#gillovnyfluff

[foxgrovebooks]

like a river flows

just some gillovny fluff :-)

rated M

“are you sleeping?”

this is purely a work of fiction, i don’t wanna offend any of you

hope y’all enjoy (read on ao3 here)

thank you to @synchronict for the absolutely beautiful art work!

"Are you sleeping?" He was just fluttering on the edges of consciousness when he heard her soft whispers.

"Not any more." She chuckled lightly and he smiled, blinking away the sleepiness that grasped him so tightly. "What's up?" He lay still and watched as her body stretched over his, her head coming to rest in the middle of his bare chest. Her blonde hair fell in front of her eyes and he lifted a heavy finger to brush it behind her ear.

"I'm not sleepy." He huffed out a laugh and closed his eyes, letting his head droop lower into his pillow.

"That makes one of us." She kissed his sternum as an apology and rested her cheek against his skin, breathing his scent in deeply. Her hands lay gently on his shoulders, her fingers drifting slowly up his neck.

"You smell good." She kissed his chest again and looked up at his face, jaw slack with exhaustion. She studied him for a while, her body moving up and down with the force of his deep breathing. "Did you mean it?" He grunted a little and his eyes scrunched up, his hand moving to hold her arm.

"Mean what?"

"Earlier, with that guy... when you said I was your best friend." She was referring to their lunch earlier, when one of David's costars had cornered them on the set of Californication. He'd laughed and joked about how he thought they were banging in the nineties, and David had fit his arm around Gillian's shoulders and said that they weren't even friends in the nineties. But she was his best friend now.

His eyes opened and he studied her, the last remnants of his much needed sleep disappearing from his clouded eyes. He sat up a little and she clung tighter to his shoulders as he brought his pillow up to support his new position. He ran a hand through his mussed hair and his palm passed over his face.

"Of course I did." She smiled at him, a genuine one that he had learned to treasure, and he smiled back.

"So... what does that make us? Best friends who have occasional sex? Best friends with benefits?" He laughed and her grin widened, baring her teeth. His fingers moved to grasp her chin and they lightly caressed the flushed skin of her cheek.

"I'd say it's more than occasional." She dropped her head back to his chest to hide her unexpected embarrassment and his hand ran from her cheek to the back of her neck and he massaged the muscles he found there. "I'd have to say... you're my best friend...", he paused slightly and pinched her side, "...who I have occasional to frequent sex with." She threw her head back and laughed but she knew him well enough to know that his noted silence meant he wanted to continue, so her chuckles died down to quiet wisps of air leaving her parted lips. "Who I am totally and irrevocably in love with."

Her eyes snapped from his lips to his eyes and she held his gaze for what seemed like hours. They had been 'together' for nearly just a year. The closeness that they had agreed to share wasn't technically exclusive, she hadn't been with anyone except him, but she knew she'd be disappointed if she found out he had, although she'd never tell him so. A few quick "I love you's" had been exchanged every now and then, normally when their guards were down in the throes of passion or during the normal domesticity of their shared mornings, and each one was met with a pregnant pause and sideways glances. She knew deep down that she was in love with this man, her best friend, her sometimes always lover. She found herself at a loss for words at his confession but couldn't drag her eyes away from his. Her own began to water and his thumb moved to brush it away before it led a wet trail down her cheek.

Her fingers weaved their way into his cropped messy hair as she cupped his face as she found the only words she knew.

"And you are mine." She smiled and he joined their lips together, drinking in the taste of her that he could never forget nor get enough of. One of his hands clasped her head as their tongues danced together, the other resting on her back, drawing circles on her fevered skin. She pulled back from his kiss, still smiling, and let her forehead touch his. "You know...", she whispered, "I think there's a shorter way of saying 'best friend who you occasionally to frequent have sex with whom you're totally and irrevocably in love with'."

"Let's leave that conversation for another day, hm? When it's not three in the morning?" She nodded her head against his and captured his lips for another closed mouth kiss.

"I love you. I'm so in love with you. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to burst because I love you so damn much... It's always been you David." It was a whispered prayer, the words ready to be forever tattooed on his heart, the implications already binding themselves to his soul. She felt him stir against her leg at her words and she was surprised to look into his eyes and see a small stream of salty tears dripping onto his pouty bottom lip. She licked them away as she sought out his mouth for a warm solace. She shifted her body a top his so she was straddling him lightly and he moaned into their kiss as his length rubbed against her folds. She drew back from his lips, her hips undulating against him.

"Still sleepy?" Her fingers drew little circles in his sparse chest hair and a playful smile graced her lips. His hands moved from her neck, trailing down her sides, and grasped her waist, speeding up her movements.

"What have you got in mind?"

"Well I wasn't thinking of leaving the bed." His fingers dug into the firm flesh of her ass and she let out a small whimper.

"Sounds like a plan," he mumbled against the straight of her clavicle as he planted wet kisses along it and up her neck.

