#the cruelty of making me choose between scullys

[gaycrouton]

Please I’m seriously begging you in the name of the smut loving fandom PLEASE continue the drunk sex toy story!! I swear we will all change scullys soaked sheets no biggie 😎 just continue 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼💜💜💜💜💜

Here I come a month late, lol. Sorry for the delay, I wrote something and then I hated it and almost gave up, but my lovely beta and support @admiralty-xfd recentered to me and thus this was birthed. I hope you like it!

Here’s a link to Part One

Here’s the AO3 Link

“Scully, you look like an icicle,” Mulder laughed as they rushed into her motel room. The seven blocks really didn’t take much time, but the wind burned her cheeks and the coat that served her so well in Maryland really wasn’t suited for the cruelty of an Ohio winter.

“I-I’m f-f-freezing,” she stuttered, making a beeline for the heater to set it on full blast while he slipped his coat off.

She turned around just in time to see him taking off his tie, a sight her eyes usually weren’t privy to, but one she always replicated in her mind after seeing. She saw him smirk at her and she realized her appreciation probably wasn’t as discreet as she thought. The cold had sobered her up a little, but not as much as it probably should have and she still felt clumsy from the alcohol, resulting in her stripping off her coat in a less-than-graceful manner.

“You should get on the bed,” he told her as she tossed her coat on a nearby chair and used it as leverage to slip off her shoes.

“What?” she squeaked, losing her balance and letting her foot hit the floor hard as she stabilized herself.

He laughed at her and clarified, “You’d get warmer if you got under the covers.”

“True,” she nodded. “I think I’m going to slip into my pyjamas first. I’ll only be a minute though, so if you wanna stay here and put on a movie or something, go ahead.”

“I’ll be back, I’m going to do the same,” he responded, slipping through the adjoining room into his own.

Now alone in her room, instead of going to the bathroom, she pulled her bag onto the mattress and shifted around for her pyjamas. She disrobed haphazardly before slipping her shorts up her legs and onto her hips. She shoved her fist in her bag, trying to reach around for her shirt, but only finding miscellaneous work attire.

“What do you want to-shit. I’m sorry,” Mulder apologized. She turned her head over her shoulder and saw Mulder had thrown a hand over his eyes and was comically stumbling back into his room.

His underestimation of how long it took her to get dressed resulted in him getting an eyeful of her bare back and she felt herself smiling at his juvenile reaction to her nakedness. She reached around some more and found her t-shirt, sliding it over her head before calling out, “I’m decent!”

A moment later, a red-faced Mulder came back into the room, adorned in a heather gray shirt and a pair of black boxers, with a sly smile on his face. “I don’t know, I thought you were more than decent earlier,” he joked, throwing himself onto the opposite side of the bed and grabbing the remote control.

“Oh I’m sure you did,” she laughed, untucking her hair from the neckline of her shirt.

“Is Star Trek okay with you?” he asked, pointing to the screen.

“Sure,” she replied. As she settled next to him on the bed, the white of the bedsheet in between them felt taunting. She wasn’t sure if he could tell, but she felt like she was in the midst of a whirlwind of emotion. She was still buzzed enough to want to continue their prior conversation, but she was sobering up enough to recognize that was probably a bad idea.

The propinquity made her want to scoot close enough to touch, and she knew he had to be feeling the lingering tension in the air.

If it were me…

She held back that urge to scoot closer though because she could only be so ballsy and she’d already decided she wasn’t going to let the conversation at the sex shop become an unspoken memory quite yet. She might need this space as a safety net.

She just had to know.

“I think McCoy’s underrated,” he commented, not paying attention to her internal battle.

“You didn’t finish your sentence,” she blurted, her eloquence still sitting at the bar stool where she decided a fourth shot was necessary.

“Yeah I did, I said I think McCoy’s underrated,” he repeated quizzically.

“No, no,” she smirked, waving her hand in front of her face to dismiss his confusion. “Um, before. When we got kicked out.”

“Ohhh,” he drew out, nodding before a grin tugged at his lips. “Remind me, what did I say?” His tone made it evident he didn’t need reminding as much as he wanted to hear her say it.

She rolled her eyes and felt her palms start to sweat, why couldn’t she be as bold as she’d been thirty minutes ago? She’d always been curious if he’d ever thought about them being intimate and she’d been so close to finding out the answer. She was technically still close now, he was in good spirits and she knew he’d answer, but she couldn’t find her nerve. “Never mind, I’m being ridiculous,” she laughed, diverting her attention to William Shatner.

“You’re never ridiculous, Scully,” he reassured. “Are you talking about when you were mentioning how men didn’t usually um…take care of you?”

She laughed at his word choice, making it sound more like a hitman situation than prior lovers’ lack of effort to make her come. “Yes,” she admitted, playing with the nail on her left middle finger. “You said it was a shame, and then you started saying-”

“If it were me,” they repeated in unison.

Mulder looked shy, like he too was thinking he’d spoken too much at the shop and now had to deal with it, and she just smiled and nodded shyly, “Um, yeah, but you didn’t ever finish your sentence.”

“I think I was being a little too direct in the heat of the moment,” he sighed, scratching his face. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he admitted with chagrin.

“Mulder,” she drew out with a sardonic chuckle, getting his attention. “I, in graphic detail, talked to you about how I masturbate. If either of us need to be apologizing it should be me,” she admitted, putting her hands over her face for a moment after to cover her slowly budding embarrassment.

