions: The Rise of Gru screams action?”

“Are you kidding me Y/n? Minions is full of action. And don’t act like you don’t wanna see it. I’ve seen you watching the commercials,” she retorts back.

While she’s not wrong, this isn’t the movie you were expecting to watch during date night. Not to get you wrong but being in a theater with a bunch of children doesn’t exactly scream date. But as long as you’re with V you’re happy.

The two of you walk hand in hand into the theater and take your seats, only after V not so politely asks two children to move. She really was serious about getting the best seats.

The two of you sit down just as the commercials start. You glance over at Villanelle and she is enthralled by the screen. It brings a smile to your face. After the hard life she's had, she deserves a little happiness.

The two of you munch on popcorn as you watch the screen. You laugh at the funny parts and (as ashamed as you are to admit this) you cry at the sad parts too. The movie ends all too soon as the credits start to roll and the lights turn on.

You move to stand up, but your girlfriend pulls you back down.

"That's it?" she questions.

"Yeah it's over baby."

"But I don't want it to be over," she pouts.

"We can always go see it again," you tell her.

"I guess that will work," she says. "But I want to come back and see it first thing tomorrow."

"Whatever you want baby," you say, trying to convince her to leave. She finally gets up and the two of you walk back to your shared apartment.

After you get home and into bed you look at the beautiful blonde next to you.

"What are you staring at baby?"

"You. You know I love you V, right?"

"I know baby. I love you too," she says. She pulls you closer into her and the two of you fall asleep just like that.

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