weighted blanket
Dana Scully/Monica Reyes
Rating: T
Word count: 890
I place my hands on her back to secure her to me, to remind the universe that she’s mine and that nothing can ever take her away from me. This is one of the few things I can’t leave up to fate. I go where she goes and she goes where I go. Tonight, we are just going to sleep.
@today-in-fic
The Booth on 29th Street
Dana Scully/Monica Reyes
AU - Noir/1930s Private Investigators
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 17k (4/5 chapters published)
Inspired by The Office on 33rd Street
Summary: Dana Scully, private investigator, is looking to expand her business by recruiting a new partner.
Enter Monica Reyes, psychic detective.
Excerpts:
The secluded booth was permanently reserved for none other than Scully, a woman with skin as pale as a milk punch and hair as red as a Bloody Mary. Not that she would ever drink either, mind you. She preferred liquor that had teeth, and she had a particular fondness for the kind that carried the name “bourbon.”
The worn, burgundy leather of the bar booth doubled as the padded walls of Scully’s office. She was now entering her second year of working out of the booth, and her fourth year of working as a private investigator.
********
The dame had come to the bar alone. Inevitably, this did not last. Scully rolled her eyes as a taller man approached her, cocking his head as he introduced himself.
It was at this point that Scully usually looked away. This pretty woman was taller than the women Scully usually admired from her booth, but she was a pretty woman all the same, and The Red Clover was forever teeming with eager gnats. It always made Scully bitter, watching them hover and then buzz over to the women.
It wasn’t that Scully wanted to be a gnat. She was perfectly happy being just herself. Still, she resented that she couldn’t do more than watch. She wanted to be able to fly, too.
Scully usually looked away, but this woman was too intriguing to let go of so soon. So, today, she sipped her bourbon and kept watching. And, to her enjoyment, the outcome of the interaction differed from what she was used to seeing.
********
“I know it might sound a bit cosmic, but I possess a sort of… sensitivity to the unseen. The energies of the universe. Vibrations.”
“Vibrations.” Scully crossed her arms over her chest. This all sounded like a load of applesauce.
“Yes.” Reyes did not waver.
“What, like you’re psychic?”
The tall woman’s grin was wide but controlled, warm yet dignified. She was already fitting in quite well at The Red Clover.
“That’s the term that usually gets the idea across for most people, yes. I have been called psychic detective by many of my clients.”
Chapter 3 and Chapter 4 are now published :')
"Even blindfolded, Reyes didn’t fumble or fiddle. Her motions were smooth, directed, efficient. She seemed very practiced. Scully wondered how many times she had done this before, how many times she had proven herself to others. Many, she bet, from how effortless this all seemed. Or, perhaps, there was some truth to her abilities, after all."
Excerpts:
Chapter 3:
“So, what is it that you’re going to do here, exactly?” Scully asked as Reyes’ lips found her chest again. “Fuck me into believing you?”
“Yes.”
Scully shivered and another wave of thrill rushed through her stomach. She had known where they were headed, but the confirmation aroused her even more.
“Why am I blindfolded?”
“Because it would be too easy for me if you could see.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
Chapter 4:
“C’mon,” Monica continued. “Your birthday is coming up soon. We can go somewhere alone.”
“Alone is riskier than with people.” When they were alone, it was too easy to forget.
“Alright. Let’s go somewhere with people, then.”
Monica’s smile stretched into a grin as she went on. “During the day. The sun will be so bright, Dana Scully, you wouldn’t dare move your little toes an inch out of line.” She tucked a strand of Scully’s hair behind her ear. “It’ll be so bright, you’ll have to keep your eyes down towards the street instead of up where you want them.”
Scully snorted now. “‘Up where I want them?’” she said.
Monica nodded, her eyes twinkling. She shifted her body underneath the blanket, moving it closer towards her partner. Scully’s breath hitched as she felt Reyes’ hip brush against her thigh again.
“Yeah,” Monica said. “You poor thing. I know it must be hard, having such an irresistible dame.” She moved even closer now, until her body pressed fully against Scully’s. “It’s a wonder how you can keep your hands off of me at all.”
Scully’s heartbeat quickened and her breaths grew shallow, proving her partner’s point. Her lips parted into a smile.
Instead of teasing by denying, she went the other way. “God, you’re right,” she said, snaking an arm around Monica’s shoulder and pulling her in even more. “I just can’t help it, can I?”
@today-in-fic
Wound Care
Dana Scully/Monica Reyes
Rating: M
Word count: 5.2k
Tags: post-s08e14 (This is Not Happening), angst, hurt/comfort, romance, friendship, comfort sex, ✨homoerotic devotion✨
"Shattered really fucking hurts, but splintered is a whole different kind of agony. Shattering is quick. Splintering… that kind of heartbreak gnaws away at you, sends slivers stabbing through your chest again and again. She still has a lot of hell to walk through.
I want to know what she’s thinking. I want to know if she resents me for being there; for seeing her like that and holding her like that. I want to know what more I can do for her."
Excerpt:
I chase her screams through the dark and find her in one of the doorways, reduced to a small, sobbing crumple on the ground.
“No! This is not happening! This can’t be happening!”
