Gillovny RPF
Thank you so much to @sembell for the beta-reading.
It’s set after The Webbies and it is totally NSFW.
Their tight schedule didn’t allow them the necessary time of together-loneliness they were used to have after a long period without seeing each-other. The first time he saw her after those long three weeks of deprivation was in the middle of a crowd, on a red carpet, flashes dazzling his eyes and preventing him from seeing her whole.
He knew about her crutches, but seeing her like that melted his heart. She looked like a fragile little nestling who had just fallen from its nest. He wanted to hold her, help her, lift her so she didn’t have to put her tiny little feet on the floor anymore. He would have if they’d been alone and if he wasn’t injured himself.
This is so sad, he thought. No one would buy that they injured themselves separately. And yet, it was the truth. Talking about soulmates…
It was a long day. Being with her, standing next to her, and not be able to touch her, to tell her how much he missed her, how much he loved her. He would have given everything for a few seconds alone with her, but that didn’t happen. They separated after their X-Files duties, as she liked to call them, and saw each other again when he surprised her on stage to give her a well-deserved, yet totally unknown award. It was a very special moment, the two of them on stage, disabled but glowing with happiness. They were in their own bubble for five minutes, but then they had to separate again.
It was only a few minutes after midnight that she rang at his door and they finally found their way to the bedroom. With his arm and her foot, it was slower than it usual. He used to joke about their relationship being based on logistics; well, it seemed like it had extended even to their lovemaking.
Missionary wasn’t possible with his arm, but doggy-style hurt her foot. They opted for a tender spooning from behind, but his sling stopped him from keeping her close to him. He could tell she liked it, but not enough for her to climax. He would have finished her with his mouth if he hadn’t just come inside her. He apologized, she said it was okay, he knew it wasn’t. No, really, this was so sad. They were so old.
“Remember the time we fucked everywhere and all the time?” he now says, sounding defeated. His head is gently resting on her upper arm, his lips softly caressing the side of her breast.
“Remember the first time we did it?” she asks in return, her fingers slowly running through his hair.
“It’s not something I could ever forget,“ he grins, raising his brows to look at her. How could he? They’ve been filming all night under fake, yet freezing rain. He’d invited her inside his trailer for tea and they ended up together under his tiny shower. That’s the story he should have told earlier on this stage instead of this ridiculous baseball-thing he made-up while waiting backstage. “You were so cute,” he adds, remembering how young and inexperienced she was.
“And you were so hard,” she teases, raising her knee against his soft cock. He nibbles the flesh of her breast as a vengeance, making her chuckle. “What’s your favorite memory of me?” she wants to know, suddenly sounding very serious.
“You mean, in bed?” he asks and she nods with a grin. “Back then or recently?” He feels like he needs to ask. He always needs to separate their relationship in two periods of time. “Back then” meaning from when they met to when they stopped working with each other, which means from when they started dating each other, to when they couldn’t stop fucking each other, to when they hurt each other so badly they had to go separate ways even if it was jeopardizing their career. “Recently” meaning from when they started fucking again, just because they’ weren’t able not to fuck, to when they realized they could actually date, to a few years ago, when he told her she was the woman of his life and he never loved anyone as much as he loved her and she crumbled into his arms, stammering “me too”. “Recently” was his favorite period.
Étiquette : self reblog
Hello JHH! Could you please write a rpf with Gillian being high on painkillers and David being her nurse? 😘
Okay but this is going to be a total nonsense! (And thank you so much to @sembell for the beta and to @becksndot5 for reading this nonsense first)
“You smell funny,” she says, sniffing around his face interrogatively as he starts to fix the bandage around her swollen foot.
“Nice.” he deadpans with a grin on his face. “How about you stop moving, so I can do that correctly?”
He has never been good with his hands, and he isn’t fond of seeing blood, open wounds or swollen joints, but as soon as he heard her cracky voice over the phone, he couldn’t resist and bought a plane ticket for London. She could use some help with the boys and everyday tasks. And he could take care of her just like she took care of him a few years ago, when he ended up in the hospital almost blind after a basketball game.
“You sound funny too.” she says, squinting her eyes as if to have a better look at him.
When he arrived, he hadn’t expected the painkillers she had to take to make her high enough to think that he was Mulder in person, nor to call him Mulder for the entire first day.
