skullsmuldon - Tumblr blog

skullsmuldon · 22 days

Text

The First Time, Every Time: E.B.E.

Rated X / 2105 words / Tagging @today-in-fic / Posted on AO3

He makes it to the front doors of her apartment building before he turns back, the photograph that she just insisted is a fake clutched tightly in one hand. He’s irritated and angry, in part because she’s always pushing back on him, and in part because she might be right. He does tend to overlook contradictory evidence when he’s hot on a lead like this. He does want to believe Deep Throat badly enough that it’s possible he’s not thinking clearly.

She said she trusted him. More than that, she said he’s the only person she trusts. But her trust isn’t given blindly, and he can’t decide if that’s something he resents or appreciates. He just doesn’t know what to think.

When she answers the door, his anger immediately wanes. Her eyebrows are all pushed together and she’s scanning his face for clues as to why he’s back already, and he’s still not used to someone looking at him like this all the time. Like they care.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

Mulder walks into her foyer and turns to face her. Truthfully, he has no idea why he came back. The conversation just felt unfinished somehow.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe? Even after the bugged pen?” he asks, more frustrated than anything.

Scully closes the door and sighs, then props her hands on her hips and levels him with an icy stare. How she manages to be intimidating at five foot nothing and with that pretty face is an X-File in itself.

“I’m a scientist, Mulder. I don’t believe anything without irrefutable evidence. A bugged pen is not evidence that your picture isn’t a fake,” she says sternly, with a nod to the envelope in his hand.

Mulder huffs and shakes his head, though he can’t disagree with her.

“I just wish you could be a little more open minded,” he says, and Scully presses her lips into a tight line.

“Your skeptical partner,” she says under her breath, and he feels a little flash of embarrassment at the memory of Langly’s comment. He may have vented to them a bit shortly after Scully started working with him, but he could also tell during their brief introduction that the Gunmen liked her. A lot. “You know what, Mulder, I wish that you could be a little more open minded,” she says sassily.

Mulder scoffs.

“To what, exactly?” he asks, tossing the envelope onto her kitchen table and taking one step towards her. She lifts her chin defiantly, and he has the overwhelming urge to kiss her, which catches him off guard.

“To the possibility that you’re being manipulated,” she tells him, her eyes locked on his. “To the possibility that you’re wrong.”

“What if I’m not wrong?” he asks, moving even closer, craning his neck down to bring his nose inches from hers.

Scully blinks rapidly, unmoving aside from the labored rise and fall of her chest. It’s something he’s noticed about her, a tell that she’s emotionally activated even when all other signs indicate calm. He watches for it now, listens for it on the phone. Her breathy, “Mulder, it’s me,” tells him everything he needs to know.

“If you’re so confident it’s real, why won’t you have it analyzed?” she asks, practically panting.

Mulder slips his hand into the space between their bodies, and she startles when his knuckles brush against her chest just beneath her clavicle. He fingers the gold chain around her neck, fishing the tiny cross that hangs from it out from beneath the hem of her shirt, though his eyes never leave her face.

“I have faith in my source,” he says, his voice low, and she draws in a shuddering breath.

“A faith too fragile to be questioned is hardly faith at all,” she retorts.

He has two concurrent realizations, with the backs of his fingers resting against the satiny skin of her breastbone and his face so close to hers that he can smell the wine on her breath: she is the most maddeningly stubborn person he has ever met, and he finds her immovable nature wildly arousing.

He tells himself that he absolutely cannot kiss her at the exact same moment he realizes that he already is, and he pulls away sharply, terrified. Her eyes are wide and her lips slightly parted, and she looks just as likely to slap him as she is to kiss him back.

“Sorry,” he stammers, taking one step away from her. “I don’t know why I did that.”

His head is hung in embarrassment, so he doesn’t see her moving closer. He feels the painful press of her fingernails digging into the back of his neck, and when he looks up her mouth immediately covers his. She’s teetering on her tiptoes, anchoring herself to him with an arm slung across his shoulders, so he stoops down a bit to compensate for their mismatched statures. Her hands move to his face and her kisses grow hungrier, soon accompanied by little whimpers that make his head spin.

“Scully,” he tries to say, but she swallows the sound of her own name and shakes her head with a muffled “Uh-uh.”

What does that mean? Is he supposed to stop her? Should he let it happen?

Her fingers brush over the fly of his slacks and he jumps, grabbing her hand to still it and pulling his head back, just out of reach.

“What are you doing?” he asks breathlessly, very aware that she just made full contact with his very hard dick.

She just stares at him for half a second, her expression unreadable.

“I don’t know,” she says, looking mildly shocked. “Should I stop?” she asks, flashing her eyes to his groin.

Mulder’s jaw tenses. He knows what the right answer is, but he can’t bring himself to say it.

“I don’t know,” he parrots back to her.

A beat passes wherein they look at each other, his hand still wound around her wrist. He knows she won’t keep going unless she’s absolutely sure he wants this. He can feel his heart beating in his cock, and in his periphery he can see the generous tent it’s creating at the front of his slacks. Scully’s tongue slides across her bottom lip and his cock jumps, making up his mind for him.

“No,” he says suddenly, tugging her closer by the arm and sending the front of her body colliding with his.