God. I crouch down and grip what I think is her arm. “Agent Scully.”
I pull, trying to coax her to stand with me, but she just rolls on the ground instead, her body locked into a ball of anguish.
She’s howling so violently that I expect her to push my hand away, but she doesn’t. She’s shaking so much that I’m not sure she’s even registered my presence.
I fumble around in the dark, running my hands over her to find her torso as she continues to scream. I wrap my arms around her and pull even harder. She flails, but she doesn’t fight back. I pull her up onto her feet, let go for a second, and then latch onto her again to keep her from falling back down to the ground.
Her cries split my ears and sicken my stomach. “This is not happening! This is not fucking happening!”
Optimism’s fucking useless here. I wish I could say, It’s okay. But it’s not—he’s dead.
I do the only thing I can really do right now—wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. And it’s stupid, but I have to say something, so I say the only thing I can.
“I’m sorry.” And I grip her tighter.
I hold her as she screams, I hold her as she howls, I hold her until her voice goes hoarse and until the raspy shrieks morph into wails. I rub circles on her small back and wish I could do more for her.
The wails grow softer and softer, and then she goes almost limp in my arms. I stumble for a moment, and now I rotate my body to balance it with hers and keep us both upright.
Where the fuck is everyone else? Surely I wasn’t the only one who took off running when she did?
Cold Montana rain falls outside as I lean us against the interior wall of the building. A gust of wind blows some droplets onto us, and I move us further away from the door. I can’t close it because there’s no damn light in here, and I don’t want the dark to swallow her even more than it already has.
She’s silent now, numbed. She barely knows me but she still has her head pressed against my chest, sniffling. My shirt's soaked with her grief. I move my hand up to cup her head.
God. I met this woman just yesterday, in the bright yellow hills not far from here. Now, I’m standing with her in the darkest night of her life, and all I can do is hold her upright, hold her tight.
I wish I could do more.
full fic on ao3
@today-in-fic
The Booth on 29th Street
Dana Scully/Monica Reyes
AU - Noir/Private investigators
Rating: Explicit (for later chapter)
Word count: 3.3k (Chapter 1/4)
Content warnings: None
Inspired by The Office on 33rd Street
Summary: Dana Scully, private investigator, is looking to expand her business by recruiting a new partner.
Enter Monica Reyes, psychic detective.
Excerpts:
The secluded booth was permanently reserved for none other than Scully, a woman with skin as pale as a milk punch and hair as red as a Bloody Mary. Not that she would ever drink either, mind you. She preferred liquor that had teeth, and she had a particular fondness for the kind that carried the name “bourbon.”
The worn, burgundy leather of the bar booth doubled as the padded walls of Scully’s office. She was now entering her second year of working out of the booth, and her fourth year of working as a private investigator.
********
The dame had come to the bar alone. Inevitably, this did not last. Scully rolled her eyes as a taller man approached her, cocking his head as he introduced himself.
It was at this point that Scully usually looked away. This pretty woman was taller than the women Scully usually admired from her booth, but she was a pretty woman all the same, and The Red Clover was forever teeming with eager gnats. It always made Scully bitter, watching them hover and then buzz over to the women.
It wasn’t that Scully wanted to be a gnat. She was perfectly happy being just herself. Still, she resented that she couldn’t do more than watch. She wanted to be able to fly, too.
Scully usually looked away, but this woman was too intriguing to let go of so soon. So, today, she sipped her bourbon and kept watching. And, to her enjoyment, the outcome of the interaction differed from what she was used to seeing.
********
“I know it might sound a bit cosmic, but I possess a sort of… sensitivity to the unseen. The energies of the universe. Vibrations.”
“Vibrations.” Scully crossed her arms over her chest. This all sounded like a load of applesauce.
“Yes.” Reyes did not waver.
“What, like you’re psychic?”
The tall woman’s grin was wide but controlled, warm yet dignified. She was already fitting in quite well at The Red Clover.
“That’s the term that usually gets the idea across for most people, yes. I have been called psychic detective by many of my clients.”
“You know, Scully, if we’re going to be partners, it would make sense for me to know your full name, don’t you think?”
Scully paused her tapping. “Why do you need to know?”
The other woman sat still for a moment before rearranging herself again. “I just would like the full picture, is all.”
She turned to look at Reyes, whose face was softly lit by the golden streetlight drifting in through the windshield. “I don’t give out my first name.”
Reyes cocked her head. “Why not?”
“First names are too familiar. You give a man your first name, and he sees you as a woman.” This was an explanation Scully was accustomed to doling out.
Like Real People Do (Arcadia 2.0 with Scully and Monica)
Like Real People Do
Dana Scully/Monica Reyes
Rating: M (for language and adult themes in future chapters)
Word count: 4.5k (Chapter 1)
Content warnings: None
Summary: Scully and Monica go undercover in the world of wine nights, mommy blogs, PTA meetings, and a peculiar fad that toys the line with obsession.
In the dream of suburbia, they're faced with much more than just their case to unravel.
Chapter 4 and Chapter 5 are now published :')
—4: Featuring essential oils, a night in, a call from William, some cig cravings, and a fright!
—5: Scully and Monica start a blog :')