Stay With Me

Villanelle doesn't know how long she's been unconscious when the light of Helene's immaculately decorated mansion comes back into focus.

Was it five seconds or five minutes? Five hours? Five days even.

All that mattered was the only thing that ever mattered. Even as her life drained from her,  carried adrift on the river of warm, sticky, oozing red liquid. Even as she sputtered for breath to form the name on her lips on a strangled cry, Eve was all that mattered.

Was she safe?

Villanelle's mind wouldn't allow her body any respite from the torment of her injuries until she knew. So she clung on, screaming for Eve; reaching out through the thick forest of ever encroaching slumber.

Helene had fucked off already. For all she knew, her old boss was already dead, but she had made certain that she couldn't, or at the very least wouldn't, hurt Eve anymore. That was all that mattered. Her mind drifted back to a conversation they had shared some six months ago in this very room. She couldn't help the painful laugh that spilled from deep within her only to end on a gargled, hacking cough as coppery blood expelled itself from her lungs.

Helene had told her with such certainty that she could kill Villanelle before Villanelle got the chance to do the same. A victorious smile split her bloody lips at the thought that she had thoroughly proven her old boss wrong.

A warm pair of arms wrapping around her shoulders pulled Villanelle from the haze of her injuries

Eve?

When did she get here? Ah! Yes! She is the reason Villanelle is lying in the floor bleeding out in the first place. Helene was going to kill Eve. The only thing Villanelle remembers clearly after that is a blind fury unlike anything she's ever felt before. And then, after it was all spent, she came to on the floor of Helene's conference room.

"E..Eve." She mutters weakly as she feels Eve pull her into her lap. Eve is frantic and Villanelle doesn't quite have the energy to understand why. Everything feels so peaceful. Everything is okay.

"Shh...dont talk. Just stay awake!" She feels fingertips stroking gently at her face, and hears the warbled conversation Eve is having on the phone, but it all feels so distant. The only thing she can cling onto is Eve's face. Such a worried expression she has. It makes Villanelle frown to think that Eve is fretting for.

Everything is peaceful. Why isn't Eve peaceful?

If she lets herself, she thinks it might be nice to just slip away into darkness, but something about Eve keeps her holding on. Eve needs her to hold on.

"Stay with me." Eve pleads over and over again, trying to stop the bleeding with so much futility. And just where the fuck is that medic she called for? The minutes tick by like hours and she grows more anxious with each passing second.

She can't watch Villanelle die. She can't!

She would've rather been tortured and killed by Helene.

Eve holds on tighter to Villanelle as if that will make her stay just a little bit longer; as if she's playing tug of war with the grim reaper for Villanelle's very soul.

She cries, letting out a frustrated angry sob and beating a fist into the ground with rage. Villanelle looks curiously up at her through foggy, mostly vacant eyes as if to say "why are you upset? You should be at peace."

That's the last thing she can be when her only family is fading away under her fingertips and she's helpless to stop it.

Then, Villanelle reaches a shaky hand up to stroke Eve's hair, caressing down the side of her face. There's a smile on her lips and and unspoken apology in her eyes. Eve knows she can't stay awake any longer.

"Beautiful..." She breaths out, and her hand slips down Eve's chest to fall limp at her side.

Eve feels her heart rip from her chest and throw itself into a chasm full of spikes.

Forever

Here we go! Part 3 of my post-bridge drabbles and part 2 of smut! Enjoy!

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"Are you sure?" Villanelle asks, her hands hovering around the waist band of Eve's trousers. She can feel her whole body thrumming with anticipation. Then, in the next moment, she's enveloped by Eve as their lips and tongues find each other once more. Eve nibbled a hot, wet trail down Villanelle's long, graceful neck and then she's taking an earlobe into her teeth.

"Yes."

Such a small word; a simple affirmation. But, like a spark in a pile of hay, it ignites a blaze that threatens to consume these two women. And they are content to let it.

In another time, Paris maybe, Villanelle would've been aggressive. She usually is when it comes to sex. All predatory dominance and lust. She takes joy in invading her partners' senses; consuming them entirely until they have nothing left to give, then discarding them for the next fuck toy.

But Eve is different. As she is in so many ways. Villanelle wants to take her time; wants to truly know Eve. So, she slides the trousers down inch by glorious inch, each patch of skin there is to caress proves more thrilling than the last. She follows her hands will gentle kisses and nips down Eve's thighs.

There's a small cut on Eve's right leg just above the knee and Villanelle frowns when she sees it.

