2/ “I need you. Do you know how much I need you?” He thrusts against her just once, and she gasps as the hard ridged line of his cock meets the juncture of her thighs, unconsciously arching to meet him and for just a second she almost forgets where she is, almost forgets thier promise to each other to end this charade once and for all. She knows they have little time, so she reaches one small manicured hand around and palms him through the thin material of his dress pants. 3/ “Hold that thought” she murmurs as she nips just once at the rough skin of his jawline, “I’ll see you in three weeks.”
————-
Omggggg rpf anon how I love theee!!!! Thank you for this!!!
found this in the dumpster, after a long time coming up with nothing. no idea who wrote it or what it’s about but it sure is fun huh?
He gets there first, which is fine by him — a quick shower to wash off the day, a chance to brush his teeth and sit in silence for a few minutes, keyed up though he is. Emerging from the steam, he doesn’t want to put his all-day, used boxer briefs back on, but it seems presumptuous to just hang out, so to speak; he grabs a plush hotel robe from the hanger, ties it loosely, leans over the mirror to pluck a rogue old-man silver eyebrow hair.
He doesn’t hear her enter — loud exhaust fan — and almost shrieks when she appears at his elbow, a platinum-haired sprite with an impish glint in her eyes and an open hand slapping down on his terry-covered ass.
“Hey sexy!” she purrs into his ear, pulling him down with a possessive grip on the back of his neck. So that’s how it’s gonna be tonight — she’s always more eager after time apart, and especially time with her family; everything she bottles up while being Good Mom and Respectable Partner comes out of her at high pressure when he’s there to uncork it.
He bends to her, willingly, eagerly, till his back barks a protest; he scoops her up and sets her on the marble countertop, which turns out to be the perfect height.
He palms her breast through her thin shirt — “Naughty girl, out after curfew with no bra!” he mumbles, licking and kissing his way down her neck.
She laughs, working the robe’s sash undone so she can get at his chest. “Only gets in the way —” she shoves the thing to the floor, leaving him bare-assed and already ridiculously hard — “of what I want.”
2) afraid of triggering old feelings again. “You should have told her.” “I know. But it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong.” “Lying is not the best way to a girl’s heart.” Does she really want him to conquer his girlfriend’s heart? Does he? He had no comeback for that. Instead he stared at her pretty summer dress & her sun-kissed skin. “You look nice.” It was a simple compliment but it still managed to make her blush. “Thank u. You seem… well rested.” He’ll take that. The house was silent,
3) her kids weren’t home. It was just them. And it felt great, peaceful. She gave him leftovers and they spent the next 2 hrs chatting. There was banter, light touches. That’s just how they were together. “David, I think u should go.” “I can stay 30 more minutes or —“ “No. You HAVE to go.” He was confused. “We’re going to end up doing something we’ll regret, David. I know I will.” His finger traced her forearm and he took her hand. “Just go.” she whispered. He left. She stood there, overwhelmed.
–
That was beautiful and painful anon!!!! Why did he leave? WHY????
David doesn’t expect anyone, and he expects her least of
all.
“Gillian?” He’s buzzed her in; he’s had a minute,
almost two, to prepare himself for her arrival. Seeing her now in front of him,
where he lives, he feels like his two worlds collide, finally. They’re friendly
enough on set. David likes her. She’s funny and she’s ambitious; she screws up a
lot. Just thinking about having to whisper into her ear that she’s not on the
right mark puts a smile on his face.
“I swear it was sunny when I left!” She shakes her
head like a wet dog and it’s only now that David takes in her appearance. She’s
soaking wet, her clothes dripping on the carpet in the hallway. He grabs her
shoulder and ushers her inside.
“I’m all wet,” she complains and he
bites his tongue; this is not the time for a lewd joke. Gillian runs her hands
over her face and David is taken aback. He knows she’s young, younger than him
anyway, but fuck. She’s beautiful. She’s wearing no make-up and he can spot a few
stubborn freckles on her nose, on her cheeks.
“Fuck this hair,” she grumbles, momentarily
distracting him from her face. She tries to smooth the frizzy locks of hair.