After that initial hesitation, things move exceptionally quickly. She pushes his suit jacket off his shoulders and then strips off his belt so aggressively that the leather snaps loudly, setting off gooseflesh all over his arms. He manages to get her top off before she slips her hand under his boxers, and he struggles with the clasp on her bra as she drags her fingernails over the papery skin of his scrotum. They’re still standing beside her kitchen table, and all the lights are on. He truly has no idea what will happen next.

Cool air slides over his legs when she pushes both his slacks and his boxers off his hips and they puddle on the floor around his feet. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears is so loud that it drowns out any rational thought. The only one that makes it through is sex . Sex and Scully , two words that he has carefully compartmentalized but are suddenly forcing their way into the very same box as she strokes him firmly with one hand and pops the buttons on his shirt with the other. Meanwhile, he’s got two handfuls of her perky little tits and is working up the nerve to divest her of her pants.

It doesn’t feel even a little bit real. Not when he takes her by the shoulders and guides her back to the table, not when his palms run down the length of her naked thighs as he removes her panties, not when he hoists her up and sets her bare ass down right on top of the manila envelope that brought him here in the first place.

“You’re sure?” he asks, though the fact that she’s got her hand wrapped around his shaft and is guiding him into her wet heat makes the question somewhat rhetorical.

Sex. Scully. Sex. Scully.

She takes him in with a gasp, and his knees wobble when she immediately quivers around him.

“ Shhhhiiiiit ,” he hisses under his breath.

He isn’t prepared for this. It’s been a few days since he jerked off, and under normal circumstances he’d spend as much time as necessary to make sure she got off before he even entertained the idea of coming himself. But it’s Scully, and she’s naked, and her little tits are perfect, and her cunt feels like heaven, and he’s so jacked up on all this E.B.E. shit that he’s operating on a hair trigger as it is.

Baseball. Parking tickets. Budget meetings. Airport security. He imagines something banal with each thrust, trying not to notice the slick sounds of just how wet she is.

It’s not working. Her hips jump up off the table as she slams herself into him, holding steady with one hand on the back of his neck and the other planted on the tabletop. They hold their faces close together, not quite kissing but not giving enough distance that they might meet eyes and realize how stupid this is. Mulder closes his eyes to block out the visual input of her tight pink nipples bouncing on every thrust and holds on for dear life, determined not to make this both a mistake and a disappointment.

“Oh god,” Scully shouts just before she clamps down on him.

Stars burst behind his eyes and he quickly goes from on the edge to careening over it, coming so hard he can barely stay standing. Scully throbs powerfully around him, moaning beautifully in his ear while her cunt strokes every last drop of cum out of him. By the time they’re both finished, she’s on her back and he’s draped over her, listening to her heart slow and wondering what the hell will happen now.

“There’s a roll of paper towels on the counter there,” Scully says, pointing just over his shoulder.

Mulder slowly stands and pulls out of her, and they both politely avert their eyes while he grabs the roll of towels and rips one off before handing it to her. After pulling his pants back up, he quickly retrieves her clothes from the various places they landed and turns his back while she dresses. The manila envelope is now sporting a wet spot in the shape of a wide “V,” which he carefully wipes away. Only then does it occur to him that they didn’t use a condom.

“I’m on birth control,” Scully says, as though reading his thoughts. He turns and looks at her just as she’s tucking her shirt back into her slacks, offering her an awkward smile that she returns.

“That’s reassuring,” he says.

He taps the edge of the damp envelope against his palm, trying to think of something to say that won’t come across as flip or crude.

“I’m sorry,” Scully begins, giving him only quick glances. “That was very unprofessional.”

Mulder laughs, and she looks at him sharply with a mildly bemused expression.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “Pretty sure it was a mutually unprofessional indiscretion. Takes two to tango, as they say.”

Scully smiles bashfully. “Right,” she says with a nod.

“We got a bit carried away. Happens,” he offers, and he sees her relax.

“Shouldn’t happen again, though,” she says, and he detects a hint of a questioning inflection.

“Right,” he agrees. “Well, I better get going,” he says as he moves towards the door. “Need to see a man about having a photograph analyzed.”

Scully’s expression of surprise quickly gives way to amusement.

“So that’s all it took to convince you, then,” she observes, clearly mildly embarrassed by her own joke.

“I am but a man,” he teases back, delighted by her genuine smile. “We’re um…we’re good?” he asks.

She meets his eye and nods. “Yup,” she says, seeming confident that they can move past this, if not still a bit chagrined that it happened in the first place.

“See you in the morning,” he says as she opens the door to let him out. He takes one step beyond the threshold, but then turns back and leans down to bring his lips to her ear. “I think it’s remotely plausible that somebody thinks you’re hot,” he whispers, then presses a kiss to her cheek before he turns and leaves.

83 notes · View notes

skullsmuldon · 22 days

Note

Did you see Gillian talking about a reboot and her being open to pop in for a cameo? I don't know how to feel about that idea...

I did. I have never seen a reboot with new main characters work out. And imo I don’t think it’ll work out for TXF either. I personally watch it for Mulder and Scully and seeing them on cases and for their relationship etc. I’m not interested in new characters. Just create something new and leave TXF alone. Show me a handful of reboots that worked and I might change my mind so far I can’t name 3 that were better than the original and there is a reason for it imo.

So if GA, DD and CC need another payday be my guest but I’ll not watch it. I might watch the episode they pop in but that’s about it.

