David Duchovny warms shivering Gillian Anderson with his jacket, NYCC Oct 2013 💕 😍

It’s a protective, sexy, ownership gesture.

Lending you his [jacket] says ‘what’s mine is yours’, something that’s been close to their skin is now close to yours (and vice versa when you give it back).

It smelled of him to begin with; it’ll smell of you when you return it. Plus, it links you: he has to hang around to get it back.”

~ Extract from ’Superflirt’ by Tracey Cox  

(I don’t think we need a Psychologist to interpret the sheer delight on Gillian’s face. Aww!)   [source: linked in my Gillovny Videos post]

a-january-girl  asked:

Okay, I saw you wanted us to give you prompts to inspire some new RPF fic... Would you consider writing the BTS of the Mark Mann photoshoot for me? Preferably with a little bit of smut pleaaaaase :D haha, bisous 😘

When she enters the dark room, he’s here already. “Shit!” she thinks. However, her cab picked her up first at his apartment, he must have been slower than the Uber driver he ordered. That’s the second time she loses this little game this week. Next time, she takes the Uber, she notes for herself before heading towards the photographer.

“Hi, Gillian,” he greets her with a hug and a soft chaste kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, Mark,” she answers back. “Hi, David.”

“What? No kisses for me?” David complains, playfully.

No. No kisses for him. She knows trying to hide their relationship by not drawing too much attention to them can actually have the opposite effect, but she never knows how to behave normally in those situations. If she kisses him on the cheek, she knows it would sound fake. She can’t kiss him on the lips. She’s not going to hug him like he’s her army buddy. She can’t shake his hand either. So she just smiles at him. With a simple smile, no one can guess she teared up the leather of his couch with her fingernails an hour later.

“If one day, someone has told me I would make David Duchovny jealous…” Mark says, chuckling and leading them towards the set.

It’s very minimalist, with very little light, a simple small stool resting on a crumpled black sheet.  

“Do you have a second one?” she asks, nodding at the stool.

“Nope.” Mark, answers without hesitation. “Only one. I thought it would be better. It’ll give you guys more complicity, intimacy.” he says, making the settings of his camera.

“Chemistry?” David deadpans.

“Chemistry! Exactly! Okay, sit down as you like.”

David obeys first, resting one cheek on the stool, leaving enough room for Gillian to sit next to him. They’re so close she can smell the remnant of their sexing behind the scent of soap after the quick shower he took a few minutes ago. She’d better focus on what they’re doing instead of thinking of what he just did to her, especially because Mark has already begun to take pictures. One says Photography reveals the truth. It must be true because she just notices his hand on the side of her right cheek and hers on his thigh. That’s what happens when they stop paying attention. He even grabs her wrist, now. She starts to wonder if he really was jealous earlier. He’s so territorial and protective at the same time, it’s hot and cute. One would call it professionalism, but only Gillian knows what it really is. Love. Plain and simple. He doesn’t hide, he doesn’t pretend and it’s stressing her. He looks so at ease while she’s fidgeting over his thigh.

“That’s really good, guys!” Mark interrupts her thoughts. “Gillian, can you come closer? Maybe try to whisper in his ear. I need a few sexy poses.”

She obeys, and focuses her attention on the red mark, here, just behind his ear. She made it. She’s so close she could just dart out her tongue and soothe it. He would love it. It would maybe be enough to make him hard. He squeezes her wrist harder like he heard her thoughts.

“I lost.” she whispers in his ear. He nods imperceptibly and grins, still staring at the camera. “Do you know what you’re gonna do to me?” she continues, slightly leaning against him and rubbing her shoulder against his torso. “Do you want to use the toys again, David?” she teases, making him silently grunt and shift on the stool. “How do you want to fuck me, David?” A droplet of sweat starts to form on his temple. “From behind?”

“Okay!” David screams, a little louder than necessary. “Do you have everything you need?”

She may have lost the race, but she won this little game easily. She didn’t respect the rules, though, and she knows it. She’ll happily let him have his revenge later. There’ll be another joint appointment sooner or later, another race, another Uber to pick and another chance for her to win. And this time, he’d better be ready to satisfy all her wishes and desires. She remembers when they started to play this game. He lost a bet a few years ago, and she won the right to tie him up at the bed and do whatever she wanted. Since then, they have taken every occasion to play, and for her own pleasure, she’s in a loose spiral lately. He accused her to lose on purpose, but she didn’t tell her cab to slow down, after all. Or maybe she did, just a little. She may love to be in control in her everyday life, but sometimes, in the intimacy of a bedroom, or a bathroom, or a kitchen, it feels good to let him overpower her. To feel him pump hard inside her, to have his strong hands deep in the flesh of her cheek, to let him whisper insanities in her ear.

“Yeah, sure.” Mark says. “Can we just take one together? Do you mind?”

David looks like he would have preferred to run away, to get out and calm the emerging bump in his jeans, but she pushes him away playfully, making room for Mark on the stool. Tonight, after her dinner, she’ll be his, but now, she’s the boss and he knows it well when kneeling at her feet, watching her sit on Mark’s lap, powerless.

“Don’t be jealous, David,” Mark teases. “I’ll give her back to you in a few.”

He knows.


You tried to take her place. You let him marry you. I’ve seen his face - his eyes. They’re the same as those first weeks after she died. I used to listen to him, walking up and down, up and down, all night long, night after night, thinking of her, suffering torture because he lost her!