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I Could Tell You But I'd Have To Kill

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Eve Polastri knew that what she was about to do was a mistake. A foolish mistake that may even lead to her death, but she couldn’t stop herself. As much as she tried to deny it, she was obsessed with Villanelle. A part of her just wanted to see the woman behind bars, paying for Bill’s death, but there was another part of her. A part that wondered what Villanelle’s lips would feel like against hers. What the trained assassin’s arms would feel like touching her in that brash Villanelle manner. A part of her that she couldn’t extinguish no matter how hard she tried. How long could she keep up the act? How much longer could she spend late nights in the same bed as her husband, secretly thinking about Villanelle’s eyes and smell and touch. It was obvious from the moment that she received the bladed lipstick that Villanelle was seeking her out in the same way that she was doing. Eve was only left to hope that she found the invitation, and that she didn’t rent a room in a fancy hotel for nothing. She could’ve chosen a cheaper option, of course, but that wouldn’t do. When she met Villanelle and finally acted on her feelings in her daydreams, which happened quite often, it always happened somewhere nice . A cheap motel room just wouldn’t be the type of place where she could even see Villanelle existing. No, it had to be lavish. Eve wore a dress. Not just any dress, of course, but the dress that Villanelle herself bought her. It was a nice callback to the first time they met. Things were so different then. So much simpler.

Eve didn’t have any more time to reminisce as she heard a knock on the hotel room door. She took a deep breath, running a hand through her dress one last time to make sure it looked perfect, and approached the door. She opened it, meeting familiar cat-like eyes that lit up at her sight. That made Eve’s heart skip a beat. Did she want to strangle Villanelle or rip the clothes off of her? She wasn’t entirely sure yet. But yes, her clothes. They were a work of art, as usual. Villanelle wore a elegant, sparkly black blazer that she did not button underneath which was a white button up shirt, and black satin pants to match, and a heavy silver necklace that resembled a snake that bit its own tail, adorned with diamonds and emeralds. Her hair slick and styled back, appearing almost wet. She was quite a sight to behold.

“You’re wearing the dress I got you,” Villanelle remarked. She sounded awfully pleased with herself, and that made Eve want to slam the door in her face. But she couldn’t. She was mesmerized, fascinated with this breathtaking, psychopathic creature. Instead, she offered a short nod, and moved aside, inviting Villanelle to step inside.

“What, you got us a fancy room?” Villanelle said as she looked around, a smile forming at the edges of her lips.

“It’s not that fancy,” Eve hurried to say. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just let it be, but she felt like she had to show some kind of resistance around this woman. She couldn’t just jump her bones right then and there, revealing that she could overlook everything that Villanelle has done.

Still smiling, Villanelle stifled a laugh. “Relax! It’s not like I’m the one that stabbed you in the belly, remember?” She gestured to the spot where Eve stuck a knife in her. Only Villanelle could make light of something like that. That had to be an anomaly even amongst hired assassin, Eve decided.

“You showed up in my house unannounced and held a knife to my chest!” Eve shot back.

“I didn’t stab you though! And we ended up having a nice dinner together. And I saw the look in your eyes, Eve, don’t pretend like it was all that bad.” Still smug, but Eve sensed a spark of caution in Villanelle’s eyes. That made her feel good.

Then Villanelle bridged the gap between them, standing not even a few feet across from Eve, looking her up and down like a predator would its prey, but still that hint of caution present.

“So what did you invite me here for, really? Are there a bunch of MI6 guys waiting for me outside of this room with their guns out?” She asked.

“No,” Eve couldn’t help but look at Villanelle’s lips, slightly parted and almost twitching with anticipation. “This is a date.” She felt ridiculous, but she had no better way to describe it.

“Do you take all of your dates to fancy hotel rooms without your husband knowing?” Villanelle got even closer. Eve could feel her minty breath on her lips. Of course her breath was minty.

Eve managed a feeble “Yes” before Villanelle kissed her.

To say that she was feeling electric would be an understatement. It was ridiculous, feelings that girls in high school should have, not adult women. She tried to remember the last time Niko made her feel like this. It must’ve been a while ago because Eve couldn’t quite recall. Firm, but gentle. Passionate, but held back. That kiss bore many contradictions, yet it made so much sense. It was the only thing in a long time that did make sense to Eve. It awakened in her a hunger for touch that she did not feel in a long time.