“Don’t…you don’t need to apologize,” he replied before awkwardly adding “It was, um, enlightening.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure when I sober up in the morning I’ll feel the same,” she chuckled, smiling when he joined her.

“I uh, I was just going to say that isn’t fair to you and I wouldn’t let that happen,” he rushed in one long exhale, reaching over to the nightstand and stealing a drink from the water she’d left there the night before.

“Whaddya mean?” she asked, letting her head fall over to her shoulder so she could look at him. He sent her a heavy look and the implications hit her immediately. I’d make you come. “Oh,” she murmured.

“I didn’t mean to be crass or anything. That’s just shitty it’s not a guarantee for you every time you,” he elaborated, making gestures with his hands that she was assuming implied ‘have sex’.

She shrugged and watched the television screen with feigned interest. “It’s okay, I take care of myself.” A grin spread across her lips and she chuckled, “As you clearly now know.”

He made a clucking sound with his tongue that had her looking back at him. “You shouldn’t have to, though.”

The look of dissatisfaction he was giving her felt too intense to look directly at. “Well…” she started. “I mean-don’t you too?”

“Don’t I what?” he asked.

“Takecareofyourself,” she rushed in a quiet mumble. She cleared her throat and added, “I just assumed, with all the tapes and the subscriptions.”

“How did you know about the subscriptions?” he asked in surprise.

“When I went over to your house to feed your fish a few months ago, you got a phone call. I didn’t answer it, but I heard a woman named Red come over the answering machine. At first I thought maybe you were seeing someone, but then she started talking about renewing your membership,” she explained.

While she was talking, his hands went to his face as he let out a low groan. “Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing.”

“She sounded cute,” she teased, earning another groan from him. “Oh come on, Mulder. Don’t be embarrassed,” she laughed, grabbing his forearm and trying to pull his hands away.

“I can’t believe you heard that,” he whined as his hands slid down his face.

“Mulder, it’s not like I found a used condom or something. Some people like visual stimulation, some people like audible stimulation, some like mixtures of all sorts of stimulation. It’s perfectly normal,” she reassured.

He let his eyes flick over to her and he looked like he was trying to choose his words wisely. “What do you prefer?”

She let go of him, realizing she’d inadvertently learned into that dangerous space between them, and re-adjusted herself on the bed. “When I…?”

His eyes hadn’t left her and he looked so tempting sprawled on the bed like that. He looked like the statue of the River Tiber come to life, flesh and blood mimicking perfect marble. “Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes giving her a similar appraisal.

I prefer to think about your voice and whatever you looked like earlier in the day. I like replaying conversations we had in my head, but imagining how they could have turned out differently. How they could have ended with me bent over your desk screaming your name. "Well, it’s a proven fact that women are more likely to rely on their own im-imagined fantasies than, um- external factors. That’s not to say visual and audible stimulation aren’t nice, but they’re not as important,“ she explained.

"Is that what you utilize? Fantasies?” he murmured softly.

“More or less,” she answered vaguely.

She could hear him thinking. It was just a side effect of being his partner for this many years. She could hear all her hypothetical fantasies dancing around in his head as he tried to select the one that fit her best. If she had any doubts that was what was happening, her suspicions were confirmed when he had to readjust himself on the bed to hide the tent in his boxers. Attempt to hide.

“Can I ask you something?” he prompted, his eyes roaming her face for any sign of hesitance.

She paused, licking her lips and finding no remnants of her drink left, the only residue being the boldness of their words and their lethargy. “Shoot,” she replied with a confidence her nerves couldn’t match.

“How long has it been?” he asked straightforwardly.

The question took her by surprise and she wasn’t sure what he meant. “Since I fantasized?” she clarified.

“No, since, uh-" You’ve been fucked.

"Oh," she interrupted. He’d probably put it more eloquently than she’d mentally finished the sentiment, but the way he licked his lips was too influential for any other wording.

"You don’t have to answer that, if you don’t wanna,” he reassured, making sure she knew she had an escape from this conversation.

But if there was one thing they were good at, it was plunging headfirst into dangerous situations. “Just once in the past, seven or so years,” she murmured, looking nervously at her hands.

She knew he knew what that one time entailed, and she was glad when, instead of pressing her about what was a tense time in their partnership, he decided to avoid mentioning the name Ed Jerse directly. The only question he had directly related to the fling being, “Was it good?”

“It was…nice,” she mused, bending her legs so she could idly play with her knee caps while giving her something other than his intense gaze to focus on.

“Ouch,” he fake winced. It drew her attention and she saw he was wearing an amused smile. At her look he added, “I don’t think any guy would be thrilled to know a night with him was described as 'nice’,” he explained.

She smiled and rolled her eyes, “No, I mean- the sex was invigorating, but um-.”

She paused as she searched for her words, feeling the usual openness of her feelings that tended to accompany a night of drinking. She could already imagine future Scully burying her head in her hands at the thought of what she was going to admit.

“But…?” he prompted.

“But it was nice to feel wanted, you know,” she admitted.

“You’re wanted, Scully,” he murmured in a soft voice. She looked over to him again and saw his smug facade had been shed in favor of an earnestness that made him look years younger.

She lowered her legs and let her feet rock back and forth, the toes occasionally coming together to meet in the middle before inevitably dropping away. “I mean really wanted. Wanted as a woman,” she explained.