Her body moved off from his despite the desperate grab of his hands and she lay next to him, her leg still dragged over his. Her voice was nonchalant and casual as she placed her hand over his rapidly beating heart.

"Great. So what episode of Breaking Bad should we watch?" He caught her hands and pushed her to the other side of the bed, laughing loudly and shaking his head from side to side. He pressed her down into the mattress as she was shaking with the force of her laughter, and attached his mouth to the side of her neck.

"Oh no little lady, you don't get to do that to me." Her chuckles subsided as his lips moved lower, passing her soft breasts and heading towards her navel.

Her hand combed through his hair as he showered the flat of her stomach with kisses, still edging closer to the juncture of her thighs.

"It's why you love me." He looked up at her from in between her legs and smiled.

"Yes, I suppose it is."

[foxgrovebooks]

does art imitate life, or does life imitate art?

rated NC-17

“She is, as has been said, enigmatic. Inscrutable, impenetrable, mysterious. Again, am I? I don’t think I’m necessarily mysterious, but would my friends say that I am difficult to know? To get a handle on? Probably. I think that I am pretty clear about where she and I are different, and very clear about the fact that she is not me. Oh, to embody half of what she brings to the table!”

this is purely a work of fiction

y’all can read it on ao3 here! enjoy!

art by me!

JUNE 2012

They’d been seeing each other for only a few months. Her relationship with Mark had turned sour by the end of the previous year, their arguments becoming more and more heated, the sex less and less frequent. It was after the passing of her brother Aaron that she noticed the death of their partnership. Instead of slinking into the arms of the father of her children, she found herself pressed up against the warm chest of her ex co-star. His lips had muttered the right things and his hands had touched all the right places, and before she knew what they were doing, they had fallen into bed together. It wasn’t the first time, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. She knew then, that if she couldn’t find solace in her supposed life partner, then it wasn’t going anywhere. She hadn’t seen or spoken to David since he arrived unannounced to the funeral, so was surprised when she received a Christmas card from him in the mail. She hadn’t sent him one in return, out of some misplaced loyalty to her boyfriend.

They agreed to meet at the beginning of January, just to catch up. She knew they’d end up sleeping together. She kissed her boys and Mark goodbye and told them she’d be back in a few days. He knew it was his final goodbye kiss. He knew when she came back, it would be the end, but he let her go anyway. She hadn’t planned to leave Mark for David, it just ended up that way. His marriage with Téa was long over, and the arrogance that pushed her away from him in the nineties had mellowed. What started as casual sex, a coupling of convenience, soon turned into something rather loving. The sex was frantic and incredible, but their afterglows lasted longer than before, and they often found themselves waking up in each other’s embrace, their bodies slick from sex and yet their faces plastered with smiles.

“I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere for lunch tomorrow?” She was sitting on his bed at his place in LA, he was in the bathroom opposite her, washing off a day’s worth of TV makeup from his face. He was filming Californication, his Hank Moody stubble still dusted across his chin. She’d arrived in the States a few hours earlier, visiting him on set, ready to meet his co-stars, although if anyone asked, she was just passing through, meeting an old friend. Three weeks is how long she had to stay with him before her schedule demanded her elsewhere, yet it was still longer than what they were used to. Now, the sky outside was turning purple as the day drew to a close. It was the first time they’d been truly alone together all day, stealing kisses behind closed doors and in dark corners. She felt like a teenager, sneaking around behind her mother’s back, and she wasn’t sure it held the same appeal it did all those decades ago.

“Sure, that’d be nice. I know a few quiet places in Soho.” There was that word again - quiet. David loved using that word lately. Their relationship was quiet, everywhere they went had to be quiet, and any friends they met together had to be quiet. She understood, really she did. He was still married, and in the eyes of the press, she wasn’t single either, although she never understood completely his undying need for secrecy. Friends went out for lunch, and that’s what they wanted people to think they were, right? Just friends? Gillian hummed a reply as she waited for him to join her in his bedroom. She was still fully dressed in her yellow summer dress, whereas she noted with some delight that he’d decided to strip himself of his signature black shirt in the bathroom. “I was thinking we’d order in tonight. Have some time alone together.” She looked up from the window to her left and saw him stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his eyebrows wiggling at her.

“I’d like that.” She smiled at him as he walked over to her on the bed and stood in front of her knees. Lifting her chin with his hand, he bent over her slightly and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue sank into her mouth and she moaned at the welcome intrusion, her hands finding their way into his soft hair. His lips moved from her swollen mouth down her neck to the beginning of her collarbone and he suckled, making her throw her head back slightly to give him better access to the fevered skin there. He began to push her down to the bed slowly, his lips still attached to her clavicle. Her eyes shot open and her hands moved down to his chest, pushing him back to where he was. He removed his lips from her to voice a protest, a worried one, but she quickly captured them again, sending them both into a bruising hard kiss, where they both examined the insides of each other’s mouths as if they were trying to map it and commit it to memory. She stood up with him, the height difference still meaning his neck was craned down towards her. Her hands were back at his chest again, pushing him away, but this time she’d turned them around so he fell to the bed with a heavy thump. The roles were reversed, and he grabbed onto her waist to bring her closer to him between his parted thighs.

