A special thank you to @iloveurscratchybeard for being an awesome beta.
Tagging: @today-in-fic and @xfpornbattle
Using prompt #28: Mulder and Scully try anal for the first time.
It’s Friday night, and you’re praising a God that you don’t even believe in that you made it through this week— that it’s ending with a half naked woman squirming beneath you. And it’s not just any woman. It’s Scully. Your Scully. Dana Katherine Scully of the FBI is beneath you, soft and warm and needy. And even if you did this every single goddamn day for the rest of your life, you’d die not truly believing that this miracle ever did take place. But here you are.
It’s been a full week since you last had her like this, work and travel and genies taking up far too much of your time. You can’t help but remember the last time, although it’s all a little fuzzy. Too much alcohol coursing into your veins to remember the details, but you seem to recall an incredibly eager Scully offering up much more of herself than usual. It was quite the change from the slow, sensual sex that you’d become accustomed to. This was all passion— animal, almost. Both of you, stripped down to basic instinct.
If it weren’t for the extra caution in her steps and the deep blush on her cheeks when she left your apartment the next morning, you’d wonder if she even remembered exactly what happened. You’ve had plenty of time to convince yourself that she had been too inebriated to remember over the course of the week, but here she was on Friday night, stealing glances and refusing beer— something that she never did during movie nights.
It isn’t until her back arches, rubbing her ass against your cock that you realize exactly what she’s doing. Your body freezes, the words you uttered last week replaying on loop through your mind.
@queequegsrevenge asked for #53 - Drunk and horny S7. Sex is still new to them. They get back from a bar and the minute they get in the door, Scully drops to her knees and starts sucking Mulder off. He holds her head with one hand, and fucks her mouth while holding his cock for her. She masturbates. Mulder pulls her up, they strip while kissing, he throws her face down on the bed and eats her out before he grinds his cock in her ass crack, squeezing the cheeks together and talking dirty. He then fucks her, pulling her hair.
It’s 9:48 on a Saturday night and there’s the thin heel of a shoe dragging up your pant leg. You’re not accustomed to this — an actual social life that doesn’t include dragging a less than impressed Scully to Nowheresville, USA in search of paranormal beings. But you sure as hell could get used to it. Because the Scully sitting next to you is not unimpressed at all. In fact, she looks quite impressed with you.
She grins at you as she sips her drink, straw clenched between perfect, pearly white teeth, and suddenly you’re left breathless. You still can’t believe that you get to see your partner like this — two margaritas deep and flirting shamelessly. These late night activities of yours seem to have opened another side to her; one that you really quite enjoy.
Sucking up the last of her drink, she lets out a hum of satisfaction around her straw. God, you could watch her forever. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but you can’t help but think she even makes drinking look sexy.
A content sigh breaks you from your thoughts. “Mm, these are dangerous.”
“So, another?”
Her laugh is contagious, and the corners of your lips tug up immediately upon hearing it. “I don’t think I could. Maybe something else?”
You nod, a light bulb flashing over your head. Sober Scully might kill you for this idea, but buzzed Scully is an entirely different species — one that you think might actually appreciate your stroke of genius. Grabbing the attention of the bartender, you lean over in an attempt to order quietly. His response is to glance appreciatively at your partner with a wolfish grin, and you’d kill him if only you could blame him.
Her eyebrow raises in response, and you just toss her your best innocent look. From the look on her face, she isn’t falling for it, but in her current state of mind, she can’t really be bothered. At least, not until a shot glass is placed in front of her.
A/N Working out the kinks, as it were. I really don’t know what this is, but it’s not going to leave me alone until I get it out. PWP. NSFW.
They are giddy, high on fresh air and companionship. Walking back from dinner, Scully’s surprisingly dorky laugh rings out across the silvery Georgetown streets while he makes droll commentary about the latest crop of freshmen in the BSU. He feels like an extra in a tooth-whitening commercial, he’s smiling so hard.
Clomp clomp clomp go Scully’s suede boots across her hardwood floors. The fact that she’s left them on to scour the kitchen for wine is a fitting metaphor for the evening’s singularity. He watches, already drunk on affection, as the pink tip of her tongue emerges in concentration while she uncorks the bottle.