She could feel him building himself up to say something and she suddenly got nervous and didn’t know if she wanted to hear what he was about to say. Instead of letting him respond, she asked, “What about you?”

He looked taken aback at the diversion, but not altogether surprised by it. “What about me?”

“When was the last time you had sex?” she asked.

“Once in the last seven or so years,” he responded. She felt her feet’s movements freeze and she knew he caught that. Who?

She realized in this moment that she’d never really considered it. He’d always just been…Mulder. Her Mulder, with his porn videos and the nickname he bore like a scarlet letter. He was attractive, no doubt, but she just thought…

She didn’t know what she thought.

And because of that she didn’t know what to say.

“Oh,” was all that escaped her lips. It was all she could muster. She couldn’t ask who it was. If she asked who it was while he didn’t ask her, she’d seem defensive. She’d seem like a jealous girlfriend.

The only thing she really was, was his jealous partner. And jealous partners knew when to bite their tongue.

A tension permeated the air and she wished she knew what to say to clear it out. Sensing her unease, he offered, “It was when you were gone, um. When I couldn’t find you.”

“Oh,” repeated, a more curious inflection than its downtrodden predecessor. She’d been told by many people that it was a bad time for him, but she still didn’t know to what extent.

She couldn’t help but notice the similarities there. He indulged while they were physically distant, and her while they were emotionally. What did that say about them?

Repeating his earlier question, she asked, “Was it good?”

“I guess,” he shrugged.

She let out a breathy chuckle and, at his glance, declared, “Okay, 'it was nice’ is a hell of a lot better than 'I guess’.”

He laughed and nodded in acknowledgement, “You’re right, you’re right.”

“Why the lackluster review?” It wasn’t any of her business, but she was curious.

He made a hesitant sound and shrugged, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I don’t even know if I was doing it because I was h-because I really wanted to,” he explained, leaning his head against his hand as he looked at her. “I think I was just sad and wanted to feel some sort of connection.”

The thought made her sad. The Mulder was so lost while she was gone that he went out and had sex with a stranger just to feel something. In all honesty, she didn’t know anything about his sexual history, but she knew him as a person. And Mulder was not the type to give himself away easily. She knew that first hand.

With a sympathetic sigh, she let her head lay lethargically on the pillow as she murmured, “We’ve all been there.”

“You know you’re wanted, right?” he asked again. She was staring at the ceiling as he posed the question and she felt her eyes widen at his statement.

She rolled her head over to the shoulder facing him and saw he was looking at her with startling reverence. The combination of his boldness and his gaze had her at a loss for words. “I-um…”

“I don’t mean to overstep my bounds, but I wasn’t lying when I said it wouldn’t be hard for you,” he murmured.

“What?” she asked in a soft voice.

He licked his lips again, somehow avoiding looking lascivious while doing so, as he looked her dead in the eye. “Any man would be lucky to be with you.”

She maintained eye contact with him, looking for any sign of dishonesty yet finding none. The intensity of conviction in his statement made her breath catch in her throat. “I-I don’t know,” she laughed breathily, shaking her head.

“You’re brilliant and beautiful, Scully,” he admitted. Upon seeing her blush, he added, “I don’t say that to embarrass you. I just don’t like seeing you doubt yourself.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” she responded shyly, her gaze flitting to the screen that’d somewhere down the line started playing infomercials.

“Just being honest,” he replied.

Maybe it was his current boldness rubbing off on her, but she still had one curiosity that she couldn’t ignore. “Can I ask you something inappropriate?” she asked, realizing the redundancy before even asking.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” he joked goodnaturedly. “But yes, please do,” he added.

Licking her lips with subconscious trepidation, she asked, “Earlier, um, in the shop and when we were talking about fantasizing just now, you were hard, weren’t you?” Thinking about it and thinking about asking him were one thing, but speaking the words aloud to him was a completely different ballgame. She felt her face blaze and she knew she looked as uncomfortable asking as she felt. But she just wanted to know.

He laughed lightly, not being subtle as he grabbed his still moderately present erection and tried to adjust himself. “I was trying to be discreet.”

“I think it’s impossible to be discreet at that size,” she pointed out, gesturing to his bulge.

He smiled at her words, clearly surprised she said it at all, and chuckled a sincere “thank you.”

“But seriously, is it just because we’re talking about sex? Or…” she prodded, unable to finish the rest of the question. The part that would require her to explicitly ask him if she turned him on. She knew full well that this line of questioning would undoubtedly embarrass her in the morning, but the gentle pulsing between her thighs that had been present all night didn’t care.

“Partly,” he answered vaguely.

“Partly?” she repeated.

He chuckled nervously and adjusted his weight on his elbow. “I-I don’t want to make yo-”

“You won’t make me uncomfortable,” she interrupted, eager to hear the answer he was obviously nervous to give. “I’m asking.”

He paused for a moment, making sure his honesty is really what she wanted. He licked his lips again and took a deep breath before admitting, “Partly because we were talking about sex, but partly because it was about you.”

About me. "Really?“ she asked softly.

He nodded before adding. "It’s been a long standing curiosity of mine.” He kept looking at her for a moment, watching for some sort of reaction before letting out a breathy chuckle and ducking his head shyly.

“What are you curious about?” she asked, almost gasping in surprise that she actually asked.

His gaze shot back to her. “Seriously?”

She nodded, as if transfixed by the possibility of arousing Mulder. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been pretty candid all night. What’s the harm?”