#gillian anderson #david duchovny #the x files

24 notes · View notes

skullsmuldon · 24 days

Text

👽 April Fools' Day X-Files Fic Recs

No joke, here are some very good X-Files fics involving April Fools' Day. Enjoy! April Fool's Day Series by GirlGone OK, someone challenged me to write a story that wasn't an X-File, a serial killer study, a girlfriend story or a mushy Scully-Mulder romance. I thought about it for awhile and this is what I came up with. April Fools? by A. Dean Written in response to Deb's picture challenge from the US magazine. April Revolution by Foxie Meg "The streets of Paris are burning once more." bad ideas in bed by @wtfmulder Drabble; R; fluff, smut; Scully x Reyes; Prompt: “It’s called a prank.” Bloody Hell by @baronessblixen Happy April Fools’ Day! Mulder is just trying to pull a little prank on Scully... it doesn't go well. Fifth Day in Paradise part 1, part 2 by Kate Rickman En route to the scene of an X-File, Mulder and Scully are stranded in the snowy wilderness after their rental car breaks down on a deserted road. Instead of finding their way back to civilization, they stumble into a treacherous plot that could cost them their lives. Through it all, Scully struggles to accept her deepening relationship with Mulder. Folly by @rivkat Starts in early Season Four; after TFWID, Season Four doesn't happen; instead we take a strange journey into conspiracy, experimentation, and speculation. Leave A Message by Amanda Finch and Tim Scott Our favorite agents' terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day or "When Good Pranks Go Bad". (Check your local FOX listings.) The Man Without A Trace by @syntax6 Insanity Outrunning Moirae by Jennifer Oksana and FirePhile Mulder gets his usual vague information from an informant. It leads him across the country into unbelievable government mischief. Meanwhile, as Scully tracks the case from DC, she starts to question everything, including her own identity. Set around season 5. Wrapped in the Wind Series by RocketMan This is a Romance with Mulder and Scully and a little baby girl. Much like The Emilys, if you liked those.

48 notes · View notes

skullsmuldon · 26 days

Note

Am I the only one annoyed by Gillian using XF when she wants to generate money for her charities? She never mentions scully or XF unless it is to milk the XF fans. Why isn't she auctioning off some robes from Sex ed? or some the crown shit from set. It seems all her old fanbase of XF is good for is when she wants cash for whatever prject or charity she supports.

I don’t disagree anon. In my personal opinion she threw Scully under the bus enough times for me. It’s no surprise she uses XF whenever she wants to sell sth. No matter how much she wants Jean or Stella to be iconic they will never reach the status Scully has. So no matter how much she would have it any other way her team is smart enough to know Scully brings in more money than Jean or Stella.

To me it’s easy if you wanna be milked by her that’s on you. There is tons of charities you can give money too without GA. I personally will not spend any money on whatever GA or DD are trying to sell nowadays. The only thing I’ll go spend money on is if she is doing theater again. Everything else I’ll leave to her new fanbase. 🤷🏽‍♀️

#gillian anderson #the x files

13 notes · View notes

skullsmuldon · 26 days

Text

S2 Rewatch - Fic Recs

Need something angsty and cathartic to read while you will your comatose partner back to life? Here are some season 2 fics that actually address Scully’s abduction arc trauma:

Right Hand Return by humphreywrites - AU in which Scully is returned from her abduction with a baby and serious PTSD

Only the Light by @scullydubois - AU in which Melissa moves in with Scully post abduction arc as she recovers, WIP.

Time Can Heal by @scullysexual - AU in which Scully doesn’t return to the X-Files post abduction arc, WIP.

Will-o’-the-wisp by breakfastsandwich - post-One Breath, the first night home from the hospital.

Transient Luminous Events by @seek-its-opposite - post Irresistible stakeout conversation, so good.

Hunters never hide for long by @catarinquar - Scully works through the compounding traumas of season 2

Feeling Better by @agirlcallednarelle - post One Breath, Mulder drives Scully home from a meeting to determine her return to work.

Empty Spaces by @lokisgame - Scully’s nightmares wake them both during their Firewalker quarantine.

Episode-related fics:

At Sea, At Anchor by Apostrophic - pre Little Green Men, fish tank origin story

One Moment in Arecibo by @scullysexual - Little Green Men missing scene, NSFW

High Stakes by Apostrophic - early season 2 post The Host poker game with the Lone Gunmen, fun times with a little emotional heft snuck in there

Hemaphobia by @spookydarlablack - Blood missing scene, just fun flirty banter and smut in an unlikely episode, NSFW.

False Dawn by emmbright - Mulder’s state of mind between 3 and One Breath, really good.

The Cold Shoulder by agoodwoman - post One Breath first time, NSFW.

Stolen Time by @dreamingofscully - post Firewalker, Scully struggles with unpartnerly thoughts during quarantine with a bored Mulder, NSFW.

Day After Tomorrow by skuls - post Firewalker. She almost died a few weeks ago. But she is here, alive. And her partner has kissed her.

Seeds of Synchronicity by Mountainphile - great casefile follow up to Aubrey set 6 years later when Mulder and Scully are in a pre-established relationship and dealing with Scully’s infertility and grief over Emily.

Untitled by @o6666666 - post Irresistible AU, Scully needs something Ethan can’t give her

Lapse of Reason by @baronessblixen - post Die Hand Die Verletzt make out session, I love it.

Strange Relations by @mldrgrl - rewrite of the Colony scene where Mulder goes home and sees Samantha, Scully goes with him.