It isn’t like them to be so lighthearted, but he’s grown accustomed to their ever-multiplying states of co-existence. First there was Mulder and Scully, work partners. Then there was Mulder and Scully, cautious allies, which soon morphed into Mulder and Scully, co-combatants. Certainly, they are Mulder and Scully, close friends. Occasionally, they’re Mulder and Scully, antagonists and irritants. And most recently, with a degree of prudence that borders on veneration, they have become Mulder and Scully, belated lovers.
It began during the Roche case. The second Roche case, for Mulder. An assignment that drew questions from Scully and Skinner as to whether he should have been on it at all. He was traumatised and engrossed, a dangerous combination for him.
During, in the evening, they talked late in Mulder’s room. He cried and Scully cradled his head in her lap. Things had gotten messy and devastatingly personal. Sleep groggy she helped him off with his shoes, shirt and tie. Dragged his suit pants from his long legs and pulled a blanket over him.
She fussed, brushed her fingers through his hair, told him he could let it go. The case. Other agents could handle it.
He picked a fight, “you don’t trust me,” he accused. “—that I know what I’m doing.”
Trust, Mulder’s Achilles heel.
“I trust you; I do,” she kissed his forehead. “I don’t trust Roche, Mulder. He’s fucking with you and getting off on it.”
“Mmmmm, Mulder…” Her voice is scratchy, fresh from sleep, but the low timbre sounds heavenly in his ears.
“…I love when you do this.” She arches, eyes closed.
His hand flexes, fingers slipping through her silken tresses, nails scratching lightly across her scalp.
“I figured you would…”
A smirk spreads across his face, watching as she purrs like a cat, the tan freckles dotting her blissed out face made bolder by the early morning light. The vibrations of her humming intensify as she burrows closer, skin on skin underneath the sheets.
The first time she wakes up next to Mulder, she stays very still for a moment. Well. She’s woken up next to him a hundred times before, but never naked in her bed. She savors the precious fragile moment of peace. She thought she would be nervous, or afraid, or regretful; instead, joy bubbles up inside her, percolating through all the layers of defenses she’s built over the years. None of them strong enough to withstand one lonely whim, it seems: a pair of forest-green eyes, a pair of warm and agile hands, and the voice that sounds like home to her.
this list | msr | post-ep for s7x04 milennium | fluff & romance | 1.4k words | pg | ao3 link
prompt 16: “i never wanted anything else.”
tagging: @today-in-fic @xffictober
––
“Come on, Mulder. Let’s get you inside.”
Scully’s holding the car door open for him, eyes soft and fond, and he is enamored.
He isn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t for her to drive him home. Maybe a slap, or immediate denial. Maybe an expression of regret, a sour face in wait of apology. Maybe to wake up, discovering all of it had been a fever dream.
Hi, I saw a post about you wanting requests, not sure if they are still open or not. But if they are, I would love to see something with a fluff/angst spin, where Scully comforts Mulder after a tough case and it leads to feelings FINALLY being revealed. If not, sorry to bother you and hope your day is fantastic.
Hello! So sorry this took me so long to write, but prompts are always welcome even if I can’t get to them right away! But happy fictober, I hope you enjoy!
She fought the collapse for as long as she could. She carries him out of the building, into the car, his weight leaning into her small shoulders. He whispered in her ear, questioning if she was ok for the fourth time since they got in the elevator and she offered him reassuring nods and a quirk of her lip, smoothing sweat-slicked hair off his brow as it furrowed, trying to get a read on her. He tried to walk on his own but the exhaustion of sharing your skull with another man overtook him, and he draped his body over her tiny frame, trusting only her to hold him. He crumbled down on top of her and she was forced to stand like Atlas and hold the weight of her world.
Sloughing him off into the passenger seat she drove them home in silence. His phone rang and he blindly reached to answer it, but she snatched it from the center console before he could, silencing it. He stared, dazed and confused, at her set jaw and white knuckles, before he let the silence take him and slumped into the cool window, letting the rumble of the interstate pull his thoughts away.
