spookyshipperfics - Tumblr blog

[spookyshipperfics]

I Don't Like Us Like This

Chapter 1 of 4. Guys, this is an angsty one. Come follow along.

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: E

Tagging: @today-in-fic

What is it About? After a misunderstanding, Scully and Mulder start using jealousy as an excuse to hook up. Things get complicated when Mulder wants something more.

Read a Sample: Mulder hadn’t meant for this to happen.

When he invited Scully over, he’d been lounging on the couch, trying to lose himself in television. His arms hadn’t been around the intern Skinner sent to drop off witness testimony until Scully walked through his door. But she hadn’t seen the fall, hadn’t witnessed him rushing to assist the mortified woman to her feet. His hands had only been on her hips to lift her from the floor.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” he said after the intern rushed out, but Scully didn’t care. She never cared—not lately.

She had been hot and prickly. Cold and distant. For the last week, her infamous eyerolls took aim at Skinner’s overly friendly intern instead of him. Now, she suspected the worst. They were just partners. He shouldn’t care, but he did. He cared so much his heart hurt.

“What you do in your personal time is your business, Mulder, but you didn’t need to rub it in my face.” The ferocity behind the statement matched her dagger-sharpened gaze. “Here’s your file!” When she slammed it on the dining table, he snapped.

“Just give me a second, Scully. One fucking second, and I can explain.”

Scully didn’t want explanations; she excelled at shutting them down. She preferred to leave him simmering and sullen. But he was sick of that pattern and surmised she was, too.

She turned to leave, and he yanked her back. “I didn’t touch her.”

Mulder hadn’t expected Scully to reach for his belt any more than he expected her to slip her underwear from beneath her skirt. When she flipped around and braced herself on the table, he became utterly powerless. There was too much tension to resist. Too many hormones. Too many years of staring at her from across the room, wondering how sweet she tasted.

Read the rest on a03.

[spookyshipperfics]

Fascinating (Part 2)

This was posted a while ago, but better late than never for a Tumblr drop.

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: T

Tagging: @today-in-fic

Part of the Do You Like Scary Movies? series

What is it About? Scully and Mulder continue their hike in the woods after the new development in their relationship. If only Skinner wasn't around to witness it.

Read it: Chocolate and peanut butter swirled delightfully in Mulder’s mouth. He was on his third protein bar; Scully was halfway through her second. Skinner’s count was unknown. Mulder couldn’t be bothered with the assistant director, who remembered to pack a toothbrush but not two tents. He wrestled with conflicting actions: a swift punch to the face or dropping to his knees in gratitude. After all, Skinner’s oversight led to Mulder feeling Scully up just this morning. When she’d admitted to liking it, the message felt like it had been hand-delivered by cherubs on a ribbon-wrapped scroll.

“Mulder,” Scully groaned, almost as if she could hear his thoughts. “How close did you say we were to your supposed hermit cabin?”

Right. The cabin. The witch.

He cleared his head, reminding himself that Scully’s boobs weren’t the reason they were currently standing in the middle of a forest. Delving into his backpack, he traded the empty protein bar wrapper for the map. “It’s allegedly in this area… somewhere.”

The piercing hot glare she hurdled his way made him giddy. The heat shot to his core, his cock taking notice.

“Need I not remind you, Scully, that you called my theory fascinating earlier.”

“A mystery in itself,” Skinner grumbled somewhere off to Mulder’s left.

“I don’t want to spend another night in these woods,” Scully pleaded. “Not without more evidence. We are on a literal witch hunt, Mulder. It’s Saturday.”

His stomach dropped. Scully was right. This wasn’t a case; this was purely extracurricular. A mindless nosedive into the supernatural just because he was curious. Sasquatch hunting. Jumping onto ghost ships. Add it to the list of poorly planned activities he continuously threw himself into. No wonder Scully and Skinner had followed him out here with matching expressions of uncertainty.

Reckless was his middle name.

The memory of Scully’s soft skin beneath his palm made him realize he was reckless with everybody—everything—but her. Six long years together, and it took Skinner’s hiking incompetence to push them together. Now, he felt more teenager than man. Excited. Anxious. Overflowing with hormones. He’d do anything to touch her again like that.

Cut off his arm. No problem.

Close down the X-Files. Of course.

Leave the forest because it’s what Scully wants. Sure thing.

“Okay,” Mulder relented. “How about this? Since we are already out here, one final search, just around this bend, and then we head back. Scout’s honor.”

Scully revealed her satisfaction with a small smile.

“Before we do that,” Skinner said, forehead dotted with sweat. “I’m going to take a quick bathroom break. I’ve gone through almost my entire canteen already.”

With Skinner disappearing into the trees, Mulder turned to Scully. “Come here.” She took a step closer with the expected skeptical expression. “You have something on your mouth.

“Mulder,” she huffed, and he wasn’t sure what was more dramatic: the way she threw her hands up or her eye roll.

“What?” he asked. “What could I have possibly done to elicit that type of response?”

“It’s just…” The exaggerated gestures were gone. She picked at an invisible cuticle instead. “Sometimes you can be so—”

“Polite?” he interrupted. “Considerate. Respectful. If I didn’t tell you—”

“I was going to say bashful.”

“Bashful? Really?” His voice cracked with surprise. It was the last thing he’d expected her to say.

“It’s just after this morning, I thought we had made… um… progress. I didn’t expect you to revert to cheesy pick-up lines. If you wanted to kiss me, you could just do it.”

Surely, his jaw must be on the ground. He felt like he’d been hit with a teeth-rattling, head-rocking punch. The crunching of leaves signaled Skinner’s return. Mulder’s hand jutted out, wiping the smudge of chocolate from the corner of Scully’s lip. A leftover from their protein bars.

“Like I said, you had something on your mouth.” To prove it to her, he held up his thumb before quickly sucking off the offending chocolate. Scully stared at him, her blue eyes widening.

“Sorry, it took me so long. I got a bit turned around,” Skinner announced. Mulder and Scully were still staring at each other. They must have looked like a pair of idiots because Skinner cleared his throat. “Um… are you two okay?”

“Fine,” they both uttered a little too quickly.

“Actually,” Mulder began, tearing his gaze from Scully’s. “Let’s spread out for the search. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Scully and Skinner nodded as he plopped his backpack on the ground, digging through it.

“Here,” Mulder said, tossing them each a walkie-talkie. “These should be charged. We meet back here in ten minutes. No later.”

“Besides the cabin, is there anything in particular we should be looking for?” Skinner asked.

“A cauldron and a broomstick,” Scully jeered before stalking off.

It didn’t take Mulder long to find her. Scully’s hair was poor camouflage against the sparse greenery. She whipped around as a branch snapped beneath his weight. FBI training ensured her ears were sharp and her movements were quick.

“Mulder?” she questioned, eyes dropping to the watch around her wrist, likely wondering if she miscalculated the time, although they both knew she wouldn’t be the one to do that—not without a good reason.

He used the opportunity to close the distance, to urge her backward until her back gently connected with a tree. When she peered up, he leaned forward. He didn’t think, just felt. Scully’s statement flashed in his head.

If you wanted to kiss me, you could just do it.

So he did. He kissed her slow and thorough. His hand cupped her jaw and tilted her chin, bringing her closer. When he went to pull away, to check in, to see if he’d made the worst mistake of his life, Scully rushed forward. Her lips found his again, this time parted and hungry. He accepted her tongue. Sucked her lower lip. Did all the dirty things he’d fantasized about for so long.

Part of him had expected it to be different. Visions of kissing Scully often started with fancy bottles of red wine and candle-lit dinners. But he realized now that wasn’t her; those were expectations of other women he didn’t want. Didn’t need. He was ravishing Scully against a tree in a haunted forest, not just because he desired to but because she asked him to.

Her hands were in his hair. Pulling. Tugging. Beckoning him closer. His desperate want of her wasn’t new, but it had reached a new level. It was more manageable when Scully’s tongue wasn’t lost in his mouth. When he hadn’t known what her whimpers of arousal sounded like or how she tasted. God, she was a good kisser. So fucking good.

“Mulder. Come in.” Skinner’s voice crackled through the walkie-talkie clipped to his side. “I’m back at the rendezvous. Over.”

They both jumped. Tongues slipping from each other’s mouths. Hands falling from each other’s bodies. Suddenly, Mulder was right back to his predicament this morning in the tent. Hard as a rock and crafting a hit list with Skinner’s name at the tippy top.

He fumbled with his walkie-talkie. “Be there in five,” he huffed, releasing the button before grumbling, “Skinner is the true evil in these woods, Scully.”

She smiled, her lips still swollen and wet from his kisses. Her cheeks were flush, her hair messy. The idea that he’d done that to her sent a jolt of arousal through his core that wasn’t helping matters. “We should head back,” he said. If he was lucky, his erection would dissipate on the walk.

“Hmm. That’s a shame,” she commented, reaching for his hand and entwining their fingers as they walked back to Skinner.

“What took you two so long?” Skinner asked with an aura of annoyance when they emerged from a tangle of trees a few minutes later—hands now unclasped. “What happened to ‘Meet back here in ten minutes. No later?’”