Saying something that would be impossible to take back was the harm, but she was purposefully ignoring that fact.

“I want to know what turns you on,” he stated almost immediately, his eyes idly wandering to her chest as her breathing deepened. She felt her nipples harden under his gaze and, by the bob of his adam’s apple, so did he.

“I…I like dominance,” she admitted outloud for what, she was pretty certain, was the first time.

“Dominance? Like dominating-”

“No, no,” she shook her head. “Being dominated. Not in the intense BDSM way or anything but, you know, the casual way.”

“Casual way? Is there such a thing as casual dominance?” he teased with a lilt and a smirk.

She rolled her eyes at his teasing before explaining, “I think at the root of it, it’s the stereotypical 'woman has to prove herself constantly at work so when it comes to intimacy she finds pleasure in relinquishing that power’ idea. I don’t like any sort of shame component, I just like, um…” she trailed off, having a hard time finding the right words.

“Someone else taking control?” he offered.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Hair pulling?” he asked, randomly listing something off.

The question brought the image of Mulder, raking his fingers through the hair at the base of her skull before making a fist and tugging on it. The sensation making her entire body tingle. “I like it,” she admitted, hoping he didn’t see the goosebumps that spread over her body.

“Spanking?” he asked, his eyes almost imperceptibly flickering down to her ass and back up again.

She thought about Mulder bending her over his knees, his erection hot and hard as steel against her stomach as his hand came down and smacked her, causing her body to lurch against his. You like that don’t you? She felt a gush of arousal leak out and she tried lamely to clear her throat as she replied, “Yeah.”

“Restraints?”

Her eyes fluttered a little and she could feel her breath starting to become slightly shallow. “Absolutely,” before adding, “…with the right person.”

Scully chanced a look herself and saw his boxers were tented by a prominent erection. “Wh-what about you?” she asked in an unintentionally husky voice.

“What turns me on?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. She was trying to discreetly squeeze her thighs together to alleviate some pressure as she squirmed into the bed. She thought since they were making eye contact that he wouldn’t have noticed, but apparently he was even more perceptive than she’d given him credit for.

“When you do things like that,” he replied in a low, smooth baritone.

His words made her eyes widen at the same time her lips parted to gasp lightly. “Like what?”

“When you’re turned on and you try to hide it. The way you can’t sit still, the way your blush reaches your chest, the dilation of your eyes and the way your breathing changes,” he explained, giving attention to each trait with his appreciative gaze.

“Those are just the body’s natural responses to arousing stimuli. It causes-” she paused as he stretched his body, the movement pulling the hem of his shirt away from his boxers and revealing a tantalizing sliver of taut muscles. She withdrew her gaze and saw a cocky smile tugging on his lips. “It causes an increase in blood circulation that results in a flush, and the blood flow to the sex organs causes a feeling of pressure that needs to be relieved. The dilation of the eyes happens whenever anyone looks at someo-thing, something desirable.”

“And that,” he replied.

“What?” she all but whispered.

“It turns me on to hear you talk science,” he explained.

She let out a little laugh and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. "That’s my job, Mulder.“

He smiled back at her and teased, "I know, it’s hard sometimes to deal with.” She smiled at the play on words, but couldn’t help but glance back down at his persistent erection. “You didn’t deny it,” he stated confidently.

“Deny what?” How many times did she have to ask for clarification? Was it the alcohol or was this territory so foreign to her she couldn’t find footing?

“That you’re aroused,” he reminded her, his voice so deep she swore she could feel it.

“You are too,” she countered, gesturing to his boner.

“You’re not being dominated, so what’s causing it right now? Is it really just because we’re talking about sex, or?" he asked, using her words from earlier.

She followed suit. "Partly,” she replied, playing with her nails while her hands rested on her abdomen.

“Partly?” he mimicked.

The words were in her throat, but she was starting to realize they were teetering on the point of no return. He saw her thoughts swirling and he leaned in a little closer and offered, “You could tell me it was partially because of this infomercial right now and I would never think less of you. You could tell me it was because you were fantasizing about the few strands of hair Melvin has on his head that he combs over-”

She started laughing and slapped him on the arm playfully, earning a toothy grin from him. It was that small act of kindness on his part, letting her know everything would be fine no matter what she said, that did her in. “No, no. It’s um-” her laughter died down a bit as they both paid close attention to her words. “It turns me on knowing I, at least to some capacity, turn you on,” she admitted.

“At least to some capacity?” he questioned. She felt his mouth only a few inches from her ear, the weight of him dipping the bed as his warmth radiated on her side. “Scully, everything you do turns me on.”

She let her head fall to the side facing him and resisted the instinct to jump away when she realized their faces were only a few inches away. “Can I ask you another personal question?” she asked softly.

His eyes were dilated to the point of being almost black and she felt a chill run down her spine as the pulse in her sex became near unbearable. “Of course.”

“Will you kiss me?” she whispered so quietly her voice broke.

The words hit his lips and they moved almost immediately in response. He eased himself at a different angle, so that he was leaning over her reclined form yet not bearing all his weight on her as he watched her from above. His eyes roamed her face as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you sure?”

She swallowed and nodded in nervous excitement and it was all he needed to descend and close the gap between them. They’d been in close proximity to each other plenty of times before, but this was so different. She could feel him on a new, and oh so intimate, level. The way his lips, though pressed firmly against hers, were timid and languid in their movements. She could feel his breath puffing intermittently against her cheek as his nose pressed into the skin there.