Her hand met his cheek in a gentle swipe to let him know they had arrived home.
“I can do it” he had insisted, but when he stumbled out of the car she was right at his side, placing a hand on his chest to steady him.
“I’ll walk you up” she replied, and let him try to convince himself he could have made it there without her. His fingers wound their way around her shoulder and she shivered as he gripped her there. But she did not waver. Someone slammed a car door and the sound rang like a gunshot off the cement walls and he was the one with white knuckles now, bruising fingers latched onto her after both of them jumped in fear. He released a breath when she met his eye cautiously, and the pair moved inside.
The elevator was filled to the brim with their silence, she doesn’t know how anyone else could have gotten on. The third floor dinged and doors opened to an empty hallway they were both grateful for. Explaining their fragile state to a neighbor would have been difficult. They walked joined at the hip to his door, and as his hands shook with his key she stole it from his fingers to press it into the lock herself.
He tumbled forward with the door, his final resting place in sight, abandoning her sturdy crutch to fall neatly onto the couch with a grunt. She followed him in, watching him close his eyes and settle into the leather. She stood over him a statue, stillness to conquer his shake, watching as he trembled with exhaustion. She wanted him to rest, she wanted the tension to release itself from his shoulders, she wanted the thoughts that were haunting his mind to leave and never return. She was frightened by how easily she would have killed for him. How thoughts of pure oxygen lept from her brain at the sight of him with that gun pressed to his temple. Her only thoughts were of how to get it, and how when she did she was going to pull the trigger as many times as it would take to get him out of their heads. She wasn’t thinking of all the lives this man had taken from the world, that he was a murderer, a sick bastard who deserved to be dead because of justice. She only cared that he might take away his life.
He went to sit up, but she practically saw the stars spinning behind his eyes. Carefully she pressed him back down onto the couch, his protesting weak.
“You need to rest”, she insisted. He nodded slowly, but wrapped his fingers around her wrist.
“Please don’t leave”, he whispered, and it was her turn to nod. She sank to her knees slowly, and he relaxed his grip on her so she could spin to sit with her back against the couch on the cold floor. Her hand reached up over her shoulder and their fingers twisted together. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back, call and response.
“I was so sure” she heard him mumble. She didn’t know if it was for her to hear, but the silence had seeped so deeply into her ears that she felt like screaming, so she replied.
“Sure about what?”
“Sure that if he had me, I would be able to fight it”, he sighed, choking slightly on his words. She shook her head, amazed at his arrogance.
“Why, Mulder? He pushed people to kill themselves, light themselves on fire. He convinced a man’s heart to stop beating and you truly believed you could fight it?”
He laughed and she felt like shaking him.
“I don’t know. I was his worthy adversary. I knew him, I knew what he wanted, how he ticked. Something in me believed he wouldn’t be able to control me”
His voice grew stronger with every word, and she was inclined to believe him. She couldn’t deny that she’d been praying for the same thing. With all the demons that had haunted them over the years, when she watched him walk through the hospital doors she had wanted to believe that he was strong enough to fight it. He was brilliant, he knew the mind better than anyone she knew, but still it wasn’t enough. She had practically begged him at the table, begged him to be stronger than he was, begged him to do the impossible.
“But he did. And you almost shot yourself”
Her words were bitter and she tasted the bile in her throat at the image of Mulder’s brilliant brains bloody on her blouse, blown to pieces by his own hubris.
“I almost shot you,” he whispered harshly, “That's worse.”
“Mulder how can you say that?” she choked out.
“Because if I died of my own arrogance I would have paid the price for my mistake. If you died because of me I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself”. As he spoke he gripped her palm tighter, stroking his thumb over hers like a metronome for his confession.
“Mulder if you died…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Her head dropped and her mind was invaded with the thought of him gone, wiped from the face of the earth for good, his wonderful confident mind splattered on pristine hospital tile.