David chuckles and can’t stop himself from reaching out, tugging one damp strand
behind her ear. Her mouth opens as though she wants to stop him, or say
something, but no words leave her lips. She just stares up at him with her big,
blue eyes that he’s come to depend on these last few months. He reads them
easily. It’s as if she were a language only he understood, only the two of them
spoke. He’s never experienced anything like this before. Once, years ago, a
director told him that even if you hate your co-stars, you have to make it
happen. Make the audience believe you love each other, that you have a long
history with each other. With Gillian, he feels, it’s no effort. It just
happens. It’s just there.
“You need to get out of these wet clothes.”
“I came here to read lines,” Gillian says as if
apologizing. “I thought we could… you said you didn’t mind.” He nods
slowly, remembering. Chris, as well as several directors have been short with
her lately, have told her to step up her game. So he’s offered to run lines
with her to make it easier for her. For him, too. This is her first big gig.
The least he can do is help her out. For better or worse, they’re in this
together. David doesn’t see the show lasting. It’s too silly, too out there. He
glances at her as she runs her fingers through her hair, as droplets of rain
fall to the floor. Soon she’ll be out of his life again, possibly. The thought
gives him pause.
“I don’t mind.” His voice cracks and he clears his
throat. He’s not some lanky, awkward teenager. “You need to get out of
these wet clothes, though.” Gillian sighs, pouts at him and nods.
“Wait here.” David says to her and disappears into
his bedroom. There should be clothes from Perrey here somewhere, but he can’t
find them. He grabs his old Yale t-shirt knowing it’s clean and a pair of
boxers. They’ll fit her – at least he hopes they will.
“Here you go. The bathroom is right over there.”
Gillian takes the clothes from him and mouths a thank you. David doesn’t mean
to listen, but what else is he supposed to do? This is his apartment and yet he
feels like the stranger, the one who came for a visit. He stuffs his hands in
his pockets and waits for her reemerge. There’s the sound of rustling behind
the closed door. He hears a muffled ‘fuck’ and chuckles. She looks so innocent
with her tiny stature, with her winning smile and her freckles. Then she starts
talking, starts swearing like a sailor. David loves it.
The bathroom door creaks open and David swallows hard as he
sees her, his mouth suddenly dry. She tugs at the boxers which end mid thigh
and giggles.
“I, uhm, put my clothes up to dry.” Gillian
searches his eyes and he has trouble not letting them drift lower.
“They’re all ruined. Even my underwear.” Oh how he wishes she hadn’t
said that. He licks his lips quickly, his eyes darting down. Her breasts strain
against his t-shirt and he has to stop himself from not touching them, her. He
doesn’t allow his eyes to wander any further, or his thoughts.
“Sure,” he stammers, “so lines, huh? Let’s go
check out what Chris wants us to talk about.” It’s a habit to put his hand
on the small of her back. She feels warm against him now and he reminds himself
not to think. Do not think about her not wearing a bra. She sits on his couch,
her legs under her. Do not think about her not wearing underwear, he tells
himself.
“Do you need anything?” David asks. His own
clothes feel too tight, as does his throat. She looks up at him, one hand in
her hair, the other browsing through the script.
“No, I’m good. Come on, sit down, David.” There’s a
smile on her face and David can’t move. She laughs, what a wondrous sound, and
pats the free space next to her. She lifts an eyebrow at him. He’s never seen
it before. There’s a challenge sparkling in her eyes. David blinks, but the
moment remains what it is.
“You look like a wet dog,” he says and she’s quiet
for a second before she starts giggling. David watches her, unable to look away.
“It’s my fucking hair,” she says.
“I like it.” He doesn’t know when he joined her on
the couch. He’s just there, so is she. David catches a strand of her hair
between two fingers. It feels so soft. It smells like rain and also like her.
He thinks of the first episode, of meeting her. Standing in the rain with her,
trying again and again to get the scene right. Outside the rain hammers against
the windows and inside, his heart does the same against his ribs. David looks
at her, she looks at him. There’s a smile on her face, confident. She has no
idea. Up until two minutes ago, he didn’t either. He tucks the strand of hair
behind her ear. His finger grazes the shell and she sighs; he doubt she even
notices. What would she do if he touched her cheeks, her lips? Her neck? Her breasts?