He was clearly taking his time with her to enjoy this, kissing her like it may be the only time he’d ever be allowed. Wanting to encourage him, she raised her arms and snaked them around his neck, dragging him closer to her. At her touch, he parted his lips and let his tongue come out to lick her lip before pulling the bottom one in between his own so he could gently suck on it while rubbing his tongue back and forth. The sensation made her clit scream in jealousy and it fueled her to open her mouth and recapture his in a much deeper kiss.

As soon as their tongues slid against each other for the first time he groaned. Mulder actually groaned into her mouth. The sound stirred something in her and she arched her back desperate to touch more of him. She could taste the salt from the sunflower seeds he’d eaten at the bar and she wondered what he could taste lingering on her tongue. A strawberry margarita? Remnants of her chapstick? How badly she wanted him?

After kissing for long enough that her lips were swollen, she moved her leg and inadvertently rubbed against the length of him. He broke off the kiss to hiss an intake of breath in between clenched teeth. She was panting while watching him until he ducked his head and rested it the crook of her neck - his forehead resting against her warm skin. “God, you have no idea…” he panted, not finishing his statement while his breath on her neck making her eyes practically flutter shut.

She cradled the back of his head in her hand and kept it there while she turned her head to whisper into his ear. “I don’t want you to stop,” she admitted in a breathy whisper.

He pulled back so he could look at her and she was struck with how surreal the whole situation was. This was Mulder. Her partner. Her best friend. And she was actively trying to sleep with him. How long had they both been wanting this very same thing?

“I don’t want to, either,” he admitted.

She smiled at him and he returned it before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers again before moving to her neck and licking her pulse point. “Wait,” she murmured, and, as expected, Mulder pulled away immediately and look at her for any sign of hesitation.

She sat up on the bed and grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head gracelessly. She hadn’t even gotten her head out of the neck hole before she felt Mulder’s arms wrap around her bare back and pull her to her knees and into his lap, latching his mouth onto her nipple. She gasped loudly as the shirt left her body and she was met with the sight of Mulder tonguing her breasts.

“Oh my god,” she moaned in a whisper, adjusting herself so one knee was on either side of his hips, effectively straddling him. He hummed in contentment against her breast and she brought her hands up, one at the nape of his neck and the other on his shoulder to keep her stabilized.

He was swirling each rosy bud with precision and she could feel each swirl getting her wetter and wetter. She was only wearing thin cotton shorts and she could smell her own arousal, so she had no doubt Mulder could too. Being oddly sweet, even in the middle of what she hoped was foreplay, he kissed his way across her chest until he came to the other nipple, giving it just as much attention as its counterpart.

Between the cool air hitting the wetness on the peak of her breast and the way his mouth was working against her, she couldn’t help but start to rock on his lap, squirming so her arousal would rub tortuously against his. It felt so good that once she started it was hard to stop, so she started picking up the pace quickly, moaning his name in a husky tone all but ripped from her throat in pleasure.

She felt one of his hands lower down so that he was cupping her ass and helping her momentum while encouraging her to keep going. Mulder let go of her tits and let his head fall against her stenum as he pumped up against her. “Fuck, Scully," he groaned.

Then, suddenly without warning, he eased himself up so that she fell backwards onto the bed while he loomed over her. She felt him tuck two fingers under each side of the waistband of her shorts before looking at her. "I want to see you.” It was a question as much as it was a statement and she raised her hips in silent agreement, all but begging him to take them off. He slid them down the expanse of her legs and she heard him swear when she was completely bared to him.

Much like she had earlier, he whipped off his shirt and tossed it to the ground. As he did this, she put a foot on either side of him, her knees bent, so that she was completely and utterly exposed. When he caught sight of it, he put one hand on her knee while the other grabbed himself overtop his boxers, emphasizing his swollen length.

She licked her lips as she watched him stroke himself lightly. “God you’re so beautiful, Scully,” he praised, making her attention snap back to his face which was a mask of pure, unadulterated desire. He kept saying her name during this and she couldn’t help but think that it was him making sure she knew this was real. That he wanted her. The sentiments falling from his lips all sounded like things he’d thought in his mind a thousand times over. There was no hesitance, only honesty.

“So are you, Mulder,” she replied, matching him. He truly was. His torso was sculpted with lean muscles. He looked like he was glistening from his exertions and she wanted to run her tongue from the base of him to his neck. She wanted to stake her claim with her tongue.

He must’ve had a similar idea because he eased himself off the bed and, hooking his hands under the crooks of her bent legs, pulled her to the edge of the bed so that her ass lined up with the end. He got down on his knees so that he was at face level with her pussy. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he admitted, almost to himself as he placed kisses on the insides of her thighs.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her hips squirming in overwhelming anticipation of what was to come. That 'what’ inevitably being her.

“Can I put my mouth on you?” he asked in what she knew was an attempt to torture her as his mouth had to have only been an inch from her. She could feel the warmth of his words on her dripping wet arousal and it made her gasp.

“P-please,” she whimpered, grabbing onto the bedsheets on either side of her.

He made a low sound that sounded like a mix between a chuckle and a growl but she didn’t have time to dwell on it because, within a moment, he was lapping at her with his tongue and she could focus on nothing else. She gasped in a full breath of air and arched her back, immediately raising her legs to drape over his shoulders. “Muh-lder,” she whined in ecstasy as he explored her with his tongue.