She fought the collapse for as long as she could. But her pillar came crumbling to dust and a sob wracked her body. She was supposed to be his strength, she wasn’t the one who’s mind had been invaded, torn in half, pitted against itself. But he pulled on her hand and she twisted up into him, wrapping her arms around his middle. She held onto him for dear life and sobbed into his shirt. The hand she had been holding found a place on the back of her head, pressing her lightly to his stomach, and she felt him shake under her.
“I’m so sorry” he wept, arms wrapping around her and pulling her off her knees into him. She fit herself on top of him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms engulfing her as if he could pull her further into him. His apologies spilled out into her hair as he pressed his lips to her scalp and begged for forgiveness. Eventually the words fell away and only their sniffs and hiccups were left, their tears falling silently in tandem. When even those drifted away, she pulled herself up off of his chest and he followed her, refusing to let her be out of his grasp for even a second.
“Scully I need you to know.” His eyes were wet and pleading. He looked at her with such intensity she was frightened. “I need you to know how much you mean to me”
They were close. Too close. This kind of collapse only comes with closeness and until quite recently they had forbidden this level of intimacy for fear of this exact scenario. She was practically sitting in his lap and his arms were still around her somehow and there was a wet stain in the center of his chest and it was all far too much to deny.
But he needed her to know like she needed him to know, and there was no pretending any more.
“I know” she whispered, so quiet it was almost in her head. He nodded silently and pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes closing, hands falling intertwined again between them.
Slowly she inched her face forward, eyes still closed, exploring the contact between the two of them. Her nose brushed his cheek and she felt him still like a statue, awaiting what was to come. Her lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, quick and dangerous, and she pulled back almost instantly. Her tongue darted out and she tasted the salt of him on her lips. She squeezed his hands, and felt a flutter within her when he pulsed back quickly.
She was braver this time, finding his lips with hers, and he kissed her back instantly, desperate to convey his affection. Neither pushed deeper, allowing the soft contact of lips on lips to linger between them, a simple profession of the utmost devotion.
She pulled back eventually, wanting to look at him fully. She smiled a tentative smile when she saw the pain that had dwelled in his eyes replaced by the smallest glimmer of hope.
“Now there’s that smile I was looking for” he teased, which only resulted in her smile widening.
“You should get some rest Mulder”
“Only if you’ll rest with me”, and he pulled her back down until she lay slotted next to him, face pressed into the warmth of his chest. The silence of sleep taking them both, comforting confessions still hanging in the air surrounding them. They had time to sort through the rubble tomorrow. For now, their time belonged to them and them alone.
Fic prompt: what if it wasn’t skinner in the hospital when Scully said she was pregnant but mulder? What if skinner called him about Scully fainting and him not getting on that plane to Oregon? How would he react ? And the. Bringing her home? How would that go down? It would be so awesome if you could write that! I love all your fics you are a gift to my fic world on here ❤️
Thank you so much for your kind words. I didn’t exactly stick to the prompt but mostly. Fluff with a hint of angst?, set in “Requiem”. Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober
Fictober Day 11
He crashes through the door to her hospital room like a drunken man returning home. He stops there, panting and staring at her.
“Scully,” he says, her name spilling from his mouth like a question. “Are you okay?” He finds his voice along with his feet and walks over to her, taking her hand into his. Warm, he thinks. That must be a good sign.
“Why are you here?” she asks and it’s only now that he sees tears shimmering in her eyes. He wishes he’d never left. “I thought you and Skinner were already on your way to Oregon.”
“We were,” he says, stroking her hand. “Our flight was delayed. The Gunmen called Skinner as soon as you fainted. We were just about to board when he got the call.”
“You let him go alone?”
“No. I- um, I might have caused a slight ruckus at the airport and, um, we were asked to leave. He drove me here.”
“What kind of ruckus, Mulder?” Scully asks, amusement in her voice.
“That doesn’t matter now. You fainted. Did the doctor- what are they saying? Did they check you out? What is it, Scully? Is it-“ his voice cracks. On his way over here, the only thought that permeated his brain was that Scully was sick. Again. The cancer had returned. There was no other explanation. From her having the chills in Oregon, to staying in his arms all night, to fainting once, and now twice, the only possible truth is staring him in the face.