So, Skinner wasn’t just a cockblock. He was nosey, too. Mulder shrugged. “I guess my watch is slow. I ran into Scully on the walk back.”

Skinner’s eyes narrowed. However, if he wasn’t satisfied by the excuse, he didn’t say it. “I didn’t find anything. Certainly, no cabin. You?”

“That’s a negative on our end,” Mulder confirmed.

“Let me guess,” Skinner began. “This is the part where you argue you need more time. That the truth is out here; we just have to keep searching.”

“Actually, I’m ready to get back. I have more pressing things to attend to in Alexandria.” Mulder struggled to keep his gaze on Skinner, to not side-eye a freshly kissed Scully beside him.

“You’re full of surprises, Mulder,” Skinner commented. “I thought for sure we’d be out here another night on a witch hunt.”

“I guessed the same thing, sir,” Scully offered. “However, it seems I was able to talk some sense into Agent Mulder on the walk here.”

Now, both he and Skinner were staring at Scully, but Mulder knew only he could see the glimmer of mischief in Scully’s eyes.

“I argued this witch likely serves a greater purpose for the locals. One of warning,” she continued. “The woods can be a dangerous place. Crafting a tale like this is intended to keep people away. It’s practically ripped straight from a fairy tale.”

“Makes sense,” Skinner agreed.

Scully nodded. “That’s what Agent Mulder said, too. He was quite generous with his receptiveness, actually.” The tiniest upturn of her lips deceived her otherwise perfect poker face. She was flipping the tables, trying to get him back. God, he loved her. “What did you call my theory again, Mulder? Fascinating?”

“Beautiful,” he corrected, delighting as a blush spread across her cheeks.

“You two really are weirdos, you know that?” Skinner muttered before setting off down the trail.

Mulder had a big grin plastered acorss his face. He couldn’t disagree with the sentiment.

Come show some love on a03 here.

[spookyshipperfics]

Fascinating

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: M

Tagging: @today-in-fic

Part of the Do You Like Scary Movies? series

What is it About? An awkward hiking scenario results in Mulder and Scully sharing a tent. The problem... Skinner is also there.

*This could probably pass for T, but I went with M just to be safe.

Read it: “What do you mean you forgot the tents?” Mulder’s voice competed against the distant rumble of thunder. His eyes bounced accusingly between Scully and Skinner.

“I thought you packed them, Agent Scully?”

“I thought I did, Sir.” Scully was all innocence and raised eyebrows. “When you said the tents were ‘ready to go’ in your garage, I assumed you meant in the backpacks.”

“You know what they say about assuming,” Mulder muttered.

Scully whipped her head in his direction, her gaze hot daggers. Mulder knew her patience was thin. That if Skinner wasn’t here, he could very well be a victim of homicide at her capable hands.

“At least one of us is prepared,” Mulder added, smirking despite Scully’s wrath. There was something cute about her annoyance. Rosey cheeks and exaggerated eye rolls were a secret treat.

“Shut up, Mulder.”

“Maybe it’s the witch. Tearing us apart. Creating chaos.”

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to blame this on some outlandish folk myth,” she shot back. “If that’s the case, I’d have to declare your theory—”

“Fascinating,” he intruded. The bickering was always fun, even with Skinner there to bear witness. He almost felt guilty as a raindrop hit her forehead. The weather had soured as quickly as the mood. Still, Scully wasn’t supposed to be here. Neither was Skinner.

It had started as a slide show presentation on the Burkittsville disappearances. It wasn’t an X-File, not really. Dating back to the 1880s, the mystery had no federal call to action. The missing persons reports were never verified. The idea that a witch was behind it all seemed even more unlikely. Mulder wasn’t surprised when Scully shot him down. It wouldn’t stop him from investigating on his own time, and he’d told her so. What Mulder hadn’t expected was for Scully and Skinner to follow him. The excuse: Skinner was an avid hiker when he wasn’t pushing pencils. The truth: they were worried he’d go rogue again. After all, it hadn’t been that long since he’d jumped ship, quite literally, off of the Queen Anne.

Now, Mulder was shoved into a tent with Scully and Skinner, the avid hiker who apparently couldn’t be bothered with double-checking he’d packed pertinent survival gear. It had been too far to hike back. The impending rain demanded they make camp quickly, none of them considering what the next steps would look like. With the tent erect and raindrops pelting, the next steps were… rough.

Awkwardness invaded the space, which was not quite big enough for two people, never mind three. They took turns stripping off heavy jackets and boots while avoiding eye contact. No one was getting into pajamas. That much was clear.

After pulling off his sweatshirt, Mulder’s nighttime attire would consist of jeans and a cotton T-shirt. Skinner—well, he didn’t actually care what Skinner would be sleeping in because Scully had been hiding skin-hugging leggings and a baggy sweatshirt beneath her coat. The reveal stole Mulder’s attention, and he forced himself to avert his eyes as she took to hands and knees to spread thermal-insulated blankets across the tent floor.

Mulder cursed and thanked the universe when they decided he would occupy the middle spot. It makes the most sense, Skinner had rationalized, and Scully had agreed while worrying her bottom lip.

God, that lip.

Mulder couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like between his own teeth. The image haunted him to the tent floor where he realized sleeping between his beautiful partner and his boss would be just as this-can’t-be-happening horrible as he hypothesized. But it was happening. Just like a restless, dead asleep Skinner was scooting closer to him and, in turn, sending him nearer to Scully. It was cruel, really. Of all the times he’d fantasized about getting Scully into bed, it never accounted for Skinner snoring behind him. If it weren’t for the steady thump of rain or his sheer exhaustion, irritation would have kept him awake like caffeine.

The next time his eyes fluttered open, the pinky beginnings of sunrise had invaded the tent just like he had invaded Scully’s space. Wrapped around her like a cat, his hand had slipped under her shirt, fingers resting just beneath the swell of her breast. He startled at the realization, his heart reeving to life like a chainsaw. Scully shifted and stiffened. The universe’s second sinister joke. Mulder had his hand up Scully’s shirt, and now she knew.

He pulled away extraordinarily slow like he wanted to extract the pin from a grenade without triggering an explosion. His palm barely moved two inches when she stopped him. The grenade might not have exploded, but he nearly did. To his total disbelief, Scully’s little hand tugged his upward until it returned to where it started.

Hesitant fingers extended to caress soft skin with this new permission. He explored the warm space beneath the weight of her breast as his thumb stretched higher until he couldn’t take it anymore and cupped her fully. Scully whimpered. His jeans got tighter. Skinner still snored from behind him, the sound far enough away that he must have rolled over.

Mulder could care less. Scully’s breast was in his unworthy hand. He squeezed. He fondled. He teased her nipple until it hardened beneath his touch. Scully wiggled backward. Her back rammed into his chest, her backside against his eager groin. Her sweet-smelling hair muffled his groan.

There were thousands of words on the tip of his tongue. Questions. Assurances. Dirty sentiments. All of them were lost in the moment. Instead, he chose greed. His hand slid from her breast to the band of her leggings. He needed to feel her. To know if she was as wet and warm as he suspected. His fingertips dipped beneath the elastic of her pants just as Skinner’s heavy arm slammed across his waist.

Mulder almost screamed from the suddenness. He’d just gone from rounding third base to Skinner intercepting the ball. If Mulder listened closely enough, he could practically hear Skinner shouting, “You’re out, loser.” Mulder cuddled Scully. Skinner cuddled Mulder. If anyone had walked in, the three of them would surely be filing for unemployment. Maybe they’d even have to settle for jobs slinging peanuts at his metaphorical baseball field.

“Mmmm,” Skinner mumbled. “Shit. Sorry.”

Mulder grumbled a bitter “Don’t worry about it,” but nobody was there to hear it. Scully fled the tent with mutterings of “getting breakfast” while Skinner scooted away like he’d been electrocuted.

When Skinner requested privacy to change, Mulder exited the tent. Scully had a few protein bars in her hand and tossed him one with a shy smile. The forest smelled like rain. A dampness hung around them, dark and gray. There was something else there, though.

Hope.

The sun’s rays warmed the higher they got. Bright light penetrated the tree line. Birds chirped, hinting at good things to come. He felt the same about Scully, standing there with mussed hair and peach-colored cheeks. Energy had shifted. Their weather pattern had changed. The forecast, he hoped, was bright and sunny.

“Hi,” he offered.

“Hi.” Scully dropped her gaze before resettling on his eyes and then his lips.

“This morning… I…” Bright and sunny, he reminded himself. “I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen. That there isn’t something there.” He almost slapped a hand over his mouth.

Scully’s cheeks blazed pink, and his stomach flip-flopped. Suddenly, the need to apologize rose like bile in his throat. They were partners. Co-workers. “Scully… listen,” he stumbled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, Mulder,” she interjected, chin proud and shoulders back. Her stare was still glued to his lips. “I liked it.”

Mulder nearly fell to his knees, but then he noticed Skinner had appeared. The assistant director strode up with a brow-furrowing expression on his face. “Liked what?”