"Shaving accident." Eve answers the silent question and Villanelle almost purrs reverently as she bends down to kiss that spot.

Eve positively aches at the care and attention Villanelle is showing. She's fascinated and enamored with every side of the younger woman, but this caring and attentive side is quickly becoming her favorite. She feels uncomfortably distant suddenly and all that matters is the need to be near Villanelle. To feel flesh against flesh.

She grabs at Villanelle's shirt again, ignoring the surprised huff she receives in response, and yanks it right off of Villanelle's back, pulling them back into each other.

"That's rude." Villanelle whispers, smug and defective, before they are kissing again. Without the clothing between them, their hands are left free to explore. The only sound in the room is the rustle of bed sheets and the signs that escape them as hands wander over each other's bodies, sending shivers through both of them.

Neither quite remembers how, but somewhere along the way, they've both come out of their bras. Villanelle pulls her attention away from Eve's mouth and begins a journey down.

Down...down...down.

Down past Eve's neck, and over her collarbone, and finally to her breasts. Eve lets a sigh escape as Villanelle takes a breast into her mouth, bringing one hand up to play with the other has her lips suck and her tongue laves over the sensitive mound of flesh.

Her free hand snakes down lower, toward Eve's underwear. She pauses once more, silently asking permission as her mouth continues to worship Eve's breasts.

The hand that Eve doesn't have gently nestled in Villanelle's hair slides down to hold Villanelle's hand at her underwear, sliding then both down past the cotton barrier together.

They both groan at the contact when Villanelle makes the first experimental strokes around that delicious heat, reading at Eve's folds, but not quite going where Eve needs her most.

Eve is deliciously wet, and this small act of intimacy feels so...so utterly right. Villanelle actually sheds tears. Eve's hand in her hair coaxed her to make eye contact and they look into each other with a wide eyed wonder as they feel something else lock into place, joining them even tighter together. This is where they are meant to be.

"Please." Eve repeats for the second time that night. It makes Villanelle want to kiss her, and so she does. Their lips meet as Villanelle finds Eve's clit and Eve moans into the kiss at the jolt that starts in her core and emanates through her entire being.

"God, I love you." Eve whispers after, head lolling back into the pillow as Villanelle sets a deliciously, agonizingly slow pace between her legs.

"What?" Villanelle's pace falters only slightly, and she pulls back from Eve's forehead to look at her. In the moon light, with her chest heaving in desperate need, and her face flushed with desire, Villanelle thinks this is the most beautiful she has ever looked.

They've both imagined this scenario countless times, though Eve would be more reluctant to admit it. But here, in the moment, it was unlike anything either had dreamed of. They both felt as if they would come from the sheer intensity alone.

"I love you." Eve repeats, savoring the words on her tongue and finally admitting out loud the truth of them to herself and to Villanelle.

The flame roars ever larger at the gasoline that's just been thrown on it and Villanelle's pace grows more urgent as Eve fights amid her building pleasure to be coordinated enough to pull Villanelle's trousers down.

Villanelle continues to plunge her fingers into the depths of Eve, not once faltering as she kicks off her boots to allow Eve to remove her pants. Someone growls a little bit, someone else hisses, nails drag down Villanelle's back over the taught muscles that are dancing in effort just under the skin.

And then Eve manages to flip them, bracing her hands on either side of Villanelle's face.

The predator becomes the prey.

Villanelle swallows down her pleasure with a gulp, regarding Eve's predatory expression with wide, surprised eyes. A smirk makes its way across her face as she watches Eve lick her lips.

"You're not hiding any weapons, I hope."

In truth, Eve could utterly destroy her and she thinks that she might say thank you as she feels her blood pool around her.

"Asshole." Eve observes with a fond acceptance, delighting in the response she gets when she brings her hand down to cup Villanelle at her center. Her finger slides up and down over the fabric, encouraging the growing dampness.

"You're going to ruin me." Villanelle says wistfully, reading Eve's mind.

"But you'd like that. Wouldn't you?" Eve taunts, feeling a rush of power and confidence that only add to her arousal.

Yes! Villanelle wants to scream. Instead, she reminds Eve with a thrust of her fingers into sweet, damp heat that she is not entirely powerless.

"What do you want, Eve?" Her voice drops into that husky, sultry tone that brought Eve to ruin on one late night in Rome.

"You." Eve sighs out, grinding herself on both Villanelle's fingers and her lap with an urgent, instinctive need to chase at that feeling of release. Her control of the situation is slipping, and Villanelle is all too eager to catch it.