If I had to perish twice by @seek-its-opposite - Dod Kalm post ep, but jumps around in time. He thinks maybe they’re working backwards to something like new love.

no night but shadows by @dreamingofscully - post F.Emasculata, a worried mulder shows up at scully's apartment late at night, NSFW.

Darts by @soft-thrills - sweet little early seasons getting to know each other fic

152 notes · View notes

skullsmuldon · 2 months

Text

Detour//5x04

he so wanted to wrestle...

505 notes · View notes

skullsmuldon · 2 months

Text

Respite

PG |MSR URST| WC 1183| AO3

Tagging: @today-in-fic

Summary: Set during S2 Little Green Men, Scully takes Mulder to a motel in Miami to recuperate after they flee Puerto Rico. Once he’s recovered from the dehydration she has some questions regarding his mysterious lunch date.

The air conditioner buzzed in the dark hotel room, blocking out the Miami heat but blowing the blinds just enough to let slithers of light in. He should be sleeping, between the dehydration and the state he was in when Scully found him, a hospital stay with some fluids would have been the smarter choice. Then again, if Mulder had made smarter decisions he wouldn’t be lying in a budget motel with his favorite redhead using his chest as her own personal body pillow and taped evidence of UFOs.

“You’re not sleeping? Are you feeling nauseous again? Drink your fluids.”

Mumbled from his chest Scully blindly reached for his Gatorade concoction on the bedside table and pushed it on him. With a slight chuckle, Mulder obediently drank, he knew not to argue with a sleepy Dr Scully, especially seeing she had just saved his life and risked herself for no other reason than to help him.

“I’m okay Scully, the sunlight just woke me up I think. Go back to sleep.”

Putting the empty bottle on the bedside table, Mulder gently stroked Scully’s hair and let out a yawn. ‘Why did she come?’ His brain was now fixated on that question and he couldn’t stop churning it over in his mind. They were no longer Partners and he had not been a particularly good friend to her since The X Files was shut down.

“Mulder, what’s wrong? You’re tensing up, are you feeling nauseous?”

Sitting up to look at him, Scully inspected his pupils, gently running her hands through his hair more than was medically necessary.

“Why are you here Scully?”

Scully’s eyes crinkled in confusion and a frown formed on her lips.

“I was worried about you. I didn’t know what trouble you got yourself into- I just thought you might need me.”

Grabbing her hand with his Mulder slowly made eye contact with Scully, letting her see the vulnerability in his eyes without the usual mask of deflection he normally wore as a defense mechanism.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend like you- if ever. Scully, I’m sorry I’ve been an ass, I didn’t want to risk something happening to you. It was stupid, thank you for being here.”

Nestling back down on Mulder’s chest, Scully made herself comfortable as she replied.

“You’re welcome Mulder, but no more clandestine outings in D.C ok?”

“Fine.”

“Your heart rate has slowed down and your breathing is a lot less labored now, I think the hydration solution is working.”

With a smile Mulder scoffed.

“No, I think it’s just having you here. For the first time in months I feel this overarching sense that things are going to be okay. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I also have this strange urge to protect you.”

With her eyes still closed, a feint smile was the only hint that gave her amusement away.

“That’s not surprising Mulder, studies have shown that our bodies are wired to respond to physical contact after a traumatic event, the autonomic nervous system floods the body with hormones to help deactivate the flight or fight reflexes. As for the impulse to protect me, I assume that’s just a latent Neanderthal complex.”

Mulder’s body vibrated with a chuckle, holding Scully closer to him as he replied.

“Keep talking like that Scully and I won’t be clubbing you and bringing you back to my cave.”

“Don’t worry Mulder, if someone breaks in here you can flail at them with your club while I grab my gun and shoot them.”

“My protector!”

A silence fell over the room and Mulder marveled at how much he missed this playful banter with Scully. Her sharp wit always kept him on his toes he mused, as he brushed an errant strain of hair off her face.

“Speaking of potential threats Mulder, you got a call from a woman while I was at your apartment. She seemed pretty mad; you stood her up for your lunch date?”

Scully was proud that her voice had managed to make her inquiry sound casual, but she was very interested in the details. Mulder tried to fein obliviousness for a moment but the moment he looked into Scully’s sharp eyes he knew she wasn’t buying it and crumbled.

“Oh, that was Becky from forensic accounting.”

This got Scully’s attention and she bolted upright.

“Wait, you asked Becky out?! You know she stole my lunch Mulder!”

Trying to hide his amusement at Scully’s reaction, Mulder held his hands up in defense.

“It was just yogurt-”

“It had my name on it and she ate it in front of me! What kind of person does that? Seriously, of all the people at the FBI, I can’t believe you asked her out.”

Scully punctuated her rant with a hard shove on Mulder’s shoulder, and moved away from him on the bed. With a glare she violently grabbed the pillow under his head and took it for herself as she turned her back to him. With a hard thud Mulder’s head hit the bed, and he couldn’t help but be amused by Scully’s reaction, he liked that this bothered her. Rolling over to invade Scully’s space, Mulder tried to gently touch Scully’s arm but she pulled away dramatically.

“It’s not like that Scully. I needed a cover for my trip, so I asked her to lunch to throw anyone off the trail because she's not discreet and would tell half the Hoover building we had plans.”

Mulder rolled back, lying flat on the bed and letting his words sink in.