Mulder couldn’t help the glower that consumed his face. In one poorly timed second, Skinner returned to public enemy number one. “Scully… uh… was just saying how much she liked my theory on the Burkittsville witch.”

“Really?” Skinner’s eyebrows arched in disbelief.

“Really,” Mulder echoed. “What were you just calling it, Scully? You used a very particular adjective.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she was always quick to play the part. His partner. His friend. The woman who had stolen his heart the moment he’d met her. “Fascinating,” she grumbled.

And just like that, Mulder was grinning again.

Come show some love on a03 here.

[spookyshipperfics]

Chocolate or Vanilla

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Tagging: @today-in-fic

What is it About? Scully and Mulder’s baseball date ends with some feeling realizations in Mulder’s kitchen.

*This is a follow-up to my fic Different.

Read a Sample: The smell of fresh-cut grass lingered in her nose. The warmth from Mulder’s backward embrace remained like a keepsake. His low whispers echoed in Scully’s ears. It had been shameless flirting. Something that couldn’t be disguised as anything else. After all, they had no other reason to stand in the middle of a baseball diamond, bodies protocol-breaking close.

He had invited her back to his apartment with the promise of ice cream. The real thing. None of the Tofutti crap, as he so poetically put it. And she had agreed. Despite the eye rolls and dismissive jokes, she wanted nothing more than to be in his kitchen as the clock ticked well into the night.

“Chocolate or vanilla, Scully?”

Their eyes met, the memory slicing into the room and draining the innocence like blood. Schoolyard flirtations and girlish giggles were like pretty wrapping paper. Beneath it was their secret. Lips on flesh. His tongue against her clit. A moment of comfort leading to a moment of weakness. Ethan had started it; Ethan had interrupted it. She had cried, and Mulder let her label it a mistake. They never talked about it again.

Five years later, chocolate or vanilla wasn’t a question. It was an acknowledgment of the night she’d begged for something different. Different life. Different sex. A different flavor of fucking ice cream.

Her eyes shifted to the plastic bag that held her choices. “Chocolate.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Chocolate is different. Dark. Dangerous. Indulgent.” Her gaze snapped to him—her hopeful-looking metaphor. “I crave it all the time, but I push it to the back of my freezer, hoping that I’ll move on. That vanilla will fill the void, but it never does. I’m not sure it ever really did.”

He moved closer. Close enough that Scully could feel his body heat. Close enough that her heartbeat quickened.

“Chocolate is perfect, even if it’s a little bad for me. That’s why I like it. The thrill. The comfort. The… taste.”

She stepped forward, crushing her mouth against his just like she did five years ago. Whatever umbilical energy existed between them blazed like lightning and almost stung her lips. And the taste—the taste was better than chocolate. Salty. Sweet. Mulder. Her tongue dove in, craving more, needing more. Mulder pulled back.

“Scully,” he uttered, resting his forehead against hers. “I want this. More than you know, but not if you’re going to categorize it as a mistake again.”

Her pounding heart cracked. “You could never be a mistake, Mulder.” Her hand found the side of his jaw, her thumb tracing small circles against his cheek. “Back then, I was scared of being your mistake. Now, I…we are in so deep. It’s different. We are different.”

They’d fallen into darkness together and come out stronger. She wasn’t a fledgling agent; she was a woman who had seen pain, love, and everything in between. Mulder wasn’t just a rebound; he was her entire world. Scully had been right about him back then. He was different. And that type of different fit her like a puzzle piece, even if the edges were torn and tattered.

“What if chocolate becomes like vanilla?” he asked. “Maybe one day it will lose its appeal.”

“Chocolate losing its appeal? I guess you don’t know many women, Mulder.”

He smiled. “The only woman I really care to know is you.”

“Do you remember what you said to me that night?”

His cheeks warmed underneath her fingertips. “I have an idea.”

“You said, ‘I want to fuck you like no one ever has before.’” She rose on tiptoes, bringing her lips against his ear. “Mulder, I want you to do that now. I want you to do it again.”

Reading the rest on a03.

[spookyshipperfics]

Different

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Tagging: @today-in-fic

What is it About? “She didn’t want him to see her like this. Soft. Fragile. Broken. Their partnership was still so fresh.”

What if Ethan had stuck around and cheated on Scully? Here’s a little angsty one shot of the aftermath. (MSR-focused. This is NOT a Scully/other fic)

Read it: Ethan had cheated.

The confession was a slap, the blame colliding with her like a punch. The betrayal would surely leave her bruised.

You’re never around. You work too much. You’re always with… him.

Denial was pointless. The truth was there, but infidelity was inexcusable. It didn’t warrant picking up some woman in some bar in some nearby town. So, Scully had thrown him out, watching as he gathered his scattered items and tried not to flinch when the door slammed.

Her cheeks were sticky with tears. Acidic wine stung her lips. Angry bites of vanilla ice cream soothed them. A knock echoed through the apartment. When she didn’t answer, Mulder’s concerned voice called out. Guilt had her pulling open the door. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Soft. Fragile. Broken. Their partnership was still so fresh.

Sadness and fear corrupted Mulder’s glittery green eyes. He’d looked at her similarly only a few weeks ago. Snowflakes whipped. Wind howled. In the confinement of a storage closet, they decided to choose trust. She wondered if they could do the same now.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, ignoring the file in his hand to follow her to the couch and sit too close.

Curled in a blanket, legs crisscrossed, she told him. Mulder’s gentle “sorry” made her realize she wasn’t. Her relationship with Ethan had fractured a long time ago. He was always the victim, never the offender, even after burying his dick in another woman. She had planned to end things sooner. It’s a shame he beat her to it.

“I’m not. I don’t want to settle.” Mulder’s hand was in her lap. She moved closer, stealing his warmth, stealing his strength. “I just wish he didn’t make me feel so… worthless.”

Mulder tilted her chin until their gazes locked. “Worthless is what you should be calling him.”

“I’m ready for something different,” she choked, eyes blurring with tears.

That something different was the twisted new world she’d found herself in. The challenge had intrigued her; the mystery had seduced her. Mulder’s good looks didn’t hurt. The truth was, she hadn’t seen a future with Ethan. But she did in the X-Files. Somehow, a musty basement office and towering stacks of files had started to feel like home.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips against Mulder’s before she could think better of it. The kiss lingered, almost crackled with electricity. What came next should’ve been an apology. Instead, Mulder greedily sucked her tongue into his mouth, taking her barely spoken “sorry” with it. The tenderness complimented the ferocity.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she uttered against his mouth.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Mulder agreed but eased her backward onto the couch anyway.

Danger sparkled in the corners of her mind. White hot embers warned of turning a good thing rotten. But the throbbing between her legs felt even more dangerous. The wetness there was a welcome change from tears. She trusted Mulder with her life. Of course, she could trust him with her body.

She reached for his belt, but he caught her wrist. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I want you to make me feel good,” she whispered, lips still sliding against his.

Mulder studied her with profiler eyes. “Scully, are you su—”

“Please.” The plea cracked with desperation. “I need something different.”

Mulder growled, pinning the wrists still in his grasp above her head. He didn’t need to ask if she liked it. Her whimper betrayed her. Curious hands dove beneath her pants. He bit her neck when he found her soaked. He told her how tight she felt when he pushed a finger inside.

They took turns peeling off clothes. First her pants, then Mulder’s. At some point, her shirt joined the growing pile on the floor. Mulder kneeled before her, his head diving between her thighs. The ice cream had melted long ago. Syrupy rivers of vanilla dripped down the carton and dirtied her coffee table as his tongue danced across her clit. By the time he slipped two fingers inside, she begged for it to be his cock.

Mulder twisted for his pants, wrestling a condom from his wallet. There probably should have been a conversation, but her brain was too soft with lust to care. The edges were fuzzy, her body a live wire, sparking and so fucking hot.

She rushed to move, to rise from the couch and spin around. Mulder stopped her, pressing her back into the cushions as he climbed on top of her. “Stay just like that,” he growled. “I want your pretty mouth on mine when I push into you.”

She gushed at the words, making it easier for him to do the very thing he promised. His lips molded with hers, swallowing desperate whimpers as he filled her.

He pulled back to ask, “Is this different?”

It was. Where Ethan had been fast and careless, Mulder was purposeful and attentive. She felt every inch. Every ridge. Every velvet contour. Each snap of his hips brushed that delicate little spot inside of her that screamed for attention.

“Is this different?” he repeated.

She nodded.

“Tell me.”

“Yes,” she cried. “Oh God, yes.”

He grabbed the back of her head, yanking her forward and demanding her attention. “I want to fuck you like no one ever has before.”

Their foreheads touched, then their lips. The delicacy of the kiss didn’t match his chaotic thrusts or vulgar words. This was the man who sat on the floor instead of the bed on their first case. He’d told her secrets. Whispered truths. Maintained a boundary he could easily have crossed after she disrobed in front of him. Now, he was going to make her come.

“Oh, my God, Mulder.” Pressure built in her stomach. Warmth leaked into her extremities. She tried to draw him closer, but he leaned back to graze nimble fingertips across her clit. One touch, one measly brush, and she was gone. He didn’t slow down as she pulsed and writhed around him. If anything, he dove deeper, pushed harder.