“Okay, honey. Just lay down, and…”
“As if you were far far away but also very close.” she continues. “Why are you so far away, David?” she furrows her brows in concern and all of a sudden, tears start to fall down her cheeks, her mouth distorted with pain and sorrow.
“Hey, hey! Babe! I’m right here, okay? I’m here!” He waves at her, making her smile. “See? It’s me. I’m not far away. I’m with you. So now, lay down, and…”
“Did you cut your hair?” she interrupts him again, her sweet smile fading.
“Yes. Yes, I cut my hair. Let me guess: I look funny, right?” he chuckles, and finally manages to continue wrapping up her ankle.
“No! I loved your hair! Why did you cut your hair?” she begins to cry again. “Can you put it back? Please, David!”
“Gillian,” he sighs. He starts to wonder if adding up a sleeping pill to her painkiller would be okay. Probably not, but he’s not getting any younger, and he feels like having a whining baby on drugs around him. It’s ten times worse than the day they took mushrooms together and she insisted to get out of his trailer and wander in the forest at night. Naked, of course. He’s certainly not going to survive fifteen days with a high and incoherent Gillian. He needs to come up with a plan. “No, Gillian, I can’t put it back. But it’ll grow again soon, don’t worry.”
“When? Tomorrow?”
“Yes. What? No! Not tomorrow!” Her mouth distorts again, and she’s about to burst into tears. “Yes! Yes! Tomorrow! My hair will be back tomorrow. In one beddy-bye.”
Did he just say “beddy-bye” to the woman he loves? he wonders. Oh god! Okay, she needs to stop talking, and he needs to finish her bandage and let her sleep. She’ll probably feel better after a beddy… after a nap.
“Here.” he says as he holds his phone to her. “West showed me this app. It’s funny, you’re gonna like it. You take a picture of me, and you can change my haircut. Do you want to try it?”
She nods with a smile and finally falls silent for a few minutes, allowing him to finish her bandage properly. All he needed was to occupy her mind with something else. Now he’s going to make dinner while she sleeps a little bit, and after a few hours, she’ll be back to her old self and they’ll enjoy a calm and snuggly evening watching a silly British TV show. He wonders if they have Dancing With the Stars here too.
“I’m finished, clumsy beauty.” he says, proudly. “Did you find me a good haircut?”
“Yes, I like you in red, but people say you look better with blond hair.”
“People? What people?”
“People on Twitter.”
Reconnection
Gillovny RPF
Thank you so so much to @sembell for her excellent beta-reading! I love you!
(Slightly NSFW)
How did the time pass so quickly, she wonders. It feels like he crossed the door three seconds ago, but here they are, at four in the morning, in the massive garden of her rental house, surrounded by the noises of the nature, monkeys hiding in the trees, invisible insects singing in their ears and probably one snake or two crawling nearby.
It’s been a few weeks since they’ve seen each other. In other circumstances, they would be in bed already, trying to shush each other not to wake up all the children sleeping everywhere in the house. Maybe they’re getting old, she thinks. He has invited her to have a last drink outside, after dinner, after the boys went to bed, and the older ones went out. He wanted to enjoy the silence, just with her, for a couple of minutes before they “reconnected”. That’s the way they call their endless love making after a long period of separation.
But the couple of minutes became an hour, the hour turned into three, and the last drink turned into the whole bottle of Costa Rica red wine. She doesn’t drink, except when she’s at ease with someone she trusts more than herself, which means no one but him. Two glasses are usually enough to get her tipsy, so he happily drank the rest of the bottle. Finally, after six years of a complicated but beautiful relationship, they’ve found another way to “reconnect”.
She tells him about her difficulties with her boys. They’re getting older, tiny little men, as he likes to call them. They demand more independence but they’re still her babies, and it’s tough for her to find her place in their lives. He tells her about West, his struggles between allowing her to make her own mistakes and preventing her from the dangers all teenagers her age are confronted with. He told her he wished her daughter would have come with him. She reassures him. She knows what it’s like to raise a girl. She knows there’s a complicated phase, but it’s just a phase. It passes.
As the discussion goes, time passes. Piper and her friends come back and go straight to bed, avoiding the judgmental look Gillian would have given them if they stood too close to her, smelling their breath or seeing their eyes.
The moon is bright and high in the sky, and it’s so late that even the animals around them have gone silent.