“They did,” Scully says, sounding calm. She puts her hand on his as if he were the one who’s sick, who needed to be comforted. “They ran some tests on me and there will be more but… I don’t know how to say this to you.” He watches her, tears burning in his eyes. She laughs, hiccups, all at once. Then her eyes settle on his. He braces himself for the impact. She’s fought it once, she can do it again. He will be there every step of the way, fighting with her.
“You can tell me.” The truth in a whisper.
“I’m having a hard time explaining it. Or believing it but, um…” she pauses and takes a deep breath. He stops breathing. His ears are ringing. He wishes he could close his eyes but he doesn’t even dare to blink.
“I’m, oh my God, Mulder, I’m pregnant.”
It takes him a moment. Maybe two. Probably even three. Then he realizes what she’s said. Pregnant. She is not dying, not at all.
“You’re-“
“I know we haven’t exactly talked about it again after the IVF but I-“
“I’ve never been so happy in my entire life, Scully.” He takes her into his arms, holds her tightly, albeit awkwardly on the small hospital bed. “You’re having a baby. It worked. We did it. You’re pregnant.” He starts peppering kisses on her cheeks, her throat, her neck. She giggles and it’s the most joyful sound in the world.
“You’re okay, right? And the baby? You’re both okay?” He puts his hand on her flat stomach.
“We’re okay. Are you… okay?”
“Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We never talked about what would happen if the IVF worked and then we started sleeping together and now…”
“And now we’ve got a little miracle growing inside you.” He beams at her.
“You’re happy.” It’s not a question.
“Scully, when I agreed to the IVF, I knew what I was saying yes to. I was all in from the get-go. I love you. I love you, and I love little Junior here. I’ve never been so happy to have missed a flight.” He leans closer and gently kisses her. He tastes tears and he can’t tell if they’re hers or his. For a moment he considers proposing to her. The question is sweet on his tongue, but he swallows it. There’s time.
“I love you, too, Mulder. I should have told you before you left, but I was-“
“Scully, you’ve been showing me every day that you love me. Not that I mean hearing it every now and then,” he finishes with a grin. “When can you leave? I’m taking you home.”
She chuckles. “In a couple of hours. I was going to call my mom but now that you’re here...”
“We have to tell your mom,” Mulder says slowly. “And Skinner.”
“Are you ready for that?” she asks. He stares at her, at the full, rosy cheeks and the healthy glow about her he didn’t notice when he barged in. Right now, he is ready for just about everything.
Feelings of warmth, safety and something close to happy, bubbled to the surface as she sat on Mulder’s worn leather couch. The Aztec blanket haphazardly thrown over both of them, with his arm securely slung over her and his fingers resting on her hips made her giddy. Or maybe that was the beer. Truthfully, she didn’t know. Her head was on his chest, and she was barely listening to what was playing on the television.
“Mulder,” she begins with an agenda. “Let’s go to bed.”
It’s so easy, this thing between them, that she forgets that she can now touch him. Like, really touch him.
“Do we have to?” He’s kidding, of course he’s kidding. She can tell just by the look on his face.
“Come,” she beckons, grabbing his hand, and leading him toward his bedroom.
She’s laughing, as he trails behind her, and they don’t quite make it to the bed, when he pushes her against the wall. His eyes gleaming, and a smirk plays on his lips. “Tired?” He asks, pinning her, knowing fully that she isn’t the least bit tired. Two can play at this, she thinks, and responds by grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head.
She licks her lips, just as he leans down and kisses her. The contact is almost too much, and she feels her body respond, “Bed,” she breathes, feeling overstimulated and wanton.
“As you wish,” he replies, kissing her neck, making her moan.
“Maybe I should make you watch the princess bride more often, Mulder...”
Set after the Unnatural with one little mention of triangle.
She messed up and she knew it.
Last week on this day, it was like walking on air she felt so good. Flirting in the morning had turned into baseball at night, a private lesson from none other than Fox Mantle. A private lesson she didn’t need growing up with brothers and surrounded by America’s most patriotic, but she let him think otherwise.