“Fuck,” he grunted, but she barely heard him. She was overwhelmed by the sensation, still consumed by her fading orgasm. “So good, Scully. So fucking good.”

His mutterings were interrupted by a metallic click. The tilt of her head revealed the front door opening. A moment later, Ethan stepped through. Her surprised squeal was overpowered by Ethan’s dramatic grunt. “I knew it.”

Mulder pulled out, tossing her the blanket balled in the corner of the couch as if both men hadn’t already witnessed her in this primal state. She wasn’t sure if Mulder had finished. Frenzied limbs yanked off the condom and struggled with his pants. In the commotion, he stumbled, knocking the ice cream carton to the ground. The splattering of sticky vanilla across her rug matched the mess unfolding before her.

“I forgot my jacket. The good one,” Ethan announced, rummaging through the coat hook by the door.

Scully made no attempt to move. Just stared at Ethan, cold and icy, as his fingers finally closed around the garment. “Leave your key,” she demanded.

He tossed it toward the coffee table, where it landed with a sharp clattering. “Glad to see you’ve already moved on.” Sarcasm flooded his voice, overflowing as he added, “Have a nice night, Dana.”

Ethan left for the second time that evening. Again, the door slammed, and tears pricked her eyes. The blanket wrapped around her still offered comfort, only this time she was naked underneath, with Mulder standing anxiously before her.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder said, gesturing toward the overturned ice cream carton. “I’m sorry about everything.”

“It’s okay.” The small laugh she offered felt like it broke her. Surely, jagged cracks would appear on her porcelain skin at any moment. “I wanted chocolate anyway.”

“Chocolate?”

“I always get vanilla. Chocolate is different” There was that word again.

Mulder nodded. “Do you have an old towel or something? I’ll clean this up.”

It was tempting. She knew he’d stay. That he’d end up back on the couch and in her arms. “You know, Mulder. What Ethan said… I haven’t… this isn’t me moving on,” she began. “This can’t… this was a—”

“Mistake,” Mulder finished. “That’s what you were going to say, right?”

It wasn’t a mistake. It was fantastic. Too good, really. But it had to be a one-time thing. Scully didn’t want to complicate his life’s work with messy feelings and delicate beginnings. It was for his own good.

When she just nodded, Mulder frowned. “Goodnight, Scully,” he said before kissing the corner of her mouth and the top of her head.

He left her then. Unlike Ethan, the door didn’t slam shut. It closed softly. She cried anyway.

A half-drunk glass of wine later, another knock reverberated through her empty apartment. Heart heavy, eyes blurry, she whipped open the door only to find a single pint of chocolate ice cream.

For the first time that night, she smiled.

Come show some love on a03 here.

[spookyshipperfics]

Discussing the Case (Completed)

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Tagging: @today-in-fic

I've been working on a Halloween: H20-inspired case fic to cap off the spooky season as part of my Do You Like Scary Movies? series. It's complete! I wasn't quite sure how to post it, so I'll just drop a quick description and a sample from Chapter 6. It's got smut, but it's more about the comedy.

What is it About? While investigating the Babysitter Killer, the local PD files a misconduct complaint against Scully and Mulder. They swear it’s a misunderstanding, but if they want to keep their jobs, Skinner has to shadow them, ensuring the allegations of “unnecessary touching” and “standing too close together” aren’t true.

Chapter 6 Sample:

November 1, 1998 - Summer Glen, CA

“Mulder,” Scully whined, pulling open the door to her motel room. “It’s late.”

“Hello to you, too,” he teased as he brushed past her.

She glanced into the hallway before securing the door as if she suspected Skinner and the entirety of the FBI to be out there. “Are you trying to get us fired?”

“Of course not.”

“Just split up then?”

“I wanted to check on you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Check on me? I’m not the one who went tumbling over a wheelbarrow.”

He smirked. “You seemed upset earlier.”

Of course, she had been upset. Mulder had been splayed across the ground with a potentially violent criminal standing over him. She’d expected the worst and told him so, lecturing him as she checked for head wounds again at the police station.

“I’m not upset, Mulder. I’m tired.” As if to prove it to him, she sunk onto the bed. “Why are you really here?”

The motel room was small. There was nowhere to sit other than the bed she was already occupying, and Mulder made himself right at home. The mattress dipped when he sat, and so did her stomach.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied, eyes wandering to the TV where an old black and white movie played, the volume barely audible. “Whatcha watching?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?”

She’d been thinking about him. About them. Warmth rushed to her cheeks, and she rolled onto her side to conceal the traitorous blush. “This whole thing with Skinner and the misconduct report. It’s embarrassing.”

“Mulder shifted in the bed until he was right behind her. She practically jumped when his arm came around her waist, but she didn’t tell him to stop—didn’t want him to stop. “I’m sorry, Scully. I’m sorry that you’re tired. I’m sorry that you’re embarrassed. To think this whole thing started because of some stupid misunderstanding.”

“That’s the thing. Maybe it’s not just a misunderstanding.”

He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember if we did the wild thing in the interrogation room.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the other complaints in that report, Mulder. The touching. The whispering. The closeness. Those aren’t… untrue. I mean, look at us right now.”

He stiffened. “Do you want me to stop? If I’m making you uncomfortable—”

“No. Of course not.”

Mulder relaxed and started tracing small circles on her forearm. “Whatever we’re doing is working. Our solve rate is above the Bureau average. I’m not apologizing for that.”

She pondered for a moment before asking, “Don’t you worry about what people think of us?”

He inched closer, respectfully closer. Despite playing the big spoon, Mulder kept his hips back. Only his upper body engulfed her. “I stopped caring about what other people think a long time ago. You have to when you’re out there chasing little gray men.”

She laughed. “What about when they call you Spooky?”

“They can call me whatever they want. The only person I care about what they think of me is you.” The sentiment was said into her hair. Then he kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger longer than they ever had before. “What do you think of me, Scully?”

Her mouth went dry. The sting of tears competed with the wetness growing between her legs. “I think you already know what I think about you,” she managed to whisper.

“Tell me,” he growled, sweeping the hair from her neck. Her throat was bare, her skin screaming to be touched. He was so close. Right there. Feverish desire climbed so quickly it made her dizzy. This wasn’t just some guy; this was Mulder ghosting his lips across her flesh. When he made contact, she gasped.

“You know I like you,” she uttered.

“Just like?” The hand around her waist slipped beneath her shirt. It was so warm she wondered if his handprint would be seared onto her stomach.

“I…Mulder…god…”

“I told you how I feel already.” His response was muffled. His lips were too busy scouring the underside of her jaw. “I feel like I’ve told you thousands of times.”

Scully flashed to last night. The way he looked under the purply lights on the dance floor. She would have kissed him right then if he’d made the move. Moves were certainly being made now. He didn’t deserve another “oh, brother.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

Read all 8 chapters here.

[spookyshipperfics]

Discussing the Case

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Part of the Do You Like Scary Movies? series

Tagging @today-in-fic

What is it About? While investigating the Babysitter Killer, the local PD files a misconduct complaint against Scully and Mulder. They swear it’s a misunderstanding, but if they want to keep their jobs, Skinner has to shadow them, ensuring the allegations of “unnecessary touching” and “standing too close together” aren’t true.

This is the First Chapter of Seven:

October 29, 1998 - Washington, D.C.

Skinner closed the conference room door behind him. The bang was louder than intended but not entirely unwarranted. It was too early for this. Mulder and Scully’s antics had interrupted his day before he’d even finished his morning coffee.

He brushed past Arlene with a simple nod. His meeting with the FBI’s head suits zapped any energy for pleasantries. He’d done enough talking already, but, of course, there was more to come.

You’ll need to handle this directly, Skinner.

And he would. He’d handle the fuck out of it as soon as he had more coffee. It was already cold by the time he plopped behind his desk. The cool sip angered him just enough to reach for the misconduct report filed against his agents.

The complaint came from an officer employed by Haddonfield PD. Scully and Mulder were supposed to investigate the supposed return of the infamous Babysitter Killer. Instead, they had allegedly been caught in a compromising situation. According to the report, they appeared to be kissing in an interrogation room, with the male agent “disrobing” before being interrupted.

Skinner brought a hand to his temple. Slow circles did little to relieve the telltale throb of a headache. That was the big accusation. The whammy. The doozy that got him called into a meeting with orders and threats to follow. It wasn’t the only one, though. The officer spelled out other “areas of concern.”

Standing too close together.

Whispering in each other’s ears.

Unnecessary touching.

It wasn’t often the FBI received misconduct reports of this nature from local PD. So, of course, it would involve Mulder and Scully, the two people who probably had more strikes against them than the entirety of the Washington headquarters.

Skinner hadn’t wanted children. Yet, here he sat, a father in some twisted sense. Disciplinary meetings and official reprimands felt a lot like lectures and detentions these days. What was next? PTA meetings? Help with homework?