Then Villanelle pulled back, examining Eve with an almost affectionate look in her eyes. “I wanted to do that for a really long time,”

Now Eve kissed Villanelle, cupping her face between her hands. She felt Villanelle pull her closer as she deepened the kiss, a soft sigh escaping her mouth. It felt like everything led to this moment, weeks of fervent google searches, cat and mouse games, and sleepless nights. Could this be what drove her all along? From that first moment their eyes met in the hospital bathroom? She tried to justify it so many times, to tell herself she just wanted revenge or that she simply wanted to put a murderer behind bars, but there was more to it, and Eve couldn’t lie to herself about it anymore.

“Sit, Oksana.” Eve pushed at Villanelle slightly, directing her towards the bed. Caught off guard by the use of her actual name, Villanelle took a few seconds to respond.

“I didn’t really take you for a t-”


After a few more moments, Villanelle sat down at the edge of the large king size hotel bed, her eyes curious and full of anticipation, clocking Eve’s every move.

Eve needed to feel in control, in some way or another. Seeing as her feelings and desires were definitely not in check, she hoped to gain some of it back by being the one setting the pace. She lifted her dress up a little, straddling Villanelle. She ran her thumb against Villanelle’s lips, studying every line and crease. She examined her eyes, hazel and so alert , as if she were in the middle of a battlefield and not sitting a hotel room bed. Eve pulled Villanelle’s blazer down, signalling her to take it off - which she did, all the while her eyes still glued to Eve.

Eve took her time unbuttoning Villanelle’s white shirt, in a way pushing Villanelle’s boundaries, trying to see how long she would stay still. Halfway through, she kissed her neck. Perfume. Villanelle let out a quiet sigh, tilting her head back, her eyes closed. Everything felt so natural to Eve, like she had done things like this her whole life, which of course she didn’t. Yet she felt free, like she could do anything. She wanted to do everything. She wanted to swallow Villanelle whole, to go over every inch of her, to make Villanelle hers. When she was done unbuttoning the shirt, she pulled back, parting the shirt so it revealed Villanelle’s chest (of course she didn’t put on a bra), which was expectedly beautiful just like everything else about her.  Surprisingly enough, Villanelle kept being a good girl, even when Eve traced her nipples with the very tips of her fingers, lingering on purpose, making the most out of every moment. Even when she kissed them and sucked on them, eliciting a series of soft moans from the trained killer. The line was crossed the moment she tugged on them with her teeth, though. A shift in the power dynamics, as Villanelle pulled Eve’s dress up and took it off, throwing it out of the way. She took Eve’s bra off so elegantly one could think it’s all she did her whole life. Unlike Eve, she did not take her time, and it wasn’t long before Eve herself was the one having to stifle moans of pleasure. She ran her hand through Villanelle’s hair, pulling at it as her fingers dug into her back. In a way, she wanted to be consumed by the assassin.

Villanelle hoisted Eve up, carefully laying her back down on the bed so she could be on top of her.

“Before we really get into this, do you wanna maybe set up a safeword or something?” Villanelle asked.

Eve was baffled, completely taken out of the moment. “Excuse me, what?”

“I don’t know how you like to do it, I might go too far! Having a safeword is a good way to make sure we’re on the same page!”

She was doing this on purpose, Eve realized. Stalling, studying her boundaries. “Willy Wonka. My safeword is Willy fucking Wonka.” Eve replied, grabbing Villanelle’s face to kiss it. She bit her lips gently, and felt the woman smile into the kiss.

Villanelle grinded against Eve, biting her neck, kissing her chest, grabbing onto her thighs, squishing her butt. Eve felt like she was surrounded by Villanelle, like her entire existence focused on her in these moments.  Villanelle’s hand traveled down Eve’s stomach, full of intent but not invasive, slow, ready for a sign to stop. But Eve did not give out any such signs, she wanted to go as far as Villanelle would allow. Villanelle slid her hand under Eve’s underwear, finding that the woman was rather wet. With a smug look on her face, Villanelle slid Eve’s underwear off, trailing kisses up her thighs as she made her way back, leaving small red marks on Eve’s skin. Eve sighed as Villanelle kissed, sucked and licked, holding her thighs down firmly. Everything was moving so fast, but Eve didn’t want to stop. It was an explosive whirlwind, infinitely more captivating and exciting than she ever dared to imagine in her daydreams. The assassin was precise, practicing round and flowy streaks, slowly increasing the tempo. It drove Eve wild. She reached her hands out, running them through the sheets, slowly tightening her grip as Villanelle picked up the pace. Her breathing got more and more irregular with each passing moment, morphing into a series of sighs and held breaths. The ecstatic rush was building up steadily, mirroring the tension between the two that led them to this very moment. With an arched back and a gasp, Eve felt waves of pleasure shoot through her entire body. What was it about that woman that made everything feel so intense , Eve wondered.