“Wait, you asked her out to lunch knowing you were going to stand her up?”

“Well, you told me she stole your yogurt- ”

“Mulder! She sounded really pissed, what are you going to say when you see her?”

“I’ll say ‘sorry’, and if that doesn’t work maybe you can shoot her?”

“Deal.”

With a chuckle Scully handed Mulder back the pillow and resumed her position of lying on his chest. It took only seconds for her to start feeling the sweet pull of sleep calling her.

“Hey Scully-“

Knowing he wouldn’t stop unless she acknowledged him Scully uttered a reply.

“Yeah…”

“I love you.”

“Thanks Mulder. Maybe, I’d love you more if you shut up so we could get some sleep.”

With a snort Mulder acknowledged her request but she could feel he wasn’t finished yet.

“Can you get me the 2inch player from Quantico Monday? I want you to be there when I play you back what I heard, it was crazy!”

“Yes Mulder, but don’t get your hopes up, there was a lot of electrical discharge in the room. We don’t know if the recording was ok or what we can even do with it.”

“I know, I just want you to hear it.”

“Mulder. Sleep.”

“Fine. At least I know not to eat your yogurt.”

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

And with that they both fell into a heavy sleep, their bodies strung out on adrenaline, needing to fuel up for whatever awaited them at home.

32 notes · View notes

skullsmuldon · 2 months

Text

The First Time, Every Time: Young at Heart

Rated X / 649 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

They’re both hopped up on adrenaline and raw from the aftereffects of an influx of cortisol.

That’s how they��ll explain this away later, when their faces are red with embarrassment rather than exertion. When they agree to forget about things that they couldn’t possibly forget if they tried. It was a mistake, a slip up. They weren’t thinking clearly—he due to grief and guilt, she due to the shock of feeling a bullet strike just above her heart and walking away unscathed. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did.

It shouldn’t be happening, but it is. The developing bruise on Scully’s chest is angry red and steadily deepening plum. A dense knot near her sternum radiates up towards her neck and down onto the lily white flesh of her breast, and Mulder forces himself to look at it as he fucks her. Forces himself to see what he does to people he cares about. Forces himself to consider what would have happened if Burnett had aimed just a few inches higher.

He’s a fuck up, that’s undeniable, but he won’t be like his father. He won’t walk away from his mistakes without so much as a glance back. He won’t refuse to be accountable for the impact his decisions have on others. He looks at Scully’s bruise, and he feels the hot, tight, slip of her cunt, and he hates himself for asking her to take that risk, but he won’t look away.

“Hey,” she says, touching the side of his face to draw his attention.

Her pupils have eclipsed the icy blue of her eyes, making them foreign to him, so he looks at her mouth instead.

“I’m okay,” her pink, kiss-swollen lips tell him, and he wants to believe her.

She pulls him closer and he buries his face in her neck. Her fingers rake through his hair, and she feels so, so good, but he can’t stop thinking about how it all could have been different. Steve Wallenberg, Reggie, Scully. Lives lost or put at risk because of him. And somehow at the end of it he finds himself in bed with a beautiful woman, something he unequivocally does not deserve.

Suddenly she sucks in an enormous breath and he feels her quaking around him, teetering near the edge of inevitability. He’s gotten so many things wrong, but he can get this right. He can make this the best mistake she’s ever made.

He pulls away a little, resting his forehead against hers, then grabs the back of her thigh and hitches her leg up against his side. Her mouth falls open and he feels a surge of confidence and determination. He rocks steadily against her in deep, liquid strokes, teasing her higher and higher as her cunt hangs on for dear life. His eyes fall to her bruise again, but then her hands are on his face, and her open mouth is pressed against his lips, and she’s whimpering and throbbing and coming, and his mind goes blank. He can’t think about Wallenberg and Reggie, can’t think about Scully’s bruise and how close he came to losing her. All he can think about is the tight squeeze of her cunt and the press of her breasts against his skin, and even though he’d planned to deny himself he’s coming too, right inside her, and it’s the quietest his brain has been in years.

She doesn’t push him away when the height of it has passed over them, when his brain comes back online and the realization starts to sink in. She lets him lay there with his spent cock nestled in her heat and drags her fingernails up and down over his back for what feels like a very long time.

“I’m okay, Mulder,” she says again, apropos of nothing, and he feels tears sting his eyes.

He wishes that it brought him any comfort.

77 notes · View notes

skullsmuldon · 2 months

Text

Fic Friday (9)

I decided I wanted to share this fic and then spent almost 30 minutes trying to find it. So y'all better appreciate this one 😂 Also this an old fic so no ao3 link or word count.

Title: Breathing in Time

Author: Zephathah

Description: Late one night, Mulder feels the need to check on Scully's breathing.

My thoughts: This fic is short but such a sweet one-bed story. What makes it even better is that there are two sequels: Waking in Fere, and then Resting Beside Me by a different author (Shoshana). But the writing is so similar it doesn't even seem like another person wrote it. And you'll be happy there's three fics in this little universe because that means more of Scully and Mulder snuggling :)

Enjoy! Tagging @today-in-fic

31 notes · View notes

skullsmuldon · 3 months

Text

Throwing Good After Bad (Chapter 14)

Scully

When Scully first heard Jules utter the words sacrificial bath, she assumed it meant the Black Sands would try to drown her in the sea in the same way the children died. But as she watches four men lug an aluminum tub out into the center of the lodge, she realizes nervously that they meant an actual bath.

