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when you move, i’m moved

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“What are you doing?”

Eve stopped clicking her ballpoint pen, pulled out of her daze by the crackling sound of Villanelle’s voice through her earpiece.

It was late, she wasn’t expecting to do much else for the evening, with Villanelle about to call it a night and, hell, Hugo was already passed out on the bed behind her. So Eve had let her thoughts wander a bit, until Villanelle called her back from her daydream.

She briefly wondered if there was trouble brewing. Was Aaron coming to Villanelle’s room? Had their cover been blown? Eve had a moment to form those worries in her mind, cursing that she had no way to communicate from her end, before Villanelle came through the line again.

This time she sighed heavily, releasing her breath almost as a chuckle, but mostly in a huff of air that wasn’t quite frustrated, but almost. Eve sat up straighter in her chair as Villanelle took a slow breath followed by a heavy pause.

“Are you going to listen all night?”

Eve stayed motionless, knowing Villanelle was well aware that Eve couldn’t answer her questions. She was the only one with a mic. In that sense it was like a game. A new take on a familiar role where Eve was forced to react rather than take control.

“Are you having fun in Rome?”

Villanelle’s voice dripped, molten, into Eve’s ear, before she let out a low chuckle.

”You should let yourself go once in a while.”

There it was, Eve thought. Not what she’d necessarily expected, but where she’d hazarded a guess it would go. Had, maybe, hoped it would go, this game of theirs. She tried to think of what to say or do, only to remember again that she had no mic. That Villanelle held all the power. She wondered, fleetingly, if she should just take the earpiece out and leave Villanelle with no audience. But curiosity stayed her hand. Curiosity, and the growing knot in her stomach, the heat between her legs, and the voice that told her to stay, listen, you need to listen.

Villanelle’s shaking breath, followed by a slouching sigh, like liquid fire pouring into Eve through the earpiece, were the final nails in her coffin.

Eve felt herself taking a steady, slow breath, tilting her head back ever so slightly. As if she were allowing Villanelle to press her lips to her neck between snarky remarks about her work ethic. As if Villanelle were pulling her hair, forcing her jaw up, exposing her skin to gnashing teeth. As if she were tumbling over the edge, throwing her head back as her body clenched around slender fingers-

“I can help you.”

It was followed by another low chuckle, husky and rich and teasing. And in that moment Eve knew that she’d lost.

She was warm all over, burning in some places with a need so strong she thought she might combust. In the back of her mind she wondered if this had always been there, curling inside her like a serpent waiting to strike. Or was this just simply the power that Villanelle had over her, to turn her ravenous with nothing more than a few words whispered into a microphone at night. Eve didn’t stop to think on it, instead feeling the tension build in her like an elastic about to snap, and she needed a release, she needed, needed-

Villanelle’s breathing, like curling smoke, flowed into her ears. Eve turned her head, looking over at Hugo, asleep behind her. Villanelle sighed again, a noise bordering on a moan that threatened to set Eve aflame. She needed something, anything.

She needed to listen, she wouldn’t stop listening. But to listen in stillness and silence was an unbearable option. Villanelle would be in her ears, inside her head, breathing and sighing and moaning and whatever other noises she would make (and fuck, Eve needed to hear it all). She needed an outlet, and so she rose slowly out of her chair and made her way to the bed.

Some small voice of reason almost convinced her to stop. But the voice had been weaker and weaker as of late, and that hungry, needy part of her was stronger. Villanelle’s sighs, each breathier than the last, each a promise of something more, continued to come through the earpiece and threatened to unravel Eve before she’d even crossed the floor. It only fueled her forward, and when she reached the bed she tugged the covers off Hugo’s sleeping body and flipped him over on to his back.

“What are you doing? Okay-“ he fumbled, before he saw the hungry look on Eve’s face, and the way her hands grasped at him. When realization dawned on him, he almost smirked. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Don’t talk,” Eve commanded. It was a shame to have to use Hugo, and he didn’t know, couldn’t know what had motivated her to need him at that moment. She thought a sane person might have felt guilty, but in that instant all she needed was his body and his silence. He had to stay quiet so she could hear-

“Mmh, I wonder how you would touch me.”

Villanelle’s voice dripped into her, and Eve felt an urgency take over her. She needed to feel something, anything, if she was going to be listening. Hugo obediently kept his mouth shut as he slid his briefs down his thighs. Eve stepped back off the bed, undid her pants, and let them fall to the floor. She didn’t bother with her underwear, she just pulled them aside roughly with one hand while climbing back onto the bed. Out of the corner of her eye she felt Hugo watching her but she didn’t return his gaze. She just let her eyes drift shut as she lowered her body onto his.

“Jesus,” she heard him whisper. She didn’t bother to reply. She knew she was wet, too wet for him to be the reason she was so turned on. It would probably dawn on him eventually that he had nothing to do with what she was feeling. But he’d get a good lay out of it, she figured, before she let those thoughts drift away and focused on the woman inside her head.