"Say it again, Eve" Villanelle flips them over and they are skin to skin, chest to chest, body to body, once more.

They both shiver at the intensity of their eye contact as Villanelle resumes making love to her and Eve teases Villanelle's clit.

"I want you." Eve repeats, breathless. She raises her head to kiss Villanelle once more, drinking in everything she has to give and offering herself in return.

"For how long?" Villanelle's palm brushes against Eve's clit on each thrust, unforgiving and just...so... right. In turn, Eve works Villanelle to her own release, holding their faces close with her free hand.

She presses soft kisses to the side of Villanelle's face, her hairline, her temple, pulling back to make eye contact as they both threaten to come undone.

"Forever." The statement turns into a whine and Eve comes suddenly and violently on Villanelle's fingers. In the throes of her passion she misses the elated sob that is pulled from Villanelle's throat at her words.

And after the waves of her orgasm subside, she crawls on top of Villanelle, and joins their fingers over Villanelle's heart, repeating herself before she crawls down the length of Villanelle's slender, toned body to finish what she started.

"Forever."

Tonight is gonna be the continuation of Killing Eve smut!

Lay With Me

This is a continuation of the post-bridge scene drabble I wrote. It's going to be 2 parts, so I guess including that drabble you could consider this the 2nd of 3 parts. This one is fluff and a hint of smut. Part 3 is gonna be full on SMUT. I will also probably post both parts into one complete story on AO3.

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The metaphorical Earth shifts under them again when they enter Eve's tiny apartment. As the quaking subsides, Villanelle and Eve are left on two sides of the fault line, encompassed by a growing sense of awkwardness that neither knows how to approach just yet. It's the kind of discombobulation that new couples feel when they sense an incoming next step in their relationship. It settles around them and somehow, there is room among Eve's tiny, cluttered apartment for the elephant in the room.

Eve distracts herself by setting about the task of gathering a small duffel bag for the trip ahead. Villanelle pretends to inspect the apartment, looking around as if it's the first (It isn't) and the last time she'll ever see Eve's home.

They both need space to work out the feelings coursing through them before the new dynamic in their relationship can be explored.

Villanelle plops herself down rather unceremoniously onto Eve's mattress and the springs underneath groan in protest. She picks up the nearby picture frame and examines the photo inside. Eve and Niko are pictured in happier times. A honey moon, maybe? Eve looks considerably younger.

Villanelle decides she doesn't want to ponder that and turns the photo face down on the window ledge, curling her lip in displeasure.

She sprawls herself back against Eve's pillow, turning to borrow her face into it. Eve's scent overwhelms her senses on her next breath and she relaxes deeper into the mattress.

Home.

The word turns itself over and over again in her mind. She is home and she is safe for perhaps the first time in her life. Well, maybe 'safe' is still to be determined, if indeed she ever will be, but being in Eve's presence provides her with an undeniable sense of security.

She wonders if Eve feels the same.

Her arm shifts underneath pillow and catches something solid. Curiously, Villanelle curls her fingers around it and slips it from it's hiding place.

It is a heart. Not just any heart. It's the heart she gave Eve nestled inside of a teddy bear. A physical representation of her own heart, which already beat for Eve Polastri long ago, she thinks.

"Admit it, Eve. You wish I was here."

Her own voice pours from the heart as she toys with it in her hands. The sound brings Eve to step slowly out of the bathroom where she had been collecting toiletries. She takes a moment to watch Villanelle, who looks thoroughly fascinated by the object she holds in her hands. Eve wonders what she must be thinking.

"You were right." Eve steps forward and Villanelle sits up, intently meeting her gaze. Suddenly Eve feels a weight on her chest and she struggles with the conflicting emotions that have been brewing inside her since before that first dinner with Villanelle in her kitchen. She thinks she catches the ghost of smug satisfaction in Villanelle's eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it comes.

"I did wish you were here. God....even-even after everything, after Rome. I was furious. I wanted to hate you so badly, but I could never escape wanting to have you with me."

Villanelle lets out an audible, quivering sigh at the admission. She sets the heart down in the window and focuses solely on Eve, like she wants no distraction from the moment that is developing between them.

"I...um" Eve stutters. "I just think about you. All the time."

"I thought about you all the time." Villanelle admits. She remembers feeling regret for the first time after shooting Eve. Everything that came after: the wedding to a woman she didn't love, throwing herself into her work. It was a distraction from the gnawing regret of killing the woman she loves more deeply, more purely, than anyone before.

