sarie-fairy:

Here’s me onAO3

~NEW~

PARKED CARS~ on AO3
Written for the smut exchange, Scully and Mulder on stakes outs, through the years. 
Tags: Smut Exchange, NSFW, masturbation, oral sex, sex, UST to RST, love and comfort.
Rating:Explicit;Words:17937

SKAMANIA COUNTY ~ on AO3
After a gruelling case, Mulder invites Scully to join him for a nice walk in the forest. Some downtime in nature, together. Scully discovers Mulder has another reason for being there; something all too familiar. As they go deeper into the woods, they delve deeper into some of the bigger questions of the unknown. When an incident and a snowstorm leaves one of them in a life-threatening situation, they are both forced to confront their feelings for one another.
Tags: MSR, hurt/comfort, bed sharing, medical procedure, UST
Rating:Mature;Words:10138

CALCULATED RISK ~ on AO3
There was something Scully had wanted to ask Mulder for months. Would alcohol loosen her tongue enough for her to ask? And how would he respond?
Tags:drunk talk, angst, UST, drunk sex, RST, MSR, smut, set early season 7
Rating:Explicit;Words:11110

Keep reading

Stage 5

My entry into The X-Files Fake Relationship exchange @xfilesfanficexchange, for @gaycrouton

Link to Chp 1, Chp 2,Chp 3

Read on AO3

Rating: mature

Summary: Mulder has gotten himself into a real pickle this time. And what does that mean? That Scully is deep in the pickle with him. Our two favorite FBI agents are stuck in an airport due to a snowstorm, on their way back to DC after a case and Mulder bumps into someone from his past. Someone he might have told a tiny lie to. Will Scully help him keep up the ruse?

~~

Chapter 4

Tiffany serves everyone their drink of choice, placing them on coasters on the low table. The glass of white wine, beading condensation in her manicured hand, kept for herself. She takes a sip, closing her eyes. “Oh, that hits the spot.” Swiping the corners of her mouth with a finger, she collects a few stray smudges of lipstick. “We shouldn’t be having these,” she confesses in a hushed voice, glancing at Brendan. “We could get a page any minute.” 

“Well, you only live once, am I right?” Brendan replies, picking up his beverage and downing almost half of it.

Scully and Mulder collect their tumblers, other hands still connected, and join in the drinking.

.

“So, I didn’t ask. What brings you here at this godforsaken time of year? A case?” Tiffany queries. 

Mulder clears his throat, Scully watching him. “Crime scene,” he answers quickly. “We, we… well, I had to pick up a body, actually. To take back so, um, someone can perform an autopsy on it.” He turns his face toward Scully, though his eyes flick quickly away, back to Tiffany.

“You a cop too?” Brendan asks. 

“Ah no,” Scully replies. “Photographer. Weddings.”

“Oh. Was there a wedding on here too?” Brendan asks, clearly a little confused, most likely because it’s a weekday.

“No. I just like to tag along, to be with him whenever I can.” Scully curls her arm around Mulder’s, feeling her cheeks pink over the hopelessly devoted treacle spilling from her lips. “And he’s FBI,” she says emphatically. “Brilliant at his job,” she adds, returning her glass to the table to rub her palm up and down his bicep. Mulder reacts, flinches at first, and then leans into her touch, Scully turning to look at him. He regards her too. Sucks his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before releasing it, moist and plump. Looking at her as he does it, up so, so close. She can feel her pulse in her throat, which is bone dry, and she finds it hard to swallow. Has to look away. Thankfully Brendan speaks.

“Oh, look at you, all proud of your man,” he coos.

Scully paints on a broad smile, releasing Mulder’s arm and patting his thigh. 

“Thanks, Honey,” Mulder adds, quickly placing a peck on her cheek.

A reflex, Scully places her fingers over the place he kissed, then finds his eyes again. “Anytime, Babe,” she says.

Babe. It had been so cringy when Charlie’s girlfriend used to say it. But now, saying to Mulder? Hmmm. Perhaps it’s the look he’s giving her in reply. A tiny smirk and that twinkle in his eye he gets, whenever something fascinates him. 

.

Regardless of their terms of endearment back and forth, Scully feels awkward. Once, she had one line in her eighth-grade play—the sum total of her acting career to date—and the physiological effect of standing in front of the whole school auditorium and pretending to be someone else, reciting those nine words, was nigh on debilitating. Reminiscent of how she feels right now. Over the top, out of her body, free falling.

But, she can do this, she tells herself. Pushes on for Mulder. 