It takes a long time for the men to fill the tub with buckets of what she hopes is warm water, and as she waits in silence, she doesn’t even bother looking over at Mulder. She knows what she’ll see on his face—crushing guilt mixed with astonishing self-hatred and a whopping dose of pity for her.

But she doesn’t need pity from him. She needs action.

She can’t lie; she was a little shocked to wake up in the lodge next to him and Lydia, having made the assumption that her partner—who has a colorful history of madcap, Houdini-esque getaways— would have managed to escape his hosts’ house. But Mulder has seemed more than a little distracted during this investigation, she muses. He’s been a little less quick to make decisions and a little less enthusiastic about pursuing leads. She glances at Lydia, who has been staring morosely down at her feet for half an hour, and wonders, not for the first time, if she’s the one distracting her partner.

As the tub begins to fill up, Scully idly starts to consider how they’re going to make it out of this mess alive. Although it’s not rare for one of them to be kidnapped, tortured, or taken hostage, it’s very rare for both of them to be ensnared at the same time. It certainly presents a disadvantage.

And then there’s Joe’s confession, which, quite frankly, caught her off guard. She shudders at the fact that it was him—not Evan—watching her make out with Mulder under the moonlight.

And where the hell is Evan anyways?

When the tub is three-quarters full, Jules motions to Harlan, who produces a knife and quickly sets to work undoing the bonds around her wrists and ankles before moving on to Mulder. Although she is free to move about the space, she doesn’t forget that there’s a shotgun pointed at her head.

“You said your name was Mulder? And Dana?” Jules confirms. They both nod. “Okay. I’ll give you a rundown of what happens next. It is our tradition prior to a sacrifice for the individual being offered up to be bathed and cleansed by the person with whom they are most intimate. You two being husband and wife, it is therefore appropriate for you to bathe each other.”

Although Scully assumed something like this was coming, she can’t help the way her stomach bottoms out at Jules’ words. The idea of touching Mulder so intimately—and letting him touch her the same way—is almost as terrifying as the thought of being murdered by this death cult.

“The water should be at the perfect temperature,” Jules announces, dipping a finger in to test it. “You may stand and disrobe.”

Unbidden, Scully feels tears of outrage sting at her eyelashes. She doesn’t want a hundred strangers to see her naked; she doesn’t want Joe and Lydia to see her naked. And more than that, she doesn’t want Mulder to see her naked.

Not like this.

Not with the threat of death looming.

Not because of another forced encounter.

She balks. “Can we at least keep our underwear on? In front of all these people?” She gestures to the gawking crowd.

Jules smiles thinly. “It’s tradition, Dana. A tradition that is important for the community to witness.” She winks provocatively and her voice drops to a stage whisper. “Actually, it’s not uncommon for our married couples to engage in intercourse during this session. It will be the last time you ever get to touch your spouse again.”

She sees red. “Sex? You want us to have sex? In front of all these people? In this shitty excuse for a bathtub?” She takes a step forward and stabs her finger at Jules’ heart, ignoring the way Harlan raises the gun slightly to follow her movements. “You’re planning to kill us in order to appease some nonsense, false gods, when in reality your grandchildren likely died because they didn’t understand how to get out of a riptide, but before you do any of that, you want to get off watching us touch each other? You sick, disgusting bastards! If I ever get free of this hell you’ve put us in, I will rip out your eyeballs with my bare hands and force them down your throats, you sick sons of a bitches!”

Jules’ hand comes out and smacks her across the cheek hard, and Scully lunges, flinging out her hands to claw at the woman’s face. Mulder lurches forward and grabs her wrist, yanking her back to his side before jumping to stand between her and the shotgun. He raises a hand in surrender, sending Jules and Harlan a pleading look.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he interrupts carefully, placing a hand over the barrel of the gun. “Everyone’s just a little on edge right now.” He drops his hand to grab Scully’s wrist and stills her with a thumb pressed to her pulse point.

But she can’t catch her breath. Her chest is heaving rapidly and even as Mulder strokes her arm soothingly, she feels like she’s about to come out of her skin. He shoots her a commanding look and she knows she needs to calm down. She needs to regulate her emotions. They don’t have the upper hand here; the Black Sands do. Her partner stares at her for a long moment, his eyes begging her to relax, to stay in lock-step until there’s not a gun aimed at her head. When she feels like she can breathe again, she nods slightly.

He turns his attention back to Jules and Harlan. “Come on, guys,” he barters calmly, his voice oozing charm and goodwill. “You said it yourself. We’re not part of the community; we’re outsiders. Let us do this one last thing on our own terms. Don’t make our last minutes with each other a living hell. Give us some privacy at least.”

Jules pinches her lips together irritably and Harlan draws close to her, dipping his head towards her ear. Scully glances at Mulder apprehensively and he squeezes her hand tightly.

After a long minute, Jules sighs in defeat. “Fine. You get your privacy.”

Scully releases a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Jules continues. “You two will be given privacy in this room under direct orders to perform the sacrificial bath. Harlan and I will stand at the doors to ensure the ceremony is performed. Everyone else will return to the meeting room.”

“Well, it’s not perfect, but it beats the alternative,” Mulder quips, and Scully has half a mind to punch him in the gut. Why can’t he take this seriously?

He shoots her a sheepish look and she looks away, suddenly very annoyed.