"I masturbate about you a lot." Eve says as she comes to stand in front of Villanelle. Both of them smile at the callback to Paris and then Villanelle scoots over, patting the empty space beside her.

"Lay with me? Please?"

Eve complies, shimmying into her side of the bed and then they're laying on their sides facing each other. It's another callback to Paris and both can feel the deja vu.

Eve remembers what it was like to look into Villanelle's eyes then. God she was so arrogant. And ignorant, really. She thought a handful of files could show her everything she needed to know about the psychopath looking back at her. But she learned that she had only just scratched the surface of what it meant to be Oksana Astankova.

In a weird way, she thought that she deserved to be shot for her hubris just as much as Villanelle had deserved a knife in the gut. Like a zoo keep forgetting his place in the food chain and getting mauled by a tiger.

The pair of hazel eyes looking back at her are different than they were then. The touch against her cheek is softer. Villanelle radiates the same genuine love and devotion that Eve feels herself, and there's not a trace of possession to be found in her eyes. This Villanelle feels so warm, so familiar, and yet she's a complete stranger compared to the petulant, spoiled Villanelle Eve last knew.

There is that pull again. The one that drew them back to each other on the bridge. The one that always drew them back together, as if the cosmos itself refused to separate them. Eve found her eyes flickering to Villanelle's lips. They are so impossibly close. Just one tiny move and this tension between them would snap in the most glorious way.

"What do you want, Eve?" Villanelle sighs in a voice thick with barely contained desire. She knew what she wanted. And she knew what Eve wanted. Now Eve just needed to admit it out loud to herself.

Eve is tired. Tired of running tired of games. Tired of bullshit.

"I want this. You. A future. With you."

And Villanelle springs forward, surging into Eve and crashing their lips together for the second time that night.

Someone, maybe both of them, moans into the kiss. They can't really be sure. All of the waiting. All of the anticipation. All of the confined intensity and heat between them. It all melts into this moment.

Villanelle allows Eve to turn them over as their mouths dance against each other, pulling Eve into her lap before the kiss breaks with an audible smack and her lips burn a scorching path down Eve's neck. Eve's hands find purchase in Villanelle's hair, both threatening and promising to ruin the perfect bun on blonde hair.

This is what home feels like.

Both of them think that as they feel their hearts beat together where their chests are joined.

Eve lets out a wanton groan as Villanelle's hands find tender purchase on her backside. Then she's scrambling to tear her own shirt of and Villanelle stops. Eve finds her staring in awe, positively marveling at Eve's uncovered body with a dopey, slack-mouthed expression full of desire.

She's seen Eve topless before, but she finds that the cheap light bulbs of Eve's kitchen pale in comparison to how luminous Eve looks in the moonlight.

As if from some form of muscle memory, Villanelle's fingers automatically trail up Eve's body, and she delights at the tiny shivers they leave in their wake on the way up to the shimmering, glossy looking scar tissue on the left side of Eve's chest.

Acting on some unknown instinct, one of Eve's hands mirrors the action. It leaves Villanelle's hair and trails down her body stopping above her yellow cloak on the spot where she knows the scar from Paris is. She can almost feel the heat from it radiating through Villanelle's cloak and scorching her fingertips if she tries.

Their eyes meet again and Villanelle nods, allowing Eve to remove that ridiculous cloak. Then her fingers are on the faded knife wound. The skin of Villanelle's stomach shudders at her touch; shying away in fear of being marred again. She runs her thumb over the scar on a delicate, tender promise.

Never again.

And just like that, Eve finds her self being flipped back onto the mattress. The scales of their balancing act are tipped yet again.

Push and Pull

Pleasure and Pain

They both think that if this is what consuming each other feels like then they'll gladly spend the rest of their lives trying.

Villanelle's lodge lodges in between Eve's thighs in just the right way and she gasps. The younger woman pulls back to marvel at her again. She's spent countless hours invested in fantasies of this very moment, but it is so beautifully different from anything she had conjured up in her mind's eye. It makes her feel like a virgin again; experimenting with uncharted waters in a sea of sexual possibility.

She grinds herself experimentally into Eve once again and Eve groans out in frustration again.

"Get on with it. Please..." She hisses with desire.

"You're sure?" Villanelle asks, hands hovering over Eve's trouser button like she's about to unwrap the most precious treasure imaginable.

Eve grabs her by the t-shirt she is still wearing and brings their lips together, sliding her tongue into the waiting hotness of Villanelle's mouth. She breaks the kiss to trail seductive kisses up Villanelle's neck and stops to nibble at her ear lobe.

"Yes."