.

“I sure am,” she affirms, folding her palm over his toned quad and squeezing. 

She can’t help but feel silly. Knows that if she and Mulder actually were a couple, this is not how she would behave. Though she does agree with the sentiment, he is brilliant, and she is proud of him. 

One thing she begins to realize, though, is that it doesn’t feel strange touching him. No, it doesn’t. Not. At. All. Quite the opposite. A drink and a half in, and she lets herself indulge, enjoying her temporary permission to hold him. Lifting her arm, she stretches it around his shoulders, as far as she can reach. Embraces him, and his scent engulfs her. Intoxicating—his familiar cologne, sweet fresh sweat—heady and exhilarating. 

.

“So, are you both working the same flight tonight?” Mulder directs at Tiffany and Brendan as he slouches his hips down the couch cushion, lowering his body, resulting in Scully’s arm draping more snugly around him. 

“Yeah,” Tiffany pipes up, beginning to smile. “Heading to Honolulu. I can’t wait. We have three days off there.” She looks across at Brendan and reaches out, and grabs his arm. “So looking forward to getting away from this diabolical cold.”

“It’ll be hella fabulous. And warm,” Brendan adds, clapping his hands excitedly. 

“Plus, you know Tiff wrote a book?” 

“Ah, yeah,” Mulder replies.

“Well, Brendan’s been writing ideas for one of his own,” Tiffany says, taking over. “So, we’re going to use the time to workshop it.”

“So excited!” Brendan says, clapping again.

“What’s it about?” Scully queries.

“Well, I was thinking of writing about the mile-high club,” Brendan explains, with a glint in his eye. “But then I realized that might be just one chapter in a bigger book. So, now it’ll be a group of anecdotes from my time as a steward. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Ooo, maybe that could somehow be incorporated into the name?” he says, turning to Tiffany, who nods.

“Give us a mile high story,” Mulder prompts as a shiver runs up his spine. A reaction to the sensation of Scully playing with his collar, her fingers slipping underneath it and brushing against his bare flesh.

“Oh, okay,” Brendan starts, shifting forward in his seat, his face cracking into a cheeky grin. “I once found two people literally stuck together.” 

Tiffany laughs, and Mulder can’t help joining in.

“The guy threw his back out,” Brendan continues, “mid-thrust.” 

Scully laughs then, too—Mulder feels her body reverberate alongside him, and it does something to him, somewhere deep and hidden. It lights a fire, that laugh. That seldom heard laugh with the power of a thousand suns. Mulder wishes that there weren’t two witnesses opposite them, so he might sit and indulge in her loveliness. Bask in Scully, raw and real. He swallows a breath to simmer down, focusing on Brendan’s story again. Perhaps not the best subject matter when trying to extinguish arousal, though.

“And Tiff had to get me to help, like, pull him back, like out of his girlfriend, so she could maneuver her foot off the sink.”

“God, it was hilarious.”

They’re all laughing now, and Mulder grins as he watches Scully enjoy the moment. 

“So, are you members?” Scully pipes up, to Mulder’s surprise.

“Of the club?” Tiffany clarifies, and Scully nods. “Well, yeah. I mean, it wasn’t in the toilets, but I think it still counts.”

“Spill,” Brendan prods.

“Cockpit. With the pilot. No pun intended.”

“Simon?”

Tiffany nods in confirmation, a little something more behind her eyes.

“Oh shit! Cockpit. Argh! Is he the one in your book whose penis … goes like this?” Brendan almost screams, hooking his index finger into a curve in demonstration.”

“I’ll never tell,“ Tiffany smirks, though she nods in affirmation.

“Fuck me, I’m not going to rest until I know the secret identity of every man in that book, Tiff. You know that, right?” Brendan laughs.

“What about you?” Scully asks, grinning at Brendan.

“No,” he says decidedly and then adds, “unless a handjob from a coworker counts.”

They all laugh. 

“Who?” Tiffany presses, eyes wide.

“Michael.”

“Really?” Tiffany drawls, clearly titillated.  

Brendan mimes locking his lips and throwing away the key, and Tiffany copies him with a nod.

“And have you two?” Brendan invites, directing his attention to Mulder and Scully.

They both turn toward one another, share a look, and Mulder can’t help picturing it. With her. An erotic image of fucking Scully from behind in a cramped airplane bathroom, her hooded eyes looking back at him in the mirror, flashes across his mind. A surge of lust pulses through him, and he sees her cheeks flush, sure then that she must be picturing something similar.