The military loved baseball. Everyone loved baseball. She loved it even more now.
She would listen to him teach her the fundamentals of anything, hips before hands, Scully, as long as he kept touching her like that. Leaning into her like that.
Breaths slightly labored and she had a feeling it had more to do with just the physical exertion of smacking leather into the stars.
Afterwards, when they were alone, they walked with hips bumping, laughing, talking about nothing. And it was everything. Scully came to the sudden realization that this was a date, or at least it felt like one.
And when he had her pinned against her car with his warmth and his smell and his smile, his eyes spoke of something different, more intimate, and she realized this was a date.
Their first date.
He confirmed it with a too serious look and a slow, slow advance of his lips towards hers. And god it was going to happen and god it was too much so suddenly.
She turned at the very last second and his target was missed, the contrast of budding stubble and hot mouth hitting her cheek chastely, too quickly. She felt her stomach drop in shame. She wanted this, they deserved this, why can’t she allow this?
He laughed off his embarrassment, though it was clearly written all over his pink face and in his averted eyes. She pretended for his sake that he meant to swoop in for a friendly kiss, and bid him goodnight, a lump forming in her throat as she watched him go before clambering into her own vehicle.
Scully hurt him. And she hurt herself.
She fucked up.
Out of the two of them, an outsider would easily say it was Spooky Mulder who held all the cards on interpersonal dysfunction. But it was her. It was always her.
As a child she had a close bond with her father, closer than the rest of her siblings she thought. So every time he went off to sea it threatened to destroy her. Sure, she put on a brave face, did well in school and at home as to not upset the balance of things. She wanted Ahab to be proud of her, always.
But alone, she would suffer from it terribly, cry herself to sleep thinking he wasn’t going to come back to her, thinking that eventually, everyone she loved would be gone forever, and after some time she stopped getting so attached to anyone.
By the time she was in college she was an expert in being the one who loved less. When you loved less, it hurt less when things fell apart.
But she didn’t- love less that is. Not Mulder. She loved Mulder with all of her heart. She didn’t know how that came to be but it happened, and denying it by dodging kisses wasn’t going to solve anything.
Mulder loved her and they both knew Demerol wasn’t to blame for him saying so.
He wanted more. He was ready for more and that night at home base he tried to show her. So what did she do? Took the cowards way. She ran from it knowing that it wouldn’t make any difference to her undeniable feelings. Knowing it would only make things worse.
The work week after had been nearly unbearable, that equilibrium she’s striven to keep in life severely thrown off, tossing them both without mercy into a suffocating environment of what now?
Mulder would barely look at her, barely speak to her outside of professional observations. After all they had been through, would one awkward encounter destroy them? It wasn’t likely, not unless…
Not unless Mulder thought she really didn’t love him. Not unless he truly thought he’d made a miscalculation somewhere down the line and believed that they were never going to happen. If that was the case, a botched kiss and a bruised ego wasn’t what he was suffering from.
It was heartbreak.
She was ready now. The fact she cried the whole way home from the field should have clued her in. There would be no more running from this.
She would fix it. She had to fix this.
*****
“I want to try again,” she says as soon as he opens his door to her, before he has any chance to form some excuse to avoid her unannounced presence.
She’s been fidgeting, her nerves threatening to split her apart at the seams and send her every which way, but now that he is in front of her, all mussed up hair and squinty eyes, she’s frozen stock still, holding her breath.
“Scully, what-”
But that is enough to spring her into action. She can’t take any conversation right now, isn’t sure if she could articulate what she’s feeling with words.
And if she doesn’t do this now, she’ll lose her nerve. So she practically jumps into his arms, grabbing onto his face with both hands and kissing him, hard. Enough to leave her mark.
You are mine Fox Mulder. Don’t you ever doubt it.
It takes a too long moment that has her heart exploding in nervous what if’s, but then he is kissing her back, clutching onto her waist and pulling her up and impossibly closer to him, opening his mouth to her and that’s it, that’s what I came here for. This is what I’ve been missing.
They were going to be alright. She would make sure of it.
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