But an anger has been building inside her since the moment they landed this assignment. Anger at Kersh for assigning them to different partners, if only because it distressed Mulder and made him even more difficult, moody, and brooding than usual. Anger at the Black Sands Community for being one creepy, cultish nightmare. Anger at Joe and his seeming incompetence, which she now realizes was likely just a result of the fact that he and Lydia were assigned to be veritable babysitters, nothing more. Anger at Lydia for being similarly incompetent, but also anger at her for wanting Mulder.

And of course, anger at Mulder. Anger at him for being too possessive. Anger at him for not being possessive enough. Anger at him for caring more about their partner assignment than about the Black Sands mystery. Anger at him for getting distracted. Anger at him for distracting her.

Anger at him for getting hard that night on the beach.

Anger at him for kissing her so completely, so well.

Anger at him for making her want more.

Anger at him because it wasn’t real.

She stares at the bathtub, her cheeks warming with the realization that she will soon be forced to share another moment of false intimacy with the man she loves. She wonders if it will haunt her just as much as their night on the beach has.

She closes her eyes and reminds herself to breathe.

With the room emptied out—except for Harlan and Jules, who stand guard by the doors, shotgun locked and loaded—Scully stares down at the bathtub in trepidation. Before leaving them, Jules made it explicitly clear that they were to both disrobe to full nudity and immerse themselves in the tub together. The tub really is too small to fit two people comfortably, and Scully can already imagine all the body parts that are about to be smushed together in there.

She glances at Mulder expectantly and he catches her eye, then turns his back to her. She follows suit, listening to the rustle of clothing leaving his body. She hears his jacket, shoes, and socks come off first, and as if on autopilot, she copies his movements, first removing outerwear, then socks, then shoes. Next come his jeans and possibly his boxers, which she can tell by the rough scrape of heavy fabric against skin. She slips off her own jeans, folding them neatly beside her shoes. Goosebumps ripple up her skin as he removes his shirt and she her own.

She knows he is done by the noticeable way he goes silent, but she still has two items to remove. Her hands shake as she unclasps her bra, letting the straps fall down her arms on their own. She fingers the waistband of her panties nervously. This feels like the final frontier. If she were required to remove everything but her panties, she might survive this. Showing Mulder her naked breasts isn’t exactly desirable under these conditions, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Breasts are private, yes, but they’re not quite taboo. Women in Europe routinely show their breasts with little hesitation. It’s getting fashionable for girls to forgo wearing bras these days.

Letting him see everything below the waist, though . . . that feels dangerous. Forbidden. Unthinkable.

“Everything off,” Jules barks at Scully’s hesitation, and she nearly jumps out of her skin.

Just like ripping off a Band-Aid, she tells herself, and yanks her panties down.

“You get in first,” Mulder murmurs behind her, and she is grateful he is still turned away from her.

Slowly, she turns towards the tub and sinks down into the clear water, sighing with slight relief at its warmth. The men did a good job heating the tub. When she is settled as comfortably as she can be—knees pulled into her chest, arms linked protectively around her calves—she calls out to him.

“Your turn.”

She keeps her eyes averted as he joins her in the tub, water sloshing over the edges as he sinks down ungracefully.

“I know this is uncomfortable, Scully,” he starts, and she keeps her eyes focused on the water. “But just think of it this way. Before you know it, this will be over and our heads will be on spikes decorating the entrance to the lodge.”

She raises her head to shoot him a dark look. How is he joking at a time like this? But despite his poor attempt at humor, his eyebrows are creased in concern.

“You okay, Scully?” he asks quietly. He, too, has his legs pulled up to his chest. It’s the only way to prevent body parts from touching. He drags a long finger along the top of the water, skimming the surface.

She shrugs. That irrational anger she feels towards him starts to bubble up again. How is he so calm about this? Probably because he experiences none of the same unrequited love and desire that she does.

“You look angry,” he notices, his mind profiler-sharp. Silently, she curses him for being so damn perceptive. Misreading the source of her anger, he continues. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t get us out of this sooner—”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is. I should have seen this coming. We should never have let them separate us.”

She sighs exasperatedly, pulling her arms in tighter. There he goes again, obsessing over their separation. “Mulder—”

“It distracted us,” he continues. “We weren’t thinking clearly at any stage of this investigation. We should have radioed to Kersh ages back and told him something was up.”

She hesitates. “I can’t argue with that.” She gives him a meaningful look. “Maybe we could have gotten less involved in the community. Maybe we could have followed orders better. Maybe we could have done a better job working with Lydia and Joe.”

He scoffs. “Those fools? They were sent here to spy on us.”

She shrugs. “Maybe we shouldn’t have discounted them as much as we did. Joe was clearly keeping on tabs on us when we had no idea. I don’t know how we missed that.”

He rolls his eyes. “Spies, Scully, nothing else.”

She smiles slightly. “I was sent to spy on you at one point,” she reminds him.

His eyebrows waggle mischievously and she steels herself for a smartass comment. “Yes, but unlike you, Joe didn’t fall head-over-heels in love on day one and decide to renounce his mission.”

She rolls her eyes exaggeratedly, shaking her head fondly. If only he knew, she thinks, turning her eyes back to the water.

His finger trips across the water to brush her knuckles. It’s a featherlight touch, one intended to respect her current level of discomfort.

“You’re angry,” he reminds her quietly, his voice more subdued.