“No,” he says, then adds, “maybe someday,” never losing her gaze. 

He feels her inhale beside him. Her whole body quiver.

“I mean, I have,” Scully says, biting on her bottom lip, sucking it between her lips, and looking at Mulder in a way that he knows she’s telling the truth. He has questions.

“Oh, oh, oh,’ Brendan sounds. “Obviously not with Fox!”

“Not yet,” Scully adds, and Mulder feels himself swell in his pants. His body not conceiving this is make-believe and responding to the word yet.

“I did not know that,” Mulder says, truly astonished, eyeing her and shaking his head. 

“Damn, girl!” Brendan almost screams. “Details.”

“Yes, details,” Mulder echoes, including Brendan’s inflection.

“All I’ll say is that, as much as Mulder sometimes teases me about my lack of stature, it sure came in handy,” she finished by suggestively swiping her tongue at the corner of her mouth.

“Whoa, girl!” Brendan hoots, clapping, and he and Tiffany laugh, Scully, looking pleased with herself as Mulder fears his zipper might burst open.  

.

Their shared laughter disappears into their glasses as they sip and settle down. The crowd around them is loud, swallowing the raucous sounds. 

At this point, Scully is absently running her fingers through the scrap of hair at the nape of Mulder’s neck, and she can feel him leaning into her. An almost undetectable noise escapes as a low sound in his throat. Pleasure, she decerns. It thunders through her, initiating an involuntary physical response. Nipples tighten, alive to the feel of the delicate lace of her bra as her breath heaves—the side of her breast crushed against Mulder’s firm bicep. The tight seam of her new jeans presses up against her, most intimately. Tilting her pelvis just so, she grinds the rigid denim against the aching throb between her legs, seeking momentary relief.

“So, what other stories will be in the book?” Mulder asks, returning his glass to the coaster and then collecting Scully’s hand in his. He begins rubbing his thumb over her skin, electricity radiating from where they touch.

“So, there will be a chapter about the assholes. Maybe two chapters.”

“Or three,” Tiff adds, with a chuckle.

“Right? Anyway, this one guy I was helping with was in the middle of a full-on medical emergency. A doctor was working on him. Like, he would have fully died had that doctor not been on the flight. And he was laid out in the middle of the aisle, and I was running to them with the defib when the passenger, who was had the seat next to the poor guy, flags me over. I’m thinking—they know him or have important info, but they ask me to get them a diet coke!”

“Oh, that’s fucked up,” Mulder injects.

“Ah huh,” Tiffany adds. “You would not believe the shit we see.”

"Unbelievable,” Mulder confirms.

"I know! But, for all the bad stories, there are good ones too,” she says.

“Like what?” Scully asks.

“I have one,” Brendan starts. “There was this fraught mother, baby howling. You’ll get it when you have kids,” he adds, looking at Scully, and she feels something drop in her stomach. Just a small weight, depositing there. 

“Mostly, passengers do not want to be seated next to babies. Anywhere near babies,” Tiffany interjects.

“Well, the kid just would not stop crying. And I see this older woman. She looks kind of severe—scary, really—and I see her heading over to the mom and baby, and I am just waiting for her to go off, right?”

Scully nods along, sure she detects Mulder’s grip on her hand grow a little tighter. 

“So, she surprises me and the mom and offers to take the baby.” Both Tiffany and Brendan share looks of delight at the recalled gesture, then Brendan continues. “And then she tells the mom she’s doing a great job. So, she picks up the little thing, bounces it, and takes it back to her seat, and it quiets down and eventually goes to sleep. And this mom was so, so grateful. It was really beautiful, actually.” Brendan says sincerely. 

“That’s a nice ending, but babies on flights make for a hard shift,” Tiffany tells them with a laugh and a shake of her head. “After being an air hostess, I’m not sure if I want kids.”

“I hear you,” Brendan agrees.

“You want them?” Tiffany directs at Scully as she drains the last of her drink.

Scully feels herself get hot. Her hand suddenly sticky and constricted in Mulder’s. She hasn’t been asked this question before, but the answer is there, raw and devastating, under a very thin layer of skin, encapsulating her always. 

Mulder raises her hand to his lips and kisses it, looking across at her. He tethers her, a calm sea from a tempest, with those hazel eyes, and she replies.

“I do,” she says simply. The truth.

~~

To be continued…

Thank you for reading.

Please always feel free to reblog my stuff.

Thank you @today-in-fic 

Here’s a link to my Master File and me on AO3