If he was a surrogate father, he could at least be proud of one of them. Scully was the do-gooder. The pretty doctor with a head on shoulders. The type that blushed when she lied. Mulder was… well… Mulder. The rebel. The truth seeker. The loaded gun. He was a damn good agent, but he also came with heaping piles of trouble. The kind of trouble that wasted his time. That got him called into endless meetings and turned his coffee cold and his blood hot.

Mulder had rubbed off on Scully, and she on him. Their field reports were still messy, but she brought science and softness. She smoothed Mulder’s edges and held him to the ground when he threatened to float away. Skinner saw the way he looked at her. If Mulder had to blow up the world to save Scully, it would be lost to flames in seconds. It’s probably what got them into this fucking mess in the first place.

Kissing in the interrogation room. You’ve got to be kidding me?

Skinner sipped his coffee. The bitterness lingered on his tongue as he reached for the phone. Mulder answered on the second ring.

“It’s Skinner,” he said. “I’m flying out to Haddonfield tomorrow morning, and if you two want to keep your jobs, you better be at the gate holding flowers.”

The drive from the airport had been uncomfortably silent, but it beat the current tension. Skinner had created it. He explained the accusations while parroting the rules and regulations he hoped to God they hadn’t broken.

Agents are forbidden from consorting while on assignment. Any romantic or sexual relationships must be reported. Partnerships that break these rules are subject to reassignment.

Now, the motel room felt stifling. Skinner was sweating. Scully looked miserable, and Mulder was in the first tantrum of what Skinner expected would be many.

“This is ridiculous, sir,” Mulder protested. “Scully and I… we weren’t… we’ve never even kissed.”

Even kissed?

What the hell did that mean? That they wanted to? That they’d done other things but never allowed their lips to meet? He was sweating again. Big, dewy drops he was sure they both could see rolling down his stupid bald head.

Skinner wanted to believe them. But even now, they were sitting on the edge of the bed close enough that their shoulders touched. It didn’t help the cause, and he was thankful when Mulder jumped up to pace the room. He fantasized about clapping him on the back with a Attaboy. Stay the hell away from her so we can all keep our jobs.

“I can corroborate Agent Mulder’s story, sir,” Scully offered. “The officer who filed the report is mistaken.”

“Then explain it,” Skinner demanded.

“My hair got tangled in Agent Mulder’s pin.”

“Pin?”

“My pumpkin pin,” Mulder added. “Well, it’s a lapel, actually.”

Skinner felt another headache coming on. “I don’t care what type of pin it is. Why were you wearing it?”

“Tis the season, sir,” Mulder said as if the answer was so painfully obvious it made him foolish for even wondering.

Scully jumped in before Skinner could put his hands around Mulder’s throat. “In an effort to free my hair, it required Agent Mulder and I to get close. Eventually, he had to remove his suit jacket. I could see how that could be interrupted as kissing and disrobing from the wrong angle.”

“Well,” Skinner started while rubbing his temples. “That may all check out, but there are other complaints.”

Mulder huffed. “Name them.”

Skinner glanced at the report, not that he really needed to. He’d read it so many times it was etched in the grooves of his brain and tattooed on his eyelids. “Standing too close together. Whispering in each other’s ears. Unnecessary touching.”

“Those complaints are unfounded,” Mulder shot back.

“Oh, really? Well, why don’t you walk me through it again, Agent Mulder.”

“As Scully already explained, we were in the interrogation room—”

“Whispering in each other’s ears?” Skinner interjected.

Mulder narrowed his eyes. “Discussing the case. Then, Agent Scully’s hair became entangled with my lapel—”

“Because you were standing too close together?” Skinner tapped the misconduct report for emphasis.

Mulder’s mouth dropped before slamming back shut. Scully’s cheeks turned pink.

“I’m not sure about the unnecessary touching,” Skinner continued, but your stories support the other items on this list.”

“So this is why you came all the way here?” Mulder asked. “To lecture us?”

Skinner suppressed the hysterical laughter threatening to break free. At least he wasn’t the only one to view this relationship as some sort of messy paternal dynamic. He cleared his throat and straightened his tie. “I’m not just here to lecture you. I’m here to shadow you. Where you go, I go. What you do, I write down.”

“You can’t be serious,” Mulder moaned.

“If you two want to keep your jobs, to keep the X-Files, it’s what has to be done. I have people to answer to, too.” Skinner moved for the door, shutting down the conversation—or so he hoped.

“The Babysitter Killer may have returned. We have surveillance to do. Work to accomplish.”

It was Mulder—it was always Mulder. Skinner spun around. His eyes passed over an anxious-looking Scully to bore into her rebellious partner. “The irony isn’t lost on me, Agent Mulder. While you’re hunting down the Babysitter Killer, I’m quite literally stuck on babysitting duty.”

With that, he pushed into the parking lot.

Come say hi on a03 and follow along here.

[spookyshipperfics]

↳ Post-modern prometheus deleted twirl

[spookyshipperfics]

Something

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Part of the Do You Like Scary Movies? series

Tagging @today-in-fic

What is it About? Mulder is ready for something more with Scully, but his hopes for romance shatter when he realizes Scully has reconnected with her ex-boyfriend.

Read a Sample: Mulder was in love with Scully.

It wasn’t a new realization. In fact, he’d known it for quite some time. It was only recently that he’d said it out loud. His confession blurted from his mouth while he could still taste salt water. Scully had rolled her eyes, and he loved her even more.

They’d been inching toward something new. Something he could smell. Buttery popcorn with a movie in the background. The fresh-cut grass of a baseball diamond. Then, of course, there was Scully’s perfume. A vanilla scent that tormented him as much as it tantalized him. He wanted to drown in it, but they hadn’t gotten close enough for that—at least not yet. They hadn’t even kissed.

He was more than ready, and he suspected she was too. It’s why he nearly toppled over when he spotted a man hovering in the doorway of her apartment at 11:00 P.M. Mulder crept backward, concealing his body behind the corner, allowing only his curious eyes to take up space in the hallway. He realized then this wasn’t just any man. This was her ex. Ethan? Eric? Eli?

He didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. It had been six years, and Mulder still recognized his voice. Is that Mulder calling again? How many times had he heard that question from the other end of the phone? The memory made him uneasy; the present made him nauseous. He pulled back, leaning against the wall for balance. A steak drove through his heart, with each word drifting down the hall. He stayed that way until footsteps replaced the easy chatter, and the ding of the elevator signaled the departure of Scully’s former lover.

Mulder made the short walk to her apartment with heavy legs and lifted a hand that felt as cumbersome as lead. The pounding in his head drowned out the three raps on her door.

“Mulder,” she chirped. “Hi!”

Her eyes darted over his shoulder, and he wondered if the accompanying smile concealed disappointment. He crossed the threshold anyway. The living room was bright. Medical journals were scattered across the coffee table. Everything seemed the same, but it felt different. A quiet betrayal hung in the room.

Scully seemed unbothered as she turned and gestured to his hand. “Is that about the case?”

The file concerned a man who turned human heads into jack-o’-lanterns. It was horrific. Grisly. Yet here he stood, bearing more mysteries instead of flowers and chocolates. Maybe that was his mistake. She used to want a normal life. She probably still did.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, dropping the file among the coffee table chaos.

“I still don’t see how this concerns us,” she moaned. “It’s an unsolved murder, not an X-File.”

She knew damn well there was more. The little town of Warren Ville, Ohio, had a particularly nasty Halloween. “There’s also the howling.”

A group of unidentified bodies were discovered in the woods nearby. Witnesses reported strange howls. When Mulder suggested werewolves, they argued. Why talk about your feelings when you could debate lycanthropy?

“Okay,” she conceded, “Let’s review it, then.”

“Not tonight.”

“Oh. Well, do you want to stay for a bit anyway?”

Mulder knew what that meant. Take out food. Fridge-cold beers. Another night of inching to that unspoken thing that had unraveled in a single moment. He shook his head and formed his lies. “The Gunmen… I told them I’d stop by tonight for some drinks.”

Scully’s eyes bounced to the wall-mounted clock. Her eyebrow called his bluff with a quick arch. In your late thirties, nights out didn’t often start an hour from midnight. She let him go anyway.

Find the rest on a03

[spookyshipperfics]

i love fox mulder because he responded so beautifully to having a woman come to his room, stripping down to her underwear in a state of vulnerability and fear. many men might’ve let that lead to sex or at least leaned into the suggestiveness of it, but after he inspected her and assuaged her fears mulder gave her a blanket, and then took the floor while she laid on his bed. and that could’ve been enough —probably was enough to make her feel safe with him — but he went a step further and he leaned his head in her direction and told her about the monsters in his closet. scully was shaking and terrified and the whole thing was silly. she was getting spooked over something she didn’t believe in, and he could’ve teased her endlessly for it but instead he said: this was scary for me too. because he knows sometimes mysterious bumps are only mosquito bites, and that there is nothing to be found or bothered about, but sometimes you need someone to indulge you. to hug you. to be there and tell you they understand, too

[spookyshipperfics]

It's the official start of spooky season, so I'm sharing my horror movie-inspired fic list. Enjoy and stay spooky!

Do You Like Scary Movies? Fic Masterlist

Find me on ao3

This collection of fics has Scully and Mulder entering the universes of iconic horror movies.