What if he carried her into his bedroom? What then? What-
“Let’s try this scene. What do you think?” David
startles. “I don’t know how to play it.” Gillian points at it and his
eyes follow her finger. He sees words, but they don’t register. As his eyes
meet hers again, he knows he’s screwed. This show might not last. They might be
done in a couple of months. No more night shoots. No more Gillian showing up unexpectedly.
She has no idea, none at all. When did this happen, he wonders as he nods and
she starts talking in her Scully voice. When did he fall for his freckle-faced
co-star?
Submitted by someone who wants to stay anonymous ❤
Five and a half months – six if he counted the couple of weeks of promo at the end of filming – which had, when he had first received the schedule, seemed like an eternity and which now, seemed nothing more substantial than the blink of an eye.
Time spent together merely an illusion of what they had once had, an echo of now distant memories as unattainable as they were fleeting.
To feel her, to hold her, to claim her once again as his own had lulled him – had lulled them both in misplaced security, protected as they were inside the safety and familiarity that had transported them effortlessly and completely back in time when nothing mattered anymore other than whispered promises made in the dark of night, skin on skin, limbs, entwined, fevered breath on dampened hair and words that spoke of love and hope; of small things lost but now regained.
And for a while they had believed again, for a while they were able to push aside the outside world and just be. Refusing always to acknowledge that an end was in sight for both of them, the future stretching before them as unattainable and tenuous as it had ever been. She would leave again, crossing an ocean to return to a life that seemingly no longer required his presence to complete it, to complete her.
The urge to just pull her to him in front of the worlds press, to hold her so tightly that she couldn’t leave even if she had wanted to had overtaken him so completely he could barely even bring himself to look at her on this final day, afraid beyond measure that what she would show him would destroy him, a question in her eyes that he wouldn’t be permitted to answer and which would finally send him to his knees with the pain of it all. This woman who had held him in her thrall for almost twenty-five years, walking away from him and leaving yet another piece of herself behind; shattered and wanting, unwilling or unable to admit a truth that had swirled between them for so long and he wondered how long it would be before she simply had nothing left.
It had been easier for them both to say their goodbyes by phone. To put space between them lest one or both betrayed themselves and resolve weakened. But he had known, somehow he had known that it wouldn’t be enough; that it could never be enough when they owed each other so much more than that.
And he had been unsurprised when she had come to him, knowing she was there in some inexplicably certain way even before he opened his eyes. The slight dip in the mattress as she perched on the edge of the bed, his body tilting naturally toward her even as he reached out to gently smooth his palm across her back, wincing in spite of himself at the sharp angles beneath the thin sweater she wore, wishing he could somehow quieten the turmoil that raged below the surface of her rigidly controlled exterior.
“Why are you here?”
The question softly whispered, hanging suspended in the air between them as she shook her head.
“I don’t know…..I just…I just….I….please would you just hold me for a few minutes.”
And he had folded her body into his, wrapping his arms around her as she trembled against him, wondering how they had found themselves here, in this living nightmare that had no beginning and no end, where nothing seemed right when they were apart and yet they still couldn’t find enough reason to be together. Where love and hate blurred lines that drew them together but also pushed them apart. Two lives half lived for a quarter of a century with answers as elusive now as they had ever been.
But she came to him, enough of a need still burning within her that time and space and distance has never managed to fully extinguish and with it, a hope that somehow they will one day get things right.
“What are we doing? Why are we like this?”
He sighed against her then, as always unable to find the words to make things better for her, tightening his hold on her lest she fall into the sky and flee from him. A thousand promises broken but a thousand more yet to make.
“I don’t know” he tells her. “But I know one day we’ll figure it out.”
he looks at you and smiles. he wants to give you some support, you know he does but you can’t cool down. it starts. you stand there and you breathe in and breathe out and you whisper something to yourself, you try to keep your mind occupied with anything else. anything else, please. you hear “david” a few times. it drives you back to the times when you were together, shooting scenes, coming back to the hotel after the most exhausting day, laying in bed together, barely talking but appreciating each other so much. each “david” brings tears to your eyes and brings you back to the times when you were smiling with honesty. where did you go wrong, why are you standing here trying to stay calm when you’re anything but? each “david” makes you wanna answer “i love you”. each “david” makes you wanna grab your phone and make a call. each “david” makes you wanna jump in a car and run away. escape the reality, run straight into his waiting arms. but this “david” makes you shiver. you’ve got goosebumps all over your body because this “david” isn’t the mention of a person. this “david” comes up to the stage. i can see you catching a breath. i can see the tears in your eyes and hear your inner voice telling you to run. run as fast as you can. but you stand still.