She shook her head slowly, staring intently down at him, and nudged his hands off her body. He left them limply by his sides and he returned her gaze, his fingers twitching at the thought of holding her. She bent down slightly, her hand reaching up her dress skirt, and it took him a while to realise that she was removing her already soaked panties. His erection began straining against his jeans as he watched them slowly slide down her toned legs before she simply discarded them by the side of the bed. Her hands reached for the button of his jeans, undoing it and pulling apart his zipper. The angle of her body hunched over his, undressing him, gave him the perfect view down the top of her dress, and his fingers lifted to trace the edge of her cleavage. Her hands swiftly grasped onto his and pulled them down to his side, more forcefully than last time, and her eyes held a ferocity that he hadn’t seen before when they exchanged glances. She pressed his hands into the mattress for a few more seconds until she thought he had learned his lesson, and then thrust her hands against his shoulders, making him lie down flat on the mattress. His jeans were pulled off within seconds, his boxers travelling down his lean legs shortly after.

He lay before her, completely naked atop the comforter, his breath escaping his parted lips in small pants as he watched her climb on top of him. Her hand grasped his length and he hissed through his teeth. “Gillian…” She gave his dick a hard squeeze and he yelped, the movements of her wrist stilling. She was warning him again - no touching, no talking. He relented, a small smile gracing his lips. Her hand resumed its movements, slowly stroking up and down, and David’s face fell slack as he surrendered to the feel of her pleasuring him. Her legs straddled his, and he saw her bend forward slightly, his eyes slipping shut as he waited for the feel of her full lips wrapped around his cock. His loud gasp interrupted the silence of his bedroom as he realised that it wasn’t her mouth he was sliding into, but her hot, wet folds. His neck tilted upwards to watch her slowly sink onto his length, her eyes watching him with rapture. She was hot and ready and so so tight and his hands clutched onto the sheets with such an intensity he was sure he would rip them. His hips gave an involuntary jerk into their new surroundings, and her fingernails quickly found their way to his fevered skin, digging in. Third warning, or was it fourth? Her body began to move up and down, slowly, and she tipped her head back, lost in the full feeling of having him inside her. It took all of his will power to not latch onto her hips and thrust blindly into her, to not leave little purple marks where his fingers would grab her with force. Her pace quickened, and he missed seeing her breasts move up and down with her body’s movements. He felt her tight walls squeeze him and let out a breathy moan, hoping that hadn’t broken any of her rules. For tonight at least, David Duchovny was on his best behaviour.

Suddenly she arched her back, changing the angle of his penetration, and her clit deliciously rubbed against his length on every down stroke. She whimpered once, which was the only noise she had made except for her breathing, and he was jealous of her ability to keep control as he’d been emitting a steady strain of grunts for a few minutes now. Her hands stayed by her side, swaying, and he could see her fingers twitching, but refrained from grasping onto them. He so badly wanted to begin lifting his hips, meeting her halfway, and more than anything, he wanted to rub that engorged clit of hers that lay so dangerously close to his dick. But as he noticed with a moan, she beat him to it, reaching her hand up the dress skirt that covered their joining to relieve herself of some tension. Her walls began to flutter around him and they both knew their releases were imminent. Her thighs began to shake either side of him as she lifted herself higher and higher, only to plummet down onto him again faster and harder than the time before. She was the only silent one when they came, him following her into oblivion, and their eyes locked as they soared.

He expected her to drop lifeless onto his chest as she recovered, to let his hands come around her back and press her to him as he rained sweet kisses onto her damp hairline, but instead she lifted herself off of his softening cock and walked straight into his bathroom, closing the door behind her. He stared at her retreating back with a look of disbelief before a small smile played across his lips. They hadn’t had sex like that in a long time. He heard the run of water as she turned on the shower and contemplated joining her, but he looked back at his inviting bed and decided to exact his revenge underneath its soft covers. He must have drifted off because the next thing he felt was a dip in the mattress as she slipped her body next to his. Without opening his eyes, he pulled her back to his chest, missing the feel of her naked skin on his and kissed her shoulder. She hummed contently and his hands brushed lower on her stomach in response, coming to rest on the curls at the top of her thighs. Her hand came down to grasp his and pulled it back up to the safety of her torso, as her head burrowed further into the pillow that they shared. It wasn’t like her to refuse a little mutual masturbation, but he didn’t press her, she’d had a long day.

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, letting it linger for a while, before he heard a quiet goodnight escape her perfect little lips. “Sweet dreams, babe.” And with that, he let his eyes close, content for now to just keep her close to him as they slept.

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