He quickly stopped and looked up at her from in between her legs. “Oh, I’m sorry did you say something?” he teased with a cocky smile. The entire bottom half of his face was glistening wet and she would have been embarrassed at how absolutely aroused she was if she wasn’t more preoccupied with her own desperate need to come.

“Mulder, please,” she whined, raising her hips off the bed and scooting closer to him.

She saw a fiendish gleam in his eye as he curled his arms around her legs and buried his face in her crotch, this time latching his lips directly onto her clit. “Ah!” she cried as her whole body started humming with anticipation. She didn’t even care that she was gently rolling herself into Mulder’s face, all she could focus on was how fucking amazing it felt.

He was playing with her clit in between his lips and sucking with the same reverence you’d give to a piece of candy when trying to figure out the flavor. He was a man on a mission and she felt his tongue matching pace with her whimperings and moans. She was so distracted by it that she didn’t notice his other hand moving until she felt him curve two fingers into her.

Then, she was coming. Hard. His name was ripped from her lungs in a gasp as her whole body went rigid around him. “That’s it, Scully,” she heard him praise against her sex as he drew out her orgasm. She swore every single cell in her body was charged with the power of that orgasm, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an orgasm so powerful or for so long.

Eventually she was reduced to laying limbless, panting, as he withdrew away from her - her body twitching towards the stolen contact. She watched him stand up and saw he was somehow harder than he’d been before, the tip of his cock leaking against the material of his boxers.

Finding her strength again, she pulled herself upright and grabbed the sides of his hips to stabilize herself, his cock prominently standing out in front of her face, desperate for her attention. She glanced up and saw he was staring at her with parted lips, waiting anxiously for her next move. She’d seen it before, but never in this context. When she’d seen it he was hurt, in distress, in pain, and more importantly, flaccid - never hard and aching for her.

Swallowing thickly, she pulled his boxers down his legs, helping him step out of them, and sitting upright to see Mulder in all his naked glory. “Fuck," she muttered to herself, taking in just how big he was now that he was fully on display. She raised her hand and wrapped it around his girth, giving him an exploratory stroke and enjoying the way he pulsed in her hand.

"Scully,” he gasped, letting his head fall back, his face towards the ceiling as she played with him. She opened her lips and put just the tip in her mouth, closing around him as she swirled her tongue along the rim of his tip.

“Wait,” he gasped, concaving his hips away from her and putting his hands on her shoulders, causing her to let go and look up at him.

She was still enjoying the taste of him on her tongue when he bent down and kissed her quickly before stating, “I’m sorry, as much as I’d love for you to do that, I’m too close and-” He didn’t say what he was implying, but she knew.

Crawling backwards onto the middle of the bed, she met his eyes and, in a sensual voice she didn’t know she had, demanded, “Come 'ere.”

He quickly crawled onto the bed so that he was looming over her, letting the weight of his body fall onto her before kissing her sweetly, a three-sixty from the passionate kisses they’d shared earlier, but still just as intense. His body felt exquisite so intimately pressed against hers. His erection was prominent against her inner thigh and if she wasn’t so trapped between him and the bed, she’d shift until he was where she wanted him.

Releasing her lips, he kissed her cheeks, her nose, and her forehead, peppering her entire face with kisses. She smiled at the sweet gesture and he looked pleased with himself for eliciting the reaction. “This,” he stated simply, raising his hand to brush back the sweaty hair sticking to her face. “This is what I’ve fantasized about.”

The fact he hadn’t even entered her, nor really done anything other than contribute to her pleasure, made the sentiment all the more powerful. He chose to reveal that as they were taking a moment to simply bask in each other and enjoy the intimacy of closeness. She felt her smile grow wider at his neverending ability to make her love him and whispered, “Me too.”

A miniscule flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes at her admission and she couldn’t believe after all these years he could still not know how she felt. She raised a hand to the side of his head and raked her nails across his scalp comfortingly. “I don’t want to wait anymore,” she murmured sweetly.

Nodding, he eased up and reached between them to grab himself, positioning the tip of his cock at her entrance. She leaned her head up so she could watch as he tentatively rubbed his erection up and down her folds, coating himself in her arousal before attempting to enter her. Everytime his head rubbed against her clit, she twitched - her body recovering while still preparing for another orgasm.

From her position, she saw as he eased in slowly, going in inch by inch to let her stretch around him comfortably. She her eyes kept darting between the sight of their bodies joining and the way his face seemed to contort in ecstasy at the sensation, a face she knew was being reflected back at him.

Every toy she’d ever put in herself while imagining it was him couldn’t compare to how good he really felt. From the way he throbbed inside her to the way his hands were clutching her hips like a lifeline to the way his pubic mound felt rubbing against hers - she felt like she was immersed in the sensations of him. “Mulder,” she breathed, raising her legs to wrap around his back and therefore letting him sink in deeper.

“How’s this?” he asked in a strained voice, keeping himself buried inside of her without moving.

She knew he was making sure he wasn’t hurting her and it was endearingly sweet. But sweet was not what she needed in this very moment.

“More,” she commanded, rocking impatiently against him and eliciting a moan from him.

He moved so he had a hand on either side of her head as he started pumping in and out of her, tentatively setting a rhythm. “Fuck, Scully," he whispered in what sounded like relief and grattitude combined.