“i first met gillian 25 years ago” i start and look at you with, at least i hope so, the most adorable smile i can. “it was a total coincidence. i never planned for it to happen but somehow i sat next to her and we started running lines. that was the first time i’ve realized what a great actress she is. she was so young and so pure and a moment when we were saying goodbye to each other on that day, wishing each other good luck, that’s when i realized she’s the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. we got the parts and although it’s been exhausting and it seemed like an endless journey, i would do it all over again.”i look at you again and you smile through your tears. and i realize i’m crying too. to hell with that. “it’s been 25 years and a lot of things have changed but i would go back to that one day when i fell in love with her for the first time. it was amazing, that was the happiest day of my life. i keep falling in love with her with every day and believe me – it’s the greatest feeling. ”this “david” makes you cry and fall in love even more. so what if you saw me standing there?what would you do?
–
@megsandroses I love you. And I hate you. But mostly, I love you! ❤
The coffee was hot and surprisingly good, even though it had come without the shot of rum she would have loved, and really needed on this particular Wednesday morning.
The entire lot of the North Shore Studios in Vancouver was exceptionally bustling this morning, and maybe she wasn’t used to it anymore or she really was that stressed out, but she was glad to sit in this quiet trailer on this comfortable couch, far, far away from any trouble. Or so it seemed.
nothing christmassy but i thought i could finally post this little one. thanks @justholdinghandsok for checking this for me years ago ❤️
it never goes as
planned. you may think you prepared yourself for the worst during those weeks,
but it’s not true. you thought you were resistant to pain but it only hurt more. you thought
you can’t have your heart broken again when the pieces of it are still making
you bleed. but there you go – your body aches and your heart breaks yet again. the pain is unbearable this time. you just want to cry and pray to god for the
pain to go away. you’re not ready for it, you don’t want to suffer like that. it’s simply too much.
but nobody gave you any
warning and now you have to stand here, in the middle of the set and looking at
her. her beautiful eyes that shine when someone makes her laugh. and that
beautiful smile when she’s passing someone. you wish you could hate her but
just one simple look and you’re lost. you’re all hers and that’s your worst
nightmare. you can’t even fight it because you know you will lose again. you’re
a damn loser at this game so you just wish she could stop playing.
you want to disappear
before she notices you but it’s too late. her blue eyes lay on you and she
gives you that damn smile. you’re lost again.
before you can blink,
she’s standing right next to you with her palm on your chest. she can
definitely feel your strong and fast heartbeat because she frowns and takes her
hand back. you already feel cold. when you decide to look at her, she gives you
another smile; this time it’s full of sadness and pity. you can’t stand it.
“what?” you ask and she
opens her eyes wider. she doesn’t say a word, just keeps staring at you. you’re
almost sure you can see the tears in her eyes. you try to shake off this
feeling and smile at her instead. “i’m tired. wanna grab some coffee? go for a
walk?”
you don’t get lucky this
time when you hear her phone ring. you both look at the caller’s id and frown. she looks at you one last time and mumbles “i’m sorry” before picking it up and
leaving you in the middle of the set alone.
you sigh and walk back
to your trailer. it’s true though: you’re all alone.
days pass by and you
try, try so hard, so fucking hard to be good, you pretend to be good. but you
know you’re not good enough and every night after a long day of shooting, you
just sit and drink and cry and hope for a better tomorrow.
she keeps coming to your
trailers when she can’t fall asleep. you lay in your bed, cuddle and talk about
everything. you ask if she’s happy and she describes you her new life. you
don’t even feel jealous, when she talks of him. you did at first but now you
don’t. you don’t feel jealous, you don’t feel angry, not even sad.
the problem is you feel
nothing.
you don’t even realize
when something changes. one second you hold her in your arms while she’s crying
and cursing him for being such an asshole, and suddenly she’s kissing you and
leaves you breathless. you’re laying naked in your bed and looking at her as
she moves her hips around your dick. you’re lost, you don’t know how that
happened and why does it feel so wrong when it feels so right.