*MSR is always the main focus. *No knowledge of the movies is required before reading. *These are NOT scary, but any warnings will be provided when necessary.

**********

Bigger Boat - ao3

Scully and Mulder investigate a mysterious pair of shark attacks off the coast of Martha’s Vineyard, but things aren’t exactly as they appear.

Jaws Inspired / Words: 9,658 / Rating: E

If You Were That Stoned, What? - ao3

Scully and Mulder head to Camp Crystal Lake to investigate the grounds, but things are derailed by partying camp counselors. Instead of breaking up the party, though, they become a part of it.

Friday the 13th Inspired / Words: 4,284 / Rating: M

Vacancy - a03

On the way to a case, Scully and Mulder lose their battle against the rain and have to spend the night at the Bates Motel. Smuttiness ensues.

Psycho Inspired / Words: 2,859 / Rating: E

I Don't Want to Talk - a03

Scully’s grief over losing Emily returns on a new case, and she turns to Mulder for unexpected comfort.

Rosemary's Baby Inspired / Words: 1,159 / Rating: M

What Lurks in the Forest - a03

Hikers are missing. Stories of an ancient being are whispered by the locals. Mulder drags Scully to the forest to investigate. Something strange is keeping them from the truth, but it only pushes them closer together.

The Ritual Inspired / Words: 8,285 / Rating: E

Darkened Skies - a03

Scully and Mulder help out Skinner when bird attacks derail his vacation to a seaside cottage. Everything changes after they are forced to take cover in a phone booth.

The Birds Inspired / Words: 1,719 / Rating: E

Viewing Experience - a03

Mulder and Scully have a scary movie night that inspires them to reveal their feelings. Basically, the ’90s version of “Netflix and Chill.”

The Exorcist Inspired / Words: 1,951 / Rating: T

These Dreams - a03

While unwinding at a bar, things get a little bit awkward, a little bit silly, and A LOT flirty when Mulder asks Scully about her dreams.

Nightmare on Elm Street Inspired / Words: 1,919 / Rating: M

These Dreams (Part 2) - a03

This is a follow-up to These Dreams. Now that Mulder and Scully have confessed their dirty, secret, and unprofessional dreams to each other, they set about making them come true.

Nightmare on Elm Street Inspired / Words: 1,655 / Rating: E

Talk to Me - a03

Scully and Mulder are broken up, but when feelings about William resurface, Mulder tries to comfort her in his own way. Takes place somewhere early in the revival, meaning there is angst.

Frankenstein Inspired / Words: 1,142 / Rating: E

Boyfriend - a03

Scully and Mulder might have recently crossed into a romantic relationship, but that doesn’t mean she wants to call him her boyfriend. However, when Mulder surprises her while babysitting her godson, it has Scully questioning her stance on labels.

Halloween Inspired / Words: 3,056 / Rating: M

The Finer Things - a03

Scully and Mulder are sent undercover onboard a luxury train to investigate the presence of a suspicious and undocumented train car. Playing a wealthy married couple is tricky, but they run into even bigger issues when an unwelcomed agent gets sent in for backup.

Horror Express Inspired / Words: 15,681 / Rating: E

Unprofessional - a03

Scully isn't happy when a case sends them to a New Orleans swamp. She's even less thrilled when a local tour guide gets the hots for Mulder and invites him to dinner.

Hatchet Inspired / Words: 1,876 / Rating: E

[spookyshipperfics]

Unprofessional

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Part of the Do You Like Scary Movies? series

Tagging @today-in-fic

What is it About? Scully isn't happy when a case sends them to a New Orleans swamp. She's even less thrilled when a local tour guide gets the hots for Mulder and invites him to dinner.

Read a Sample: A woman’s arm had been discovered on the outskirts of a campground. Scully suggested an alligator attack; Mulder rambled about folkloric legends. She ordered the nearby swamp to be dredged while Mulder sought the expertise of a local tour guide with a pretty face and a southern twang. Marybeth ran a haunted boat tour, and Scully suffered through eye-rolling tales. Somehow a man who haunted the swamps and killed anyone unlucky enough to enter his vague supernatural territory became their top suspect. When Marybeth mentioned an old, spooky cabin, Scully’s eyes narrowed. Mulder’s widened.

Mulder was her constant opposite. What fascinated him only annoyed her. What sent him barreling ahead had her gripping a crumbling surface. In some twisted way, it worked for them—or it usually did. Things got messy when someone else stepped into their universe, sending their tight, little world tipping on its axis. Scully watched Marybeth touch Mulder’s arm, fingers closing around his forearm as they hunched over a map. It was Dr. Berenbaum all over again. The laughing. The looks. Suddenly Bambi didn’t seem like such a ridiculous name.

“We should discuss this over dinner and drinks later,” Marybeth whispered to her partner. Scully stormed out before she heard Mulder’s response.

She hadn’t even wanted to come to Louisianna, never mind a New Orleans forest where trees gave way to algae-covered swamps, and reeds grew as tall as her disdain. Yet, she’d let Mulder drag her. Pull her. Verbally coerce with a boyish smile and puppy dog eyes.

She let it happen again after lunch. Her previous mistake repeated as he led her from the campground, where the trails were overgrown and wild.

“Marybeth says there is a cabin out this way, Scully.”

She could hardly suppress her eye roll, barely bit her tongue. Marybeth had gone home. These neglected trails were apparently no place for pretty tour guides. Scully marched ahead, her heels sinking into the marshy ground. She tried to ignore Mulder’s purposeful lagging the same way she attempted to quell the twisting sensation in her heart.

We should discuss this over dinner and drinks later.

The heat was oppressive. The smell was earthy. She couldn’t hear herself think over the unrelenting orchestra of cicadas. They weren’t dressed for this. Dry-cleaned slacks and silk blouses were laughably unsuitable. She whipped around to find Mulder, suit jack thrown across his shoulder and shirt unbuttoned too low. Scully felt as tight and taut as a rubber band. His pushed-up sleeves revealed toned forearms, and when she thought about Marybeth touching him there, she finally snapped.

“This is pointless, Mulder. We’re getting too far from the crime scene.” She pointed in the direction they’d come. Somewhere, not far, police officers were doing real work. Forensics was sweeping the area, yellow crime scene tape creating a boundary that did not account for supernatural meddling.

“You want to go back?”

Yes, she wanted to go back. She also wanted to scream. “If legend is to be believed, your ghost cabin is ten miles north of here.”

“But Marybeth said—”

Scully scoffed, couldn’t help it. “Mulder, that woman is either mistaken or misleading you.”

“Misleading me? For the purpose of what?”

“Maybe so she has something to discuss over dinner and drinks.” The ending of her sentence was sharp like a razor blade, intended to wound even if she had no real reason to draw blood. They were just partners. He owed her nothing. “What you do on your own time is no business of mine, but when you bring me into it, it becomes unprofessional.”

“This isn’t about Marybeth; this is about the case. So, I think it’s you who is mistaken.”

“Am I, Mulder?” She tossed her hands out to the side. “Because here I am, standing in the middle of some swamp looking for a ghost after watching you and Marybeth batting eyelashes at each other all morning. Like I said, it’s unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional,” he huffed. “You’re the one who’s been borderline rude since we got here.”

She’d been caught. Defeated. Her envy was on full display. Mulder grabbed her shoulder, rooting her in place before she could run.

“What’s going on?”

His arm dropped, but his voice was like a chain, his question a shackle. Her feet felt as heavy as her pounding heart.

“It’s nothing,” she insisted.

“Come on, Scully. What is it?”

His iron hold burnt her skin. The invisible chain between them clanged and rattled. She wanted to pull him closer but knew she couldn’t. The FBI forbade it. Her own stupid heart forbade it, too. “It’s nothing,” she repeated, this time louder.

“You’re lying.”

Suddenly, she hoped this ghost would appear, that he’d yank her into the water and far away from Mulder’s prying eyes. His gaze pierced her shell. It grated and tore at her cold exterior.

Her fists clenched in defiance as he took a step closer. “Why are you lying to me, Scully? What’s going on?”

“I’m jealous,” she practically yelled. Her cheeks burned, and her skin burst into flames. She couldn’t hold his stare any longer. It’s why she didn’t realize he’d approached until he was already there.

The tilt of her head was met by the crash of his mouth. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. And when he pulled back to gauge her reaction, she closed the distance. Her mouth found his again, her tongue making up for all the complicated, messy feelings she couldn’t say out loud.

Find the rest on a03

[spookyshipperfics]

The Finer Things (Case Fic Complete)

This fake/pretend relationship case fic topped off with some Diana angst is finally complete. I've neglected chapter updates on Tumblr, so here is my attempt to make up for that.

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Part of the Do You Like Scary Movies? series

Tagging @today-in-fic

What is it About? Scully and Mulder are sent undercover onboard a luxury train to investigate the presence of a suspicious and undocumented train car. Playing a wealthy married couple is tricky, but they run into even bigger issues when an unwelcomed agent gets sent in for backup.