She knew he was close because he had been all night and she wanted to make it as good for him as he’d made it for her. She rolled her hips upwards in a constant, steady rhythm so that on every inward thrust, their arousals ground together.

Having sex with him, in an odd way, felt like having a debate at work; each of them were highly attuned to the other, but instead of fighting to prove their point, they were competing to bring the other one more pleasure. As she rocked into him, he seemed to pick up the pace, angling his hips in a way that caused the curve of his cock to rub against her inner muscles just where she needed him. She let out a little high pitched keening sound and bit her lip as her brows furrowed. "Do you like that?” he asked in between thrusts.

“Y-yeah,” she whimpered, grabbing her chest to give her hands something to do.

He started shifting his body slightly and she thought he was just readjusting until she felt his hands thread through her hair, pulling on it with careful force. She bit her lip and her eyes fluttered shut as a bolt of arousal shot straight to her core. Encouraged by her reaction, he picked up the pace so that he was slamming into her hard and fast - the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberating off the walls, accompanied by the sound of pure wetness.

The hand not entangled in her hair slid down her body, over her abdomen and past her iliac crest, and raked through her auburn curls until he could rub her clit. She gasped his name and her hands shot up to clutch his shoulders. “Oh god, please,” the words tumbled from her mouth blindly.

Following her instructions, he swirled the swollen bud vigorously as he pounded into her, beads of sweat trailing down his torso. She felt that familiar pressure building up and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to take much more. “Mulder, I’m gonna-”

And before she could even finish the sentence, her muscles were spasming against his length as he growled her name, giving a few final thrusts until he

was peaking with her, spurting deep inside.

They both had locked eyes during their orgasms and she felt every ounce of his affections laser focused on her. It was overwhelming in the best way possible. After he was spent, he collapsed next to her, holding her close as they caught their breaths.

“Did I do as good as your toys?” he asked jokingly, easing the tension with a joke - clearly worried that her pot-coital mood would be regret rather than bliss.

Absolving his worry, she turned in his arms so she could snuggle closer, placing a kiss on his lips gently before honestly murmuring, “You have no idea.”

It was weird, the room had only been filled with the sound of their bodies a few moments before, but now for some reason it felt significantly more intense. The sounds of sex replaced with the sounds of contentment.

Content.

That’s the only word she could think of to use right now. What she’d been wanting for so long had finally happened and it was as amazing as she’d hoped. She readjusted her head and reveled in how his chin felt on top of her head - how she seemed to perfectly fit in his arms.

“I’m not drunk,” he stated out of nowhere, sounding as if the words were ripped from his throat unconsciously.

She leaned back and looked at Mulder who was currently trying to analyze her again. In that moment, she realized he’d taken her silence and twisted it into something self-deprecating. Maybe that she’d been hoping she could blame it on intoxication, whatever his reasoning was - no matter how strange the circumstances leading up to this moment were, she’d never take it back. Her beautiful fool. Pushing herself up on the bed just a little, she pressed another meaningful kiss to his lips before easing away and reassuring, “Me either.”

He smiled at her and she fell back into his arms. She knew he knew her well enough to know not to press her. She loved him, but she’d already revealed so much of herself tonight. He was content knowing she wanted this to happen and wasn’t opposed to it happening again.

The other truths would come in due time.

#msr #gaycrouton #my fanfiction #dana scully #fox mulder #smut #x files smut

[sigritandtheelves]

You told me you don't believe in canon, can I ask why? I am really curious, and I don't mind a long detailed answer ( lol). Also what are your thoughts on the difference between canon divergent and AU?

Crisis on Infinite Truths, or, Why I Don’t Believe in Canon (And Neither Should You)

Thanks for this ask, friend. I’ve thought about this quite a bit, especially when I see occasional comments about what or when events “really” happened, or people saying that they don’t like AU (by which they often mean any canon divergence). So here’s my little manifesto on why I think adherence to canon is pointless (and painful).

The world of the X-Files contradicts itself. Constantly.

Mulder and Scully met in March, 1992 (Pilot). But in December, 1993, they’d known each other only a few months. Scully was missing for four weeks. No wait, Duane Barry clearly takes place in August, and she was returned in November so that’s three months!  Samantha’s middle name is Teena—no, Anne! Margaret Scully gave Dana her cross necklace for her birthday… or was it for Christmas?

Anyone who’s ever tried to piece together a coherent timeline for this show knows that there are constant, frustrating contradictions, and numerous impossibilities—but not the good kind that Mulder likes to investigate. We pick and choose these minor points to accept or deny all the time without worrying about betraying canon. Why, then, do some remain committed to the idea of a “true” storyline (canon), even after major contradictions in story, not to mention the betrayals and cruelties of our Clueless Creator? It’s a matter of personal preference and one’s own relationship to the show, but here’s why I don’t believe in canon.

The smaller discrepancies listed above (just a tiny sampling) appear early in what I think of as the main timeline of seasons 1-7, but the contradictions that began to appear afterward were truly egregious: major changes in the mythology and characterization that were incompatible with earlier seasons, and which were sometimes later retconned by the show itself (Supersoldiers? Never happened. Colonization in 2012, “The date is set!”? Nup.). The plot became desperate (for ratings and to intensify its drama), cruel (to both Mulder and Scully in its violences and unjustified, poorly handled traumas), dictated by real-world constraints (Duchovny’s absence), and utterly nonsensical (the Smoking Man appears to be an otherworldly demon? He dies how many times?). I mostly hang with canon in the first seven seasons, but after that, I feel absolutely no obligation to this nonsense. Season ten was so painful and so offensive in so many ways—I won’t ever go near most of that season. I don’t think any fan should feel obligated to believe in one “true” timeline, especially when it seems written into the show that there are multiple possibilities and versions of truth.