“gillian” you whisper at
first but she doesn’t hear you, she keeps moving and moaning and crying and now that makes you sad. you start
feeling something and that’s worse than feeling nothing. “gillian” you try
again, louder this time. you keep staring at her, begging her with your eyes to
hear you. “please…”
she doesn’t stop, she’s
moving even faster and when she comes she lays on your chest and leaves kisses
on your neck.
“you feel so good” she
tells you and smiles against your skin. and you really wanna feel good but it’s
hard. you keep telling yourself that you did nothing wrong, that you’re not
ruining anything but deep inside you just know that she’s gonna regret it. but
she clearly isn’t now. “i love your smell, you know?”
you do know but you
don’t want to admit that. you know that whatever you say will lead to argument
and at some point she’s gonna cry again. and you’re gonna be a reason for her
tears.
so you say nothing and
just gets ready for a second round. you fuck her, kiss her and listen to her
until she gets dressed and leaves your trailer with a soft and sad “thank you”.
that keeps happening
until she makes up with him. you’re just her friend again, just a heartbroken
co-star that she once fucked. just another loser.
you keep writing her
letters, that makes you feel a bit better, makes your pain go away for a brief
moment. it’s like pressing your temples when having a headache. it goes away
for a moment and then comes back with twice bigger pain. you’ve learnt to
accept that. maybe you were born to suffer. and maybe, one day, you’ll stop
crying.
maybe you won’t feel a
thing.
you wish you could learn
faster because when you see her with him, you wanna cry again. you close your
eyes and think of a happy place, of anything at all that doesn’t include him
touching her, kissing her, marking her as his. you think of your kids and how
happy they are with their lives, think of tea who’s never been happier. you try
to imagine your happy place next to them but she keeps coming to your mind and
you can’t help it anymore.
she’s your happy place.
she’s your home.
your everything.
when he leaves her side,
you decide to not waste the time. you come to her and she smiles at you. she’s
so beautiful, like a dream, a walking pure perfection. you can’t stop your
thoughts, she’s always on your mind.
“hey, dave” she says
softly and it’s so sweet it makes your heart melt. scratch heart. those broken
pieces are melting. “is everything okay? you look nervous.”
“i am nervous” you say
and chuckle, trying to stay cool. you can’t control your heart and your
sweating hands but maybe you can control your words. you’ve always been good
with them, words is your strong side. “i’m nervous about the next scene, it’s
important, you know, i just wanna be good. i don’t wanna fuck it up and…” you
see him approaching so you just say it. because it’s now or never. “i fucked it
up. us. i fucked us up. i know it’s all my fault and you don’t have any reason
at all to believe me but i regret it. i regret every single promise i’ve
broken, every single word i’ve said that hurt you. i’ve never mean to hurt you. it’s always the worst when you hurt someone you love and i did and i’m so
sorry. i am…”
“david, it’s okay” she
interrupts you, putting her palm on your arm. she smiles again but you can’t
stop seeing this sadness in her eyes. you shake your head because it’s not
okay, it’s never gonna be okay if you’re not together.
“i love you, gillian”
you finally say that and she sighs. she’s not even looking at you, she’s
turning around to see him standing near. he doesn’t look happy but you don’t
care. it’s not his time. he’s gonna have his moment later – now it’s all about
you and her. “gillian, listen to me. please, just hear me out.”
she nods and looks at
you again. this time around you smile.
“i love you so fucking
much, gill.” you’re so sure your heart is gonna rip through your chest. “i love
every single detail about you. your freckles and wrinkles, your nose and ears. every. little. thing. even when you annoy the shit of out of me, i keep loving
you more and more. and it’s sick. you make me feel the things i’ve never
thought i would. you challenge me and make me wanna do good things in life. you’re everything i want and if i can’t have you, i’m gonna go crazy. i can’t
live without you because you’re my life. my whole world. my everything. and i know i fucked it up before but i’m not doing that again. i’m done being stupid
and i hope you can see that. because it’s always been you.”
