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Because it's always, always, always about intimacy.
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@msrafterdark
Full version on AO3 // Full version on Twitter
Because it's always, always, always about intimacy.
(Please consider supporting my work on Patreon!)
She Comes First
It has been literally years since I've done a collaboration project with a fellow X-Phile creator, and so I'm grateful I had the opportunity to do so with fan-writer @xfnessy for one of her stories.
Nessy, thank you for the opportunity to work with you and thank you for the endless patience over the many months it took for me to complete this project.
[ Full drawing on AO3 ]
Read "She Comes First" on AO3 here! Please make sure to comment and support Nessy's lovely work!!
Let's start with a clean slate. I am going to do my damndest—regardless of the amount of content I am creating at any given time—to consistently acknowledge the wonderful people who have my back month in and month out. I'm picking up the monthly shout outs again and will do my best to continue.
[ Patreon Link ]
MSR painting of a scene from my -admittedly not so good- attempt at fanfic
going to bed is great because you can have mulder and scully time. this is when you create scenarios where mulder and scully are doing things until you fall asleep.
He awakens with a start, heart thudding, unaware of what brought him to consciousness.
She is curled against him in a perfect parenthesis, the soft puff of her steady breath like kisses in the dip of his clavicle.
His eyes fall closed and her warmth lulls him back into sleep.
He's making eggs for breakfast. She comes up behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.
"You okay?"
She nods her head against his back, her nose still buried in his shirt.
"I'm so happy it scares me," she whispers.
AU: He doesn't understand why they're pulling him away. Doesn't understand why they're unhooking her wires and tubes. She was tired yesterday but she was ALIVE.
"She's still warm," he sobs like a child, gripping onto Scully's frail little body, "Please, don't; she's still warm."
The First
( AO3 Link )
His bare chest is soft and firm beneath her cheek as she contemplatively runs her fingertip up and down his breastbone. It's nearing midnight, she'll probably regret that they let sex run this late when she has to heed her alarm in less than six hours and drag herself out of this wonderful cocoon. Right now though, when she's sated and warm and feeling so unbearably content, she can't bring herself to care. Everything feels too good. Her thoughts are fuzzy and unguarded when they're like this.
"I wish you'd been my first," she confesses to his sternum, slotting her fingers into the faint grooves of his ribs. His chest vibrates with a quiet chuckle.
"I dunno Scully, seven years was worth the wait but do you really want to extend that to thirty-six?"
"No, I mean," she stirs, nestling closer into his side, "When I'd had sex for the first time, I wish it somehow could have been with you. And it was fine back when it happened, I don't regret it, but it would have been nice to be with someone so in tune with what I want, someone who pays attention to my needs. Before you I'd never been with a man who's made me feel so unrestrained but so incredibly safe. Sex has never felt like an expectation, it's just been so...effortless."
He's silent, reflective for several moments, and for a heartbeat she wonders if she's revealed too much, a hesitation born of habit rather than application of the current circumstances. He nuzzles his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply.
"I'm touched that's your depiction of me," his voice is surprisingly gravely when he does speak, "Frankly I'm flattered that your perspective of our sex life has been so...transformative."
"It has been. It is," she hears the playfulness in his voice but reads the honesty beneath, and her own reply is deathly sincere. For two people who had been so chronically constipated in verbal communication in the past, physical intimacy has seemed to peel back all reluctance now.
"Hopefully it doesn't need to be stated that the same is true for me, Scully."
"I'm glad. Who knows," she props herself up to gaze down at him, stroking that perfectly sized patch of hair on his chest, "Perhaps in another life virgin Dana Scully is having her mind absolutely blown by a very capable and irresistible Fox Mulder right as we speak." He looks back up at her, clearly delighted. She adores him in all states but like this especially: all rumpled and mussed in her bed and improbably, impossibly hers.
"Did—did my intelligent and skeptical partner just suggest the possibility of alternate universes in bed, no less? Scully, three rounds in one night, a man can only take so much."
"Oh shut up, Mulder," she laughs, feeling free, feeling wanted, feeling loved.
Good to Him
( AO3 Link )
This is the third time she’s had him in her mouth and she’s rapidly discovering how much she loves it. Loves his scent, the velvet of his skin, the male heat of him surrounding her as he twitches and gasps. She laves her tongue up the hefty length of him, tracing the plump veins and elegant curves. She grazes her nails in little nondescript patterns over his tensed thighs, leaving light red lines in her wake.