It’s time to get up and go to bed, she thinks. Time for the old fashion way of reconnecting. But her head spins and his back hurts after sitting for such a long time. They’re indeed getting old.
As soon as she lays down, her eyes close and sleep invades her. She doesn’t need more anyway. She feels warm and safe knowing he’s just here besides her. Smelling his scent and hearing him breathing is enough for tonight. She feels his large arm enveloping her waist, a soft kiss being dropped on her bare shoulder, and a muffled “I love you” is whispered into her ear. She’s falling asleep.
Is someone knocking at the door? Is it for real, or only in her dream? Why is he moving? She felt so good with her body pressed against his and her nose buried into his neck. Who is he talking to? She can’t proceed right now. What time is it anyway? 6? 9? Noon? Whoever you are, go away, close the door behind you and let me lay on top of him for the rest of my life, she thinks. Maybe they hear her. The door closes. “Go back to sleep, bird” she hears him say. That she can do.
He’s moving again. It’s sunny outside, she can feel it through her eyelid. The nature has woken up, and so does he, apparently. His lips trace the soft line of her neck to her collarbone and his large hands roam along the side of her thighs. She keeps her eyes closed, she doesn’t want to wake up yet. She fears if she moves he’ll stop, and she doesn’t want him to stop. He licks her stomach, just under her pierced navel, making her shiver. The kiss he drops on her center, over the lace of her panties, was unexpected and deeply appreciated, making her jump a little and finally, she opens her eyes.
His hair is messy, sticking out in every direction and the soft beard he grew during the night makes him look younger. Sexier. She helps him removing her underwear, lifting her butt from the mattress with a smirk and her eyes lock with his.
“What time is it?” she suddenly worries.
“They’re all gone to the beach, we’re alone.” he doesn’t answer her question and bites the insides of her thighs.
She doesn’t regret they didn’t do that last night. They would have had to be silent and careful when the only thing she wants is to lose herself in his mouth. She hadn’t known her back could contort itself like that before. Only the back of her head and the flat of her feet are in contact with the mattress. Her whole body levitates with pleasure as he devours her, swallowing every drop of her femininity. He raises on his knees between her thighs. He couldn’t be more handsome than this morning, lit by the rays of sunshine piercing through the shutters, naked and hard in every sense. His thick cock stands strong, pulsing and twitching as her eyes rove over it, and she bites her lower lip in anticipation and desire. He slides between her lips, presses against her oversensitive clit, and effortlessly slips inside her. She watches him moving, his muscles are contracted in ridges and his jaw is clenched. He’s already holding back, she can tell. He’s beautiful. She feels him inside her, but she wants to feel him all around her. She wants his heaviness above her, she needs his mouth, his tongue, his neck. She wants her hands on his skin, and his on hers. She pulls on his arms to drag him closer, and he speeds up once his face is buried in the crook between her neck and her shoulder. The friction of his groin on her clit sends her in heaven. No doubt she would have woken up everyone with the loud scream that now escapes her throat as she comes all around him, soon followed by his deep grunt and her “fucking Christ” chuckled against his cheek as he pulls out.
She kisses him just like she breathes. Without thinking about it, but needing it to survive. Her tongue melts with his, and her fingers caress the skin of his ribs.
“You okay?” he asks, probably tasting the tears that are running down her cheeks to die in their kisses.
“Yes,” she lies. “I’m sorry.”
He asks what’s happening without a word, just by raising her chin with his index finger and a piercing gaze.
“I missed you,”, she whispers, and the tears run faster. She hadn’t wanted that to happen. She has promised herself to hold back, at least for a few days before breaking down. But the shock of her strong orgasm has hit a nerve and her brain has shut down to allow her emotions, her hormones and her heart, to take the wheel. It’s never a good thing.
“I’m just tired missing you,” she sobs against his chest.
He tells her he knows, he tells her he misses her too. He holds her tight and reassures her as much as he can, but something breaks inside her when he says “soon”.
“Two more years. We can make it.”
Maybe he can, but she can’t. She doesn’t even want to. Spending two more years missing him, two more years of painful goodbyes and weeks of loneliness. Two more years of long-distance fights and desperate night calls.
She agrees anyway. It’s the beginning of the vacation, she can’t ruin it on the first day. She can’t do that to him. To them. But she knows, deep down, it could be their last one if they don’t come up with a better plan for their future.