“david…”
“i’m not finished.” she’s crying now but you can’t stop. she has to know everything. “so here i am. asking for another chance. not for me, because that would be selfish. i’m
asking you to take that chance for us. because we love us. we were made for
each other and you can’t deny it. i’m
gonna keep telling you that i love you until you say it back.”
“dave.”
“i love you.”
“david…”
“i love you.”
“but…”
“there’s no but. i love
you without any buts.” she sighs and you smile. “but for a record: i love your
butt.”
“that’s not fair” she
whispers and you know that she’s having second thoughts. you wish you were a
better man and let her go but you can’t. you’re stupid and helpless and crazy
about one woman your whole life. “i’m with…”
“i know” you interrupt
her again simply because you don’t want to hear his name. It makes you sick. “i know everything. but still, i’m asking for another chance. i’m asking you to
pick me. choose me and i’m gonna spend the rest of my life proving to you that
you made a good decision. i’m hopelessly and magically in love with you and i will never stop loving you or stop reminding you that you’re everything to me. so it’s your choice, it can be simple. me or him. you have to do something
about it.”
you can’t watch her go
and be with him so you just turn around, call brick and you both disappear in
your trailer.
you don’t know what to
do about yourself. you go for a walk, call your kids, play with brick, write
another letter to her, play some songs, meditate. nothing makes it better,
nothing makes a pain go away. you just gotta see her.
when you decide to walk
out of your trailer, there’s a soft knock on a door. you open it without
thinking and as you look at her, it takes your breath away.
she’s standing there,
your petite beautiful girl with a magical smile and sparkling eyes and she
bites her lip to stop from laughing out loud.
“what are you doing
here?” you ask her as she steps closer. the smile doesn’t go away.
“you said you love me…” she closes the door behind her and puts her arms around your neck to bring your
face closer to hers. your lips are just inches apart and you’re about to faint.
“and you told me to do something about it…” she kisses you behind your ear and
smiles yet again. “so I am.”
(2/2) walk all the way over there?! | DD (looks away): It’s no big deal. | *GA cups his cheek in her hand* | GA: Your face is almost frozen. | DD (chuckles slightly): It’s fine. I needed some fresh air anyway. | *GA stares at him and shakes her head* | GA: David sweetheart Duchovny. | *DD smiles shyly* | GA: It’s very much appreciated, thank you. It’s why you’re still my favorite co-star. | *DD nods and smiles* | DD: I’ll make sure to never lose my title, then. | *Their eyes lock for a second*
She could hear the aimless strum of his guitar as she entered the living room. She stood there just taking in the sight of him sitting on the couch, his eyes seemed to be out on the horizon overlooking the Vancouver skyline and though his hands were firmly cluthchjng the guitar, she could tell his mind was a thousand miles away. His rythmuc strumming was the equivalent of her fidgety hands, attempting to overcome an uncomfortable situation. His fingers produced the same three cords repetitively as if wishing them to hold the key that would orchestrate the answers that would lift the weight off of his present psyche.
The passing of time and quite a bit of self exploration had turned his short fuse disposition, which was quite extroverted back in the 90’s into a more serene accepting man who now humbly chose his artistry as a form of emotional outlet. Having set a goal to become the man that his mother would be proud of, he steadily walked that path throughout the years, peeling off layers of bitterness, arrogance, anger and self entitlement, whilst learning the most important things in life come in the form of the heart, and so he focused on the ppl he loved and nourished himself through generosity, trust and forgiveness. Unfortunately public lashing was a built in component within the profession he had chosen, and at times he was left exposed and raw to the point he wished he could lash out and vent the frustrations out of him in a way that would leave some destruction as evidence behind him.
In the past three years or so being on stage singing his own songs served as a therapeutic tool, being able to express himself through his vocals, mediocre as they were, stilled his mind and connected him to his physical body, he enjoyed the adrenaline rush, the flow of fear turned excitement surging through his body. He loved the feel of his damp shirt, not completely soaked through after a concert, almost equivalent to the feeling of completing a challenging workout session at the gym. And the love the fans bestowed on him wherever he went was so touching, strengthened his belief that it was all worth it at the end.