Villanelle came back up, the look on her face expectedly smug. “I know, I know, I'm amazing, you're in love with me, and you want us to run away together and live on a nice tropical island,” she sighed, laying down beside Eve, head propped on one elbow.

Without tearing her gaze away from the ceiling, Eve asked “Are you always just this cocky?”, still evening out her breathing.

“Well, I’m always this awesome so, yeah.” Villanelle shrugged. Eve turned to look at Villanelle. Cocky or not, she was downright gorgeous. The pleased look on her face almost made her glow , but that self assuredness poked at Eve, and she felt like she had to offer resistance again. Eve reached out to Villanelle’s face, thumb tracing the outline of her nose, her cheekbone, her jawline. Her fingers fluttering down to Villanelle’s neck. She could feel her heartbeat. Fast, excited. Eve wrapped her hand around her throat. Gently at first, then a little tighter. Without letting go, Eve sat on top of Villanelle, all the while examining the changes to her expression. Laid back at first, then curious, then almost challenging. What are you going to do, Eve?

Truth be told, Eve didn’t know what she was doing. She was acting more out of instinct, out of curiosity. Most of all she wanted to elicit a response from Villanelle, a real one, from behind her walls of cynicism. Maybe that's why sticking that knife in her all those weeks ago felt so satisfying. The look of sheer shock on her face back then was entirely genuine, bewildered even. But Eve hungered for a different kind of response this time. She leaned in to kiss Villanelle, a firm hand still grasping her throat, but not quite squeezing yet. It was a curious kind of kiss, a reaffirmation of control. Eve ran her tongue against Villanelle’s bottom lip, then sucked on it, pulling away for a squeeze of pain. Then she let go, examining the assassin’s nearly bewitched gaze before kissing her softly. While not trying to escape her grasp or flip her over, Villanelle did rebel. She managed to nick Eve’s lip, a small drop of blood already forming. That smug smile again. Eve wiped the blood with a finger. She examined it for a moment before putting her finger against Villanelle’s lips with a look in her eyes that said open . When Villanelle didn't respond, Eve tightened her grip, now not only pushing against the blood vessels but also aiming at the airways. The battle lasted for a while longer before finally Villanelle opened her mouth for Eve. She allowed Villanelle a moment of respite, letting go of her throat and allowing her to breathe before putting her finger in Villanelle’s mouth. Warm. Bitey. But not entirely unwelcoming.

Eve undid the lace of Villanelle’s satin pants with one hand, the other still grounding Villanelle through the throat. She didn't take the pants off, nor did she break eye contact. This was all about control, and while Villanelle played along - she also didn't quite submit yet. She reached under expensive lace lingerie and found Villanelle rather hot and bothered. She investigated with curious streaks, soft but full of intent. She explored different angles, clocking the ones that made the woman draw in sharper breaths, slowly discovering a rhythm that worked. Then Eve went inside of her, fingers studying, exploring, searching. As she went on, she once again tightened her choke, feeling Villanelle’s heart racing faster and faster. Her moans were becoming desperate. Needy, even. Eve kept at it, going deeper and faster, making it a little harder for Villanelle to breathe with each passing moment. When she felt that Villanelle was coming close enough she stopped and pulled out her hand. Villanelle’s eyes shot open, hungry and betrayed. Eve tasted her fingers, still not moving her eyes away from the woman under her. She tasted good, damn good. Eve smiled at Villanelle’s lustful expression and finally started to really choke her. She squeezed as hard as she could, leaning forward to apply more body mass. Villanelle looked confused, her hands grabbing Eve’s. Eve pushed harder, Villanelle’s hands now clawing at hers, trying to find an escape. Eve watched as Villanelle’s face grew red and swollen, as her gasps for air became more and desperate. She didn't let go until Villanelle’s resistance turned feeble, then allowed her one deep breath before sending her free hand back inside the woman, intent on finishing what she started. Finally, Villanelle looked astounded enough, clawing at Eve’s lower back, holding on to the bedframe, her moans a choir. When Villanelle came, Eve collapsed beside her, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Where the hell did that come from?!” Villanelle finally exclaimed, confounded.

"In my defense, you didn't say Willy Wonka," Eve got up from the bed. “I'm going to take a shower,” In truth, Eve herself was surprised. She liked getting a little aggressive with Niko, sure, but never anything like this. Still, it felt so fucking good. She left the bathroom door open, a kind of an open invitation. Where did that come from?