My orientation toward canon, and I think that of many fanfic writers, is based on this multiplicity: we pick narrative elements that are grounded in what’s given or represented in the show itself. We reframe and retell. We offer something new. I’m going to draw, just briefly, on the work that I do academically, and talk about hermeneutics. Writing fanfiction is a transformative act of interpretation. By necessity, all of it is canon-divergent to some extent, because canon (like any primary text) contains no “true” interpretation. There is no single and correct reading, no singular meaning beyond what we, as readers and viewers, bring to it. A text is worth what we make of it and nothing more. Isn’t that incredibly liberating?

Why are some people so committed to the idea of canon?

When I first returned to writing fanfic, I had an epic goal in mind—I wanted to trace the relationship development between Mulder and Scully through all of the years of the show. I failed very early on because the project quickly felt both impossible and unnecessary. Most fic that is “canon compliant” emphasizes a particular piece of the timeline in order to parse out the distinct emotional and psychological nuances of a single arc. We zero in on one place to make sense of it (hermeneutics) and then tell our stories that offer more than the original. Already, we diverge from canon.

Rather than an account of the whole series, my idea became an effort to understand and reframe the reproduction arc, beginning in season five. It became the “Bearings” series of four stories, which attempted to be faithful to canonical events as much as possible. But even then, it diverged after the beginning of season eight because the things that happen in that season do not make sense in the arc of the rest of the show. I could find absolutely no justification for Mulder’s “death” based on what we know of the alien plot. Supersoldiers? They get written out of the show after season nine! They don’t make sense in relation to anything else we know about the aliens, and they never appear again. Screw supersoldiers, and screw the nonsensical mytharc of seasons eight and nine. I rewrote it in the final part.

People focus on the canonical because they want there to be coherence and consistency—they want a true truth that is grounded in the show’s representation. I say: let go of that. It is impossible both because the writing contradicts itself, literally, over and over again, and because many of the events that do become consistent (Scully gave up William? Really, we’re sticking with that one because no one in Hollywood knows how to write children?) are so fundamentally wrong in relation to what we know of the characters.

There is no dogma, there is no truth, there is no single and correct canon. We have pieces. Let’s make beautiful things with them.

Through all of a narrative’s divergent possibilities, we choose our elements.

We know that the arc of this overall story was not planned. There’s no show bible, no “truth” that was ever out there, in the end. What we have instead are truths (plural) and infinite possibilities: factoids, events, feelings, characters. Personally, I have a few things that I hold as true across most versions of the stories that I like to tell, and some of that borrows from post-season-seven events, even as I tend to rewrite canon after that point: Mulder and Scully tried IVF, but it didn’t work. Afterward, they had two children together (at a reasonable human age for conceiving children). They find their way (in all ‘verses) to the unremarkable house. They keep fighting the good fight and are as tough as nails—but they always love the absolute hell out of each other and their kids. These are the elements that I often choose to keep, and the rest I can play around with. Others do great things with other bits and pieces, and I like to experiment with angsty vignettes, too. I dig a good break-up fic, for example. Even an on-the-run fic: I love those, too. There are interesting, nuanced, painful, and beautiful things that can be done with what 1013 gave us—but not with everything it gave us and nothing else.

What’s the difference between AU and Canon Divergence?

This is a difference that gets conflated all the time, and I’m just as guilty of this mix-up as anyone else, because of the way the term AU gets used these days. It’s not a huge deal; I’m not really into taxonomizing and hair-splitting. But I do think story metadata is useful for finding what you’re looking for, so maybe we should clarify what these things mean. AU stands for Alternate Universe, and initially, that’s what this term was used to designate: a fundamental difference in worlds. Let’s put Mulder and Scully in the Wild West, or the 1950s, or in space, and see how their story changes or stays the same. I love these stories, as many do, because they maintain essential elements from the world of the show (characterization, certain plot points, family relations, approximations of life-defining events), but allow readers and writers to speculate about how things might have played out, were the world not as it is.

Canon divergence is different, and also is pretty self explanatory. This is the world of the X-Files, but here’s how things would play out if just this one thing (or these five) happened differently: Melissa didn’t die in Paper Clip; Scully and Mulder kept and raised William; Mulder finds Samantha alive at the end of Closure; etc. These stories are great because they allow for imaginative speculation, but keep us in a world we’re familiar with. But again, all fanfiction involves creative speculation. All of it diverges from what we actually saw. These just diverge a little more widely. They speculate a little bit harder, maybe.

The difference between canon divergence and AU gets fuzzy in spaces like pre-XF, because it’s kind of an AU—a world that takes place before the timeline of the show, and therefore makes major changes before there’s such thing as “canon” (see—we using scare quotes now). It seems like hair-splitting to argue for one or the other, but AU probably makes the most sense, unless you’re going to incorporate major elements of the canonical storyline too.

So that’s pretty much all I have to say. Sorry for the long-windedness, but I’d love to chat more about it.

#xf meta #my rant on canon #and why it's bullshit