Sample from Chapter 5: The cocktail car was exactly how she left it. Crowded and loud. Mulder was now by the bar, chatting to what looked like a young couple.

“Hey, Chrissy,” Mulder announced when he spotted her. “This is Brad and Mike. They’re headed to Vegas on their honeymoon.”

Scully nodded to the couple and gave her congratulations. One good look at her, and Mulder’s brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Of course.” His hand had already found hers and was leading her away. “I’ll catch up with you, fellas, later,” he called over his shoulder.

Scully scanned the room. There wasn’t really anywhere private to stand, which was probably why Mulder dragged her toward the designated dance area.

“I don’t dance,” she whined, even as her hands slipped over his shoulders and his found a home on her waist.

“We’ve danced before,” he countered. “Now, what’s wrong?”

She wanted to scream the name Diana, but their cover forced her to speak in riddles. “That woman… the new passenger we met—”

“Irina?”

She nodded. “I let her use our private bathroom.”

“That was nice of you.”

“Well, my niceness was rewarded with her jumping down my throat. She disagreed with the conclusion we reached last night, and she let me know.”

“I think she’s been drinking.”

She scoffed. “Why do you always make excuses for her?”

“I don’t always make excuses for her. I just met her.” He emphasized the last sentence to subtly remind her they were undercover in a packed room of people.

Scully took a step closer. “She’s rude.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it doesn’t mean as much coming from me, but she shouldn’t have confronted you like that.”

“I think she’s interested in you.” The statement came out before she could stop it.

“Too bad I’m married.”

Butterflies started in her stomach. Their wings were weighed down by envy and uncertainty. It was like Arcadia all over again. “She wants to sleep with you.” Scully tried to say it clear and detached, but the quiver of her lip betrayed her.

Mulder grabbed her chin, tilting her head until their eyes locked. “I’m not interested in her.”

“She’s your type… was your type.”

He scoffed, the hand on her face dropping back to her waist. “If you think I’m still interested in her, then you haven’t been paying attention.”

Her mind sifted through recent memories. The kiss that never happened in his hallway. Mulder’s love confession in a hospital room. His needy behavior on Christmas Eve. She’d wanted him for so long, and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that he wanted her the same way. That maybe Diana was the push she needed instead of the obstacle she initially saw her as.

“I wouldn’t know,” she responded. “We don’t usually talk about stuff like that.”

“Maybe we should start,” he challenged. “I meant what I said before. You look beautiful.” The statement was oozing with the same sincerity as earlier. Scully couldn’t help but drop her gaze.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment.

“It’s just so different than how I normally see you.”

She peered up. “Is that bad?”

“No. I wish I could see you like this more. Surrounded by the finer things in life. Dressed up. Dancing. Sitting across from me at fancy dinners.”

“I didn’t realize you liked those types of activities?”

“I like doing them with you.”

Her cheeks burned with the declaration. She took another step closer. There was no space between their bodies, and Mulder’s hands lowered on her waist, fingers hovering just above the curve of her butt. “That’s what certified besties are for,” she remarked.

He froze in place, their poor attempt at dancing coming to a sudden halt. “That’s the thing,” he said. “I don’t just want you as a best friend.”

Her heart pounded with anticipation. “How else do you want me then?”

“Like this,” he uttered as he leaned forward.

She knew a kiss was coming but still couldn’t prepare herself for how it felt. For the electric feeling of Mulder’s warm mouth on hers. For the way one of his hands threaded through her hair and tugged her impossibly closer. This was what she wanted to do in Arcadia. Hell, this was what she wanted to do since she’d shook his hand six years ago. The arousal between her legs was proof.

She reluctantly pulled back only because what she desired to do next couldn’t take place in the middle of the cocktail car. “I’m suddenly feeling like going back to the room.”

Mulder’s lips quirked into a smile. “Funny you say that. I was just thinking the same thing,” he said as he interlaced his fingers with hers.

Find the rest on a03

[spookyshipperfics]

scully meeting mulder like “okay i am NOT gonna fuck my teacher this time” vs mulder meeting scully like “don’t trust the spy….don’t trust the spy…..”

[10 minutes later she’s naked in his motel room, he is telling her every secret that he knows]

lol, what kind of greek tragedy is this

[spookyshipperfics]

The Finer Things (Chapter 1)

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Part of the Do You Like Scary Movies? series

Tagging @today-in-fic

What is it About? Scully and Mulder are sent undercover onboard a luxury train to investigate the presence of a suspicious and undocumented train car. Playing a wealthy married couple is tricky, but they run into even bigger issues when an unwelcomed agent gets sent in for backup.

Read a Sample: You’ll want to pack predominantly dressy casual, but formal wear will also be required.

Skinner’s advice still bounced around Mulder’s skull. What did dressy casual even mean? For a man who wore a suit and tie nearly every day, he worried the slacks and collared shirts shoved in his suitcase weren’t up to code. The rental car suddenly felt hot, and he cracked the window.

Mulder had been told a lot over the last two days. He and Scully would be riding the Dusty Mountaineer, a train that twisted and wound through the Rocky Mountains of Colorado before opening to the deserts of Utah and, finally, Nevada. It was five days of luxury meets majesty, or at least that’s what the brochure promised. And while that all sounded fine and dandy, they weren’t going for leisure.

The Dusty Mountaineer’s last few trips had included a mysterious train car unaccounted for in any brochures or official travel documents. The FBI suspected some sort of smuggling operation—firearms, drugs, chemicals—but whispers of strange creatures being transported to a testing site in Nevada warranted a knock on the Spookys’ basement door. After all, Mulder had recklessly jumped onto a train only a few years ago for similar reasons.

This train ride would be different, though. For starters, he and Scully would be going undercover as a married couple… again. Goodbye, Rob and Laura Petrie. Hello, Pete and Chrissy Curtis. Who would’ve thought that with all this chaos, the contents of his wardrobe would be what broke him?

“Scully,” he said, glancing at her in the passenger’s seat, where she leafed through documents containing information about their cover stories. “What do you consider dressy casual?”

He didn’t need to look at her to know she rolled her eyes. The sigh of annoyance confirmed it. “Mulder, if the items you brought are anything like what you’re wearing now, you’ll be just fine.”

His shoulders relaxed in his sports coat. He felt considerably better about the fitted white T-shirt and khakis beneath it. “You think?”

“I do,” she responded dryly, and Mulder couldn’t help but sneak another peek at her. Outfitted in a light blue dress that was much more form-fitting than anything he’d ever seen her in, it was difficult to bring his attention back to the road. He did, though, trying to ignore the memory of her smooth thighs peaking from beneath the fabric.

“What do you do for work?” Scully’s voice drifted into his ear, jolting him back to reality.

“What?”

“What do you do for work?” she repeated.

The fluttering papers in her hand reminded him why they were here in Colorado. He had more important things to worry about than how soft Scully’s thighs looked. He was a goddamn FBI agent about to go undercover for five days. Maybe that’s what was really making him nervous. It wasn’t the definition of dressy casual; it was pretending to be married to Scully. It had been easier in Arcadia. He hadn’t really known what to expect. He didn’t realize how much he’d enjoy touching her or calling her pet names.

“Well, dear,” he began, “I’m a community college professor specializing in conspiracy literature and theories, but I also teach history because that’s what pays the bills.”

“Good,” she remarked.

Deciding to go for the extra credit, he continued, “You teach pre-med at the same college. That’s, of course, how we met. What was it now? Seven years ago?”

“Six,” she corrected. “Just like in real life.”

“I know. I know,” Mulder assured her. He knew exactly how long ago they’d met. Scully had changed his life when she’d walked through his basement door. Something like that you didn’t forget. “I’m thinking of making that part of my schtick. You know, the whole forgetful husband trope. I’m bad with anniversary dates. I forget to pick up milk on the way home.”

“That tracks,” she said, and this time, he could hear the smile in her voice. “Birthdays aren’t a strong suit of yours, either.”

“Not a strong suit of Pete Curtis,” he countered. “I want to be clear that this is strictly a character choice.”

Any snarky rebuttal Scully might have tossed back at him was left unsaid. Instead, she let out an excited “wow.” After rounding the last bend, the Dusty Mountaineer came into view. The fifteen-car train was a shiny black and decorated with elaborate gold accents and lettering.

“It looks like something out of an Agatha Christie novel,” Scully remarked.

Mulder nodded. “Let’s just hope this story doesn’t play out like one of hers. I could do with a little less murder.”

The Dusty Mountaineer’s narrow hallways were wood paneled, the floors a floral carpet. It was a bit like stepping into a time capsule. There were no TVs or other technological entertainment, and even the staff were outfitted in clothes of a different era.

“Dinner is served at six. Our dress code requires passengers to dress appropriately when not in their rooms. Formal attire is required for the cocktail party on Friday night.” Jamie, the crew member assigned to walk them to their lodging, continued rattling off rules and detailing the agenda before stopping at a cabin on the far end of the first sleeper car. “This is you, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis.”

Despite everything Mulder had seen thus far, he still wasn’t quite prepared when Jamie pulled open the door. His eyes swept across the cabin and widened. The wood paneling continued inside their room, which contained a full-sized bed, a small table for two, and a sofa. Cubbies and hidden closets allowed for tidy storage. A shelf holding complimentary champagne and glasses hovered above the table.