She’s lost in her thoughts. She hasn’t noticed that he’s fumbling behind her back,making a racket with the nightstand.
“What are you doing?” she asks, wiping the tears from her eyes and shifts onto her back underneath him.
He doesn’t answer, but has finally found what he was looking for.
“Got it!” he exclaims with a shy smile on his face. Without more words puts a tiny, black velvet box on her naked stomach.
Never again
Gillovny Ficlet
(NSFW)
The sun bathing his skin and her soft lips around his hard member feel like heaven. There’s nothing like a comfortable lounger on the poolside and losing yourself in the woman of your life’s mouth. The way she opens her eyes and her look pierces through his tinted glasses to reach his gaze when she almost lands at his base drives him crazy. That and the yummy sound escaping her throat and echoing on every fiber of his cock. Somehow, he has always considered this act as one of the biggest proofs of his love. It has been misinterpreted by some in the past, but never with her. He thinks there’s something sacred in a blowjob. He completely abandons himself to her and he allows her to take control, to overpower him. She could hurt him right now. She could severely injure him if she wanted to. She could also release him from this sweet torture any time she wants. She knows where to lick, how hard to suck, when to take him deep and how much time to spend on this spot, at the back of his tip, before he loses it. The most precious part of his body is all hers. He has confided his dick with her lips and his balls to her hand. How this could not be taken as a proof of love?
Oddly, it’s not her tongue swirling on his tip nor her middle finger pressing harder and harder against his ass hole that send him on the edge right now. After all, orgasms could be mostly cerebral, he thinks, because the friction of her hard nipple against his thigh and the sight of her hips raising and lowering as she rubs her sex against his shin eclipses everything else. He can even feel her wetness through the hairs of his leg and wishes he was flexible enough to reach her ass. He wishes he was mentally strong enough to make her stop and turn things around. But his body feels so heavy and weak at the same time. He belongs to her right now, she’s the one who decides when this will be over and how it’ll end.
He hopes it’ll never end.
“I’m done. Can I go now?” she asks with her fingers tightly wrapped around his base and her lips softly caressing the pulsing vein of his cock on every syllable.
He barely heard, his mind is dizzy and his ears are buzzing. He must have misunderstood. Where would she go, and why would she go now anyway? She likes to torture him sometimes, but not like that. Not while still holding him and not when she’s soaking wet on his leg. Now that she’s stopped her exquisite motions, he feels his strengths coming back. Maybe he’s strong enough to lift her and put her on her knees. Hopefully, he’ll be strong enough to stand on his feet behind her.
“Can I go, mister Duchovny?” She uses the sexiest voice she can as he was trying to raise. It still doesn’t make sense, he thinks.
Or maybe it does. She always has to go, it’s crazy. Why would this amazing blowjob be different from their relationship itself? One day she’s here and they’re happy, and the second after she’s on the other side of the world and he’s unable to do anything besides missing her for days. “Yes, go, leave me again! You’re so good at it!” he wants to scream, but his voice remains trapped in his throat and it seems like she’s gone already. He can’t feel her mouth anymore. Her beautiful blue eyes have vanished, such as the sensation of her blond curl brushing the inside of his thighs. What he does feel is the dark hole in his heart, aching and silently screaming for her to come back. In vain.
“Mister Duchov…” A scream of disgust follows his last name and the sight of the back of the cleaning lady rushing towards the house and throwing her apron inside the pool is the first thing he sees as he opens his eyes, finally out of his reverie. After a few seconds of incomprehension, he realizes that his hand inside his tented board shorts is probably the reason of the lady’s anger and disgust. He’ll have a hard time explaining that later…
He puts his glasses on the side of the chair and stands up to jump inside the pool in a gracious diving. He needs to cool both his body and mind after what just happened. Hopefully, after tonight, this kind of dreams won’t end in nightmares of loneliness and abandon anymore. Hopefully, tonight, after her car has crossed his portal for the first time in three months and she has seen the red carpet leading to his door where he’ll be standing in an over-expensive suit, after she walked towards him pretending to not understand what’s happening, after he kneels before her, takes her hand in his, and asks her the same question he had asked her twenty years ago, hopefully she will not go anywhere. Never.
Just Holding Hands 