Villanelle’s sighs had turned harsher, huskier, and Eve felt herself burning with curiosity to know Villanelle’s every move. Was she stroking her nipples? Teasing herself at her thighs? Circling her clit? Eve bit her lip at the thought and ground her hips down. It made Hugo groan, and he lifted his hands to her hips to steady her. She didn’t care enough to move them away, and let him hold her as she planted her hands against his chest.

“I think-“ Villanelle’s voice crackled to life, only to be cut short by gasp of breath, a sharp intake that had Eve dying to know if it meant she was inside herself. “I think you would want to be rough with me,” she finished, barely holding on to her casual tone as more heavy breathing flowed to Eve’s eardrums.

“Fuck,” Eve groaned, rocking her hips against the body beneath her, feeling pressure build as she pictured Villanelle touching herself, Villanelle touching her, Villanelle choking out her name while Eve wrapped her fingers around her throat. 

“And-“ another moan from Villanelle, this one coming from the back of her throat, vibrating through the earpiece to the base of Eve’s spine. “I think you would want me to be rough with you.” 

Eve couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. When she let out her next breath it came out as a ragged moan. Unconsciously, eyes still shut tight, she dug her nails into the skin under her fingers. It wasn’t a man beneath her, it wasn’t someone’s chest she was grasping at. It was Villanelle. She was clawing at Villanelle’s back, forcing DNA evidence underneath her nails that would prove it, prove that they’d been together in a mess of sweat and sex. She would scratch at her with every intention of leaving marks completely unlike the scar she’d already marred her with. Eve shivered at the thought. 

Villanelle moaned again, and Eve briefly wondered if it was a holy or unholy thing, listening to the sounds of a killer, and liking it far too much. 

She imagined Villanelle fucking herself on her bed, hair splayed out around her like some sinful halo, one hand clutching the bed sheets while the other worked between her thighs. She felt her orgasm building, preparing to unravel her the more she listened to the breathless voice crackling in her ear. 

“I want, mmh, I want to taste you.” 

Eve shuddered and felt her hips rut against her partner, her thighs began to clench. She vaguely registered pressure on her hips, like someone digging their fingers in to keep her grounded, but she was already so far gone into her fantasy, nothing would pull her back. 

“I would, mmh, push you up against the wall and hold you there and get down on my knees and- and eat you out-“ Villanelle’s breaths came quicker, the words pouring out between gasps and moans and fuck, Eve was picking up her rhythm now, grinding her hips and letting Villanelle’s voice send her closer to coming undone. A desperate whisper fell from her lips.

Oh, god.

She felt the pressure between her legs, the pleasure of someone inside her, and she knew it was Villanelle fucking her. Villanelle beneath her, inside her, taking over her like a plague. Eve sucked in a breath, wanting more, needing to feel more.

”-and I would not stop until your legs were shaking so much you couldn’t stand, and, fuck, you would be begging me, and saying my name over and over-“ 

Eve felt it then, the dangerous betrayal of her lips as Villanelle’s name formed between them. She clamped her mouth shut, but it echoed in her brain all the same. 

Villanelle, Villanelle, Villanelle.

”-and I would come up and kiss you, with your taste all over my mouth and, fuck, baby-

Eve’s orgasm came then as Villanelle cut off, her words devolving into a series of ragged breaths and shuddering moans. It was too soon, Eve thought, she wanted more and more and more but she couldn’t help the way Villanelle’s voice, calling her baby, had thrown her over the edge. She felt her muscles clench and she threw her head back, her mouth dropping open but refusing to let any sound come out aside from a shaky gasp. She listened to Villanelle’s orgasm through the earpiece, a series of moans that threatened to turn high pitched before they tapered off into choking breaths and then heavy sighs.

Fuck, Eve thought, gasping for air. It wasn’t long before Villanelle’s voice came through the line again. 

“Mmh, I hope that was as good for you as it was for me.”

Another chuckle, husky with sex. A long pause followed by with a deep, contented sigh.

“Goodnight, my darling Eve.”

And like that she was gone. Eve knew she’d hear nothing more from her tonight, and let out a ragged breath. She enjoyed her post-orgasm bliss for another second before she forced herself to open her eyes. She lowered her gaze and found Hugo gazing lazily up at her. She wasn’t sure if he’d finished, and she really didn’t care. It was sort of a shock to find him there at all. 

Before that mess of consequences could crash down upon her, she hummed at the back of her throat and rolled off of him. She threw off her jacket but otherwise left the rest of her clothes on, before laying down on the far side of the bed and rolling away from him. 

She thought she might’ve heard him mutter something under his breath, but she couldn’t bring herself to care in the least. She felt herself growing sleepy, and drifted off remembering the sound of Villanelle’s voice, her gasping breath, and the way she’d called her “baby” as they’d come undone together.