It was a far cry from the derelict accommodations they were used to. The Bureau had splurged only because people thinking they had money could work in their favor. If the stupid rich couple was caught in an area of the train they shouldn’t be, they could chalk it up to entitlement. Money clogging their brains.

Still, being allowed to even exist in this old-timey glamour sent a secret thrill up Mulder’s spine. He automatically reached for Scully’s hand. The need to conceal the action as part of their cover had him practically shouting over Jamie, who had barely finished explaining how to convert the sofa into a cot. “This is great, isn’t it, honey?”

“It’s beautiful,” Scully responded, and he could tell by the way her eyes glistened that she meant it.

Running on a diet of caffeine and adrenaline, they took advantage of the three-course dinner and complimentary champagne. Upon returning to their cabin, Mulder offered Scully the en suite bathroom first. He took the opportunity to change into sweatpants and a T-shirt.

Scully emerged in silk pajamas a few minutes later, a cloud of minty toothpaste and something floral—lotion maybe—trailing behind her. Mulder followed her gaze to the far end of the cabin, where the full-sized bed loomed. He realized then that this wasn’t like Arcadia at all. There was no downstairs couch to retreat to at night.

Find the rest on a03

[spookyshipperfics]

Wear a Skirt

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Tagging @today-in-fic

What is it About? It’s not always easy for Scully to communicate her desires, but Mulder has an unorthodox way of changing that.

“He hadn’t wanted to break her; he wanted to build her up. He desired to see her wild and feral, to lead with lust instead of logic for once in her damn life. And he’d succeeded.”

Read a Sample: Light streamed through the window of her apartment’s sheer curtains. They were still a tangle of limbs. Bodies pressed together so close a thin sweat coated their skin. One look at Mulder and his midnight demand circled her mind.

Don’t be timid with me, Scully. I always want to hear you.

Even now, her cheeks warmed from the thought. At work, she slashed his theories with sharp words and even sharper glares. Arguing science was easy, detailing her intimate desires was not. Her confidence often evaporated when they were wrapped in cotton sheets instead of case files and distractions. Mulder said and did every dirty thing on his mind while she clung to silence. Men were freer in this world, even if she hated to admit it.

Mulder’s kiss was meant to be a chaste good morning hello, but his lips turned the small flame into an inferno. A fire he was more than willing to feed by running a hand across her breasts and then down, down, down until it settled between her legs.

His touch was electric. The sparks fueled by years of quick handholds and longing gazes. His fingers swirled around her clit with such precision it didn’t take long for her to feel the deep, delectable pressure of climax.

“Yes, just like that,” she uttered. Mulder’s fingers moved quicker, worked harder. She was so close. Her orgasm was about to unleash, and he then stopped. He was already standing before her brain processed that he was gone.

“Mulder, what… what the hell are you doing?”

He pulled on pants as he grinned. His toned chest and bed-tousled hair were a mockery to her yearning. Her swollen clit throbbed at the sight of him, and she had the urge to smack that little smirk off his face.

“I’m getting ready for work. We are going to be late.”

“But…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say. Once again, her own prudish embarrassment kept the rest of the sentence shoved deep in her chest. But you didn’t make me come. Why did you stop? “Since when do you care about being late?”

His eyes moved across her body, leaving heat in their path. She realized then what she must look like to him. Crazy hair. Flush cheeks. Eyes stained with desire. She pulled the sheet around her as he approached like armor. He hinged forward and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll see you at the office,” he promised. At the bedroom door, he turned back to add, “Wear a skirt.”

*

“Morning, Scully.”

Mulder was the epitome of the expression working hard or hardly working. Reclined in the office chair, the only thing he was working hard at was twirling a pencil in his hands.

“Good morning,” she replied from the doorway, a tinge of aggravation in her voice.

They were back to playing their roles. In these four walls, they were just Agents Scully and Mulder. They would ignore the fact they woke up in the same bed together. That the hands playing with that pencil were the same ones that brought her to the precipice of orgasm before leaving her high and dry.

“We’ve got a meeting with Skinner in ten.” His voice came out in the same low monotone it always did, but the way his eyes traveled her body wasn’t lost on her. “You look nice,” he added, gaze now glued to the skirt she’d slipped on this morning with his demand ringing in her ears.

Wear a skirt.

She hadn’t asked questions, hadn’t snapped back. Now, she fought the urge to smooth the material under his stare. It was dark and penetrating, turning her insides to something soft and gooey.

Mulder stopped twirling the pencil, placing it to the side of the desk where he was also stacking scattered papers. “Get the door and come here.”

“Mulder?” She could feel her eyebrow twitch.

“Get the door,” he repeated.

She hesitated a moment. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but he was still moving things to one side of his desk. Spontaneous organizing wasn’t his style, and Scully had half a mind to call him on it. Still, she shut the door. He intercepted her when she turned around, carrying her to the now-empty spot on the desk.

“Mulder!” she gasped, but his lips stole any further exclamations from her throat.

His hands were on her waist, tugging at her skirt and bunching the fabric.

“Lie back, Scully,” he muttered against her mouth. Maybe it was the climax he’d stolen from her this morning. Maybe it was because she was already wet from the whole unexpectedness of it all. Either way, she was obeying to her own disbelief.

As soon as her back touched the wooden surface, he swooped between her thighs. He didn’t bother removing her underwear, just yanked it to the side. His tongue slid over her clit, tracing patterns that made her head spin.

She tossed an arm across her mouth to keep from whimpering. Her gaze fell to the door—the one she’d shut but hadn’t locked. Somebody could walk through it at any second. Skinner deciding he needed to talk to them earlier. A courier dropping off a package. Erin from finance asking about something surely uncalled for on their expense report.

The idea made her heart pound and her veins swirl with excitement and fear. Surely, whoever dared wander to the basement would knock first. They wouldn’t just barge in, even though some tiny, deep, dark place inside her wanted them to. What a sight they’d get. Mulder’s head between her legs, half-buried underneath her skirt.

The fantasy had her head floating, her clit throbbing. Mulder wasn’t even using his fingers, just his magnificent tongue. Another swipe. Another suck. She was right there. So close. She was about to—

Mulder pulled back and rose from whatever joint-aching crouch he must have been in. She scrambled onto her elbows to see him straightening his tie and wiping his mouth.

“Mulder, what the hell are you doing?” It was an echo of her inquiry in bed earlier, only this time it was laced with frustration. She felt like she was shouting. Was she shouting?

“We’ve got a meeting with Skinner,” he said with such nonchalance it made her teeth clench. “Don’t want to be late.”

“What’s with you and being late today?” she demanded, realizing now that she was, in fact, shouting. Still half-reclined on the desk with her skirt askew, she practically jumped to a stand.

“I just want to be punctual, Scully.” That devilish smirk appeared on his perfect lips again. He knew exactly what he was doing to her—and he was fucking enjoying it.

Read the rest on ao3.

[spookyshipperfics]

what she says: i’m fine

what she means: chris carter has even said that the x-files was really scully’s story, not mulder’s. the pilot episode opens with scully, a young fbi agent, being assigned to the x-files in order to debunk the work of fox mulder — we are to assume because of her background in “hard science”, and when we first meet her she’s a 29-year-old phd/md with a specialization in forensics, who has been through the fbi academy, and considering how much she’d achieved before the age of 30, you have to kind of wonder: why didn’t she get a better offer than debunking the x-files? why did the fbi pick her to work with mulder when the fbi could have really gotten their money’s worth by using her in a more serious capacity? was it because she was a woman? did they think mulder would be more likely to cave if he was partnered with a woman? did they think that she was too smart for her own good — or not smart enough? what did the fbi see — or fail to see — in scully that landed her in fox mulder’s basement office? if the fbi had really appreciated, or understood, just how brilliant and capable scully was, why would they have ever knowingly partnered her with mulder? it seems like they completely underestimated her, because she went on to become not just mulder’s greatest ally, but an enormous threat to those the fbi thought she would blindly protect. scully’s story began the way many a woman’s has: not being taken seriously by powerful men, while at the same time being expected to serve the goals and interests of those men. scully’s story, ultimately, is not about a young fbi agent who stumbles into a government conspiracy-laden basement and falls in love with her spaceship-chasing partner. it’s about a woman who spent her entire life trying to prove herself, and when she finally did, she was so powerful that it didn’t protect her — it endangered her. scully’s story is the story of all women who have to fight to prove that they are strong, and when they do, people just wait for them to be broken by their own strength. the threats against scully were often overt and specific, but not always. in so many ways the more subtle and pernicious attacks on scully’s sense of self, of her perception of truth, the shaking of her foundation of justice, were the real threats all along. the cat-and-mouse game between mulder & scully and the government was always this: they wanted to make sure mulder stopped asking questions and ensure that scully was always questioning. what they really wanted her to do, constantly, was question her own perceptions and undermine her own beliefs. from the beginning of the x-files to the most recent iteration, the only thing that ever really stood between scully and the truth was herself.