She meets his eyes, which look bright green against the hue of the water. “Not at you,” she clarifies gently, even though it’s not entirely true. He doesn’t look too convinced.

She extends a toe, nudging his foot slightly. The water bobs around them. “I can’t help but feel like we’ve had blinders on this entire time. The four of us are trained federal agents. How did we end up in this position?”

He huffs a laugh and it sends a gentle wave through the water.

“It’s not funny,” she scowls. “Even if we survive this, we’ve clearly lost our jobs. Or if we don’t get kicked out of the FBI, there’s no way they’re letting us remain partnered together. Not after what they think we’ve done.”

She watches him swallow and realizes he hasn’t reached the same conclusion yet.

A vulnerable look passes over his face. “You think they’ll split us up?”

“They think we’re sleeping together, Mulder. Of course they will.”

He falls quiet for a long time, so long, in fact, that she starts to miss the sound of his voice. Their fate is starting to close in around them, and she doesn’t know how much longer she has of hearing him chatter.

“What are you thinking?” she prods.

His lips tick up in a wry smile. “Something I probably shouldn’t share.”

That piques her curiosity. “If there was ever a time for honesty, now may be it,” she teases.

He shrugs. “I can’t help but think that we’re being punished for something we didn’t even do. For something we didn’t even . . . experience.”

She cocks her head.

He shoots her a chagrined look. “They’re going to punish us for having sex. And we never even got to do it. We never even had the—the—”

“The pleasure?” she asks cynically, eyebrows raised.

He meets her gaze and laughs mirthlessly. She loosens her grip on her calves just slightly, releasing the pressure on her chest.

“Exactly,” he says. “We didn’t even experience the pleasure we’re being punished for.”

She swallows thickly and nods, glancing down at her hands. The water is starting to cool and she knows they don’t have much time.

“So,” he says quietly, breaking her silence, “what do you think happens to us next?

She bites her lip. This is the part she’s been actively avoiding in her mind. The fact of their impending death.

“You mean how do you think they’ll do it?”

He nods.

“I don’t know,” she breathes. “I hope it’s quick. Painless.”

He flashes her a concerned look and taps her hand with his pinky finger. “Don’t say that,” he chides. “We’ll escape before they can hurt us.”

She shakes her head, a slow smile building. “You and your optimism,” she murmurs.

He holds her gaze for a long moment and she gets the sense that he wants to reach out and touch her, but that he’s holding back out of respect for her privacy. She’s known him long enough to know that physical touch is how he expresses himself. If what he needs is physical comfort right now, surely she can muster up the courage to give it to him.

She scoots marginally closer, just enough so that their knees bump together, calves touching. His eyes follow the movement of her body and she rests her forehead on her knees, then reaches her hands forward to clasp his own. He rubs his thumb over her knuckles for a few moments before gently untangling their fingers. She feels the slosh of water as his arms lift and then feels the heavy, warm weight of his hands dropping across the back of her neck. His arms fall across her shoulders, holding her to him. She feels the press of his lips to the top of her head.

“Think you could take Harlan down?” she whispers.

“Not with that shotgun pointed at your head,” he murmurs. She feels his hand stroking the hair away from her neck, then feels his palm sliding across the bare skin of her back. He follows the column of her spine until he reaches the water’s edge, then trails his fingers back up to her neck.

The movement is so soothing and so gentle, she can almost imagine that this is real. That this isn’t just the touch of a concerned friend in a difficult moment, but that of a lover.

She turns her face so her cheek is resting against her knee. He drops his forehead so it’s pressed against her temple and she feels his breath skim across her face.

“You know what’s good about this situation?” he murmurs, continuing that slow up-and-down movement across her spine.

“Mm?” she manages to ask.

“We’re not separated anymore. We’re partners again, in their eyes and in our own.”

She smiles slightly at that.

“And we always get out of tough spots when we’re together,” he tells her.

“Together,” she repeats softly, lulled by the feeling of his palm against her skin.

His lips return to her temple, and she closes her eyes momentarily as the desire to rise up and kiss him starts to build. He is being tender and loving with her, just like he was in the jungle. That wasn’t real, she immediately chides herself. But some small part of her reminds herself he was aroused. He got hard for me.

She lifts her head slowly and he rises with her. Their eyes lock and she sees something intense reflected back at her, something desirous and wanting. Does he feel it too? Does he want this too? His eyes flicker to her lips and suddenly, she’s possessed with an incredible will to live.

I will not kiss him again under forced circumstances, she tells herself. The next time I kiss him, it will be because we are free to make our own choices.

“Mulder?” she murmurs.

“Yeah, Scully?”

She takes a deep breath. “This isn’t the last time, okay?”

He cocks his head and the hand on her back stills.

She licks her lips. “This isn’t the last time . . . we’re together. Like this.” Her eyes flit meaningfully between their naked bodies, hoping to God her intent is clear. Hoping to God she’s reading him correctly. Hoping to God he wants this, too.

That growing intensity behind his eyes seems to rise and crest and the pure want she sees reflected back at her hits her like a ton of bricks. His hand at her back rises quickly to grip her neck, possessive and gentle at the same time. His other hand skims down her arm, fingers tripping across her skin. Goosebumps rise along her spine and she shivers.

“Well,” he finally says, his eyes alight with something dark and heady, “now I have a very good reason to live.”

29 notes · View notes