And yet at that given moment the turmoil within his body surged, any outlet was apparently trapped.
The tabloid headlines were yelling out a may December romance and the fans had become flippant and turned on him bestowing him with titles truly unbecoming of his true self. He wished he could just wait it out untethered, but a form of sexual deviancy was where he drew the line, especially since Hollywood seemed to be awakening and showing, rightfully so, no tolerance for power plays of that nature.
He wasn’t sure why he agreed to play along with the suggestion that seemed faltered right from the get go, but Gillian’s determination managed as always to sway his better judgment into a haze of agreement.
She used words like “steer people off our tracks” and promised a sense of release of those reigns that seemed to be forever controlling them as to not reveal the secret of their relationship. Being the hopeful man that he was he found himself pitching an enticing idea that would combine money and the opportunity of an upgrade in the life to a 24 year old. She would have to just hang around him once in a while, long enough for the paparazzi to catch them in close proximity, do some odd jobs here and there, make some extra cash, have her expenses taken care of for that duration of the Xfiles shooting and continue to have fun and carefree with her friends and the people in her life. What 24 year old in their right mind would say no to an appealing offer as that?
“With people already subscribing to the notion Peter is my boyfriend now, you being seen with Monique will seal the deal, it will allow us some freedom.” She seduced him with that last word, “freedom”, she knew how taxing being in the public eye was. the media’s constant need to decipher his relationship with Gillian felt like a never ending picking at a scab leaving it open and exposed to potential further damage. He wanted to ensure this wouldn’t happen again. And so he shrugged his shoulders and said ok. And now he was filled with remorse.
He would never blame her for anything, his heart was too pure when it came to her, she knew she was his soft spot equally as much as she was his trigger. coming out of her latest meditation she was aware of the fact that she had done wrong by him, even though he would never admit to it if she were to ask him. And since he wasn’t a punishing man by nature, she was left with the task of beating herself up for sth that she could not undo now.
She wished she could go back in time to the days when it was a bit simpler, when they were together in one of her favorite cities, New York, his home base, before she put her head in his lap on national TV and he had to sit on his hands to refrain from touching her further.
That whole Kimmel interview was just one long mess of constant touching which was provoked by that skit they had shot earlier that day. The friction of her pelvis against his groin each time he had to pull her upon him on that table left them both hot and bothered and infested their bodies with primal needs which didn’t get an outlet until later that evening.
Acting out of pure desperation to better a situation backfired, it had stained her reputation and creating an uproar against her, but now she has brought David before that same firing squad and the rifles weren’t loaded with blanks. She recalled the Mark Mann shoot with David in TriBeCa, she just couldn’t resist inscribing her photo to him with a joking comment referring to Mann as her other lover. Whilst in a safe setting that day she had paraded David proudly as her lover, in between shots she would sneak a kiss, a fleeting touch, a whiff of his scent. She was an addict and he was her drug of choice. Even in her premenopausal state where she was barely recognizing her own body due to the changes it was undergoing he had the ability to bring that youthful potency and innocence she once possessed, accompanied by a roaring libido lubricated and in need of satisfaction.
With short strides she is at his side, he promptly stops strumming, catching her liquid blue gaze, using it to center him as he had done numerous times in the past.
His lips curl up slightly and he exhales a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding in. Putting the guitar on the couch beside him he makes room for her within his personal space and she invades it willingly. climbing onto his lap she rests her cheek at the crook of his neck, brushing her lips against him. Her hand caresses his cheek, the damp coldness of her palm warmed by the radiating heat of his cheek. Slightly gripping at his jawline she tugs him towards her parted lips, their eyes lock for a split second, a silent conversation of blue and hazel. His lips latch on to her lower lip softly suckling on it as his hands pull her in closer to him, needing to lose himself within the solace her tiny frame was offering him. She thrusts her tongue deep into his mouth seeking out a corner where she can deposit all of her apologies. In response he runs his tongue along the roof of her mouth reassuring her that no apologies needed, they were in this together, they will ride the wave until until the end.
A surge of emotion cuts deep in her core and she pulls away, silently sobbing against his chest. He strokes her hair, kisses the top of her head and whispers, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Thank you so much for sharing! Hope you write more !
Just Holding Hands 