His own fingers are suddenly sunk into her shower-damp waves and she internally braces herself, almost instinctively. She expects him to start guiding or to push her head down before she’s ready. Too often in the past a boyfriend or partner had attempted to direct without finesse, had tried to navigate her like a tool for their own pleasure without much regard for her comfort or control.
So she’s surprised when instead of moving her downward, Mulder lifts her up and off him. It takes everything within her not to pout. She’s dissatisfied at the sight of his now straining, neglected erection—dark pink and shiny and so, so beautifully hard. His eyes are glassy when he pulls back to regard her, his pupils blown out. The hand on the back of her head scratches pleasantly at her scalp. She wants his salt back on her tongue immediately but he intercepts and draws her in for a kiss. She sighs into the caress; “Gotta stop,” he pants into her open, swollen mouth, “S’too good. Gotta stop, Scully.”
She feels the hot flush of gratification and pride brimming through her at his open praise, at the way he’s clearly trying to collect himself. Of course it’s different with Mulder. Of course it is. He takes a few quick breaths and when that doesn’t appear to be enough, quickly grips himself at the base of his impressive length with a huff of mild panic. She smirks, her confidence restored and pecks at his slackened lips.
“If you think that’s good,” she purrs against the slightly humid skin of his furrowed forehead, “I have clearly not been doing this often enough.”
She tactfully maneuvers his hand away with her own, replacing his clutch of control with her clasp of surrender, and his helpless groan causes goosebumps to emerge over her entire body. She’s been quickly realizing how much she loves every arising aspect of this new facet in their relationship. Tonight she delights in his moans as she slips him back into her mouth, the way he seems nearly overwhelmed by what she’s doing to him. He’s close to begging her now, whimpering little ‘…please’s and ‘oh, it’s so good…’s. She cradles the tight smoothness of his balls in her hand and gently squeezes, just as she flicks the tip of her tongue right at the little opening of his head. He shudders and sucks in a sharp breath, bowling over as if in pain but the warm, steady spurts of his come down her throat signify the very opposite. His hand is back in her hair again, not moving, just grasped in the thick strands for another point of connection as he falls apart. She hopes she’s giving him even a fraction of the rapture he gives her, often multiple times a night.
As he catches his breath they lay together, her head propped on his chest as she strokes the silky trail of hair down his belly. She drags a gentle knuckle across the length of his softening cock just to make him twitch. He hums and she feels the pull for him in her womb when his hand curls possessively around her hip.
“You’re so good to me,” he confesses lowly into her neck, “You’re so damn good to me.”
💤💤
they keep putting romance in everything. and it isn't even well written romance. they don't even write it well.
I forgot my laptop at work and I just DON'T feel like driving 45 minutes on a Sunday night to pick it up so there's me writing smut on my gaming PC. lmao
scully really is a prime example of male writers' misogyny and the fact that the only character development they can think of for a woman is either becoming a wife or getting pregnant, preferably both.
the entire fertility arc is one big insult to what she could have been, and personally i'm dying on the hill that she never actually wanted to have a child. she didn't. she still doesn't. instead of focusing on her being a doctor, a scientist, a navy brat, losing missy, literally anything at all, we got pregnancy and the lack thereof.
she could have been so fucking happy without that bullshit.
there’s something so special to me as a girl in her mid-twenties watching the x-files and seeing a main female character that is interesting and compelling and beginning the series in her late-twenties.
because so many tv series and films and books (i’m looking at you romantasy) focus on teenage girls or women who are in their very early twenties. (even when they are portrayed by significantly older actresses but that’s a whole other conversation)
because scully’s just starting out in the x-files. she has her whole life and career ahead of her, she’s vibrant and self-assured and she’s just starting out in a new role and she’s 29.
Of course I’d love love love to see more opportunities for older and middle-aged actresses too, but I often feel like female characters in their late twenties-early thirties are quite scarce when so much media is teen-early young adult focused and there’s just a bit of a gap until we get to more mature roles.
I think what I’m really trying to portray is watching scully’s onscreen story start at age twenty-nine really means a lot to me as someone who has had to delay education due to health reasons and likely won’t even enter the workforce until I’m in my late twenties.
It just made me so happy to see a role-model whose job and significant other aren’t fixed by their late-twenties and whose most exciting adventures are still yet to come and who still has so much growth and life yet to unfold.
I am begging the X-Files fandom on here to stop with the AI “art.” I get some of you are new and excited and want to see your fics visualized. I do. But generative AI is not the answer - especially in a fandom with so many amazing artists.
Be at peace with visualizing things in your head.
Using AI as a replacement for creative ventures is an excuse to celebrate no-effort mediocrity.