moine: txf

apparently I get dark when I'm drunk not necessary illegible to

This is MSR and Mulder gets blown during ice. And Scully is kinky. One of your words was habit right? Warning for like dark sexy thoughts This is the FIC

***

Here is something he does not know about her and will not be allowed to remember for several years: fear turns her on. What a horrible habit for her to fall into, given her career choice. What an unfortunate vice, given her taste in movies. She gets wet every time she watches “The Evil Dead” and she can’t be sure the cause is only Bruce Campbell.

But he comes to know it, for a moment, only briefly on the ice. You might not be who you are. She’ll let him think that, that this isn’t her, when the tension leaves, when the fear has passed. But she is who she is, and she is Dana Katherine Scully, shucked in flannel, knees grinding hard on the cool cement.

Only a fraction of it could be blamed on the way he grabbed her, spun her around to inspect her neck. He’d been so angry… why didn’t you trust me, Scully. It’s been me this entire time, Scully. You sequestered yourself with certain death, Scully… Dana, now, her leaning forward forward to suck him to the hilt.

“Dana,” he groans, and she hopes they hear it. The other scientists. The ones that think they know better than her, that Mulder could have killed that man. She pulls back to look up at him, lips suckling at his heated flesh, and he’s staring at her with such adoration it makes her nervous. Oh, hell. She laps innocently at the tip of his cock, lets him see her fingers disappear into her panties. His head falls back and it stops being so serious. Thank god.

His gun, pointed right at her head. He probably hadn’t meant to aim so expertly but she’s so little he forgets sometimes. She rides her fingers a little hardeer, wishes she had had the foresight to bring a condom. But it seems like he’s too close to coming anyway, with how he’s whimpering and pumping his hips.

“You’re so big,” she tells him, stroking him with her fist over the flat of her tongue. He is big but that’s not why she says it, she just kind of wants to know if he’ll get off from being told that, if he’s that kind of man. It’ll tell her a lot about him. Sure enough, he cries out what the fuck, Scully, and begs her to put her mouth back on him. He’s so gentle about it, keeping his hands away from the back of her head, that suddenly she knows for certain he’s not infected. She feels inordinately proud of her scientific proweress.

Mulder, pressed lithely along her tense back while she cuts the worm out of a dying Bear. The timber of his voice as he yells at her like she’s beytraued him. Dr. Da Silvia’s thankful face and her brown nipples, her eyes slipping shut and her head back in relief, the tender column of her throat exposed. Them, all of them, being out here in the ice with no where to go, no hope for rescue. Death, betrayal, fear. Her thumb strokes over her clit, Mulder’s seed spills hot in her mouth; she thinks of him,how he’s probably thinking of her, and that fear runs so hot and deep she comes hard, moaning around his dick and fucking herself raw.

You may not be who you are.

  • Mulder: You know that manslaughter is the least serious murder charge?
  • Scully: You don't say.
  • Mulder: Manslaughter. Literally, the slaughter of a man. Sounds brutal, doesn't it?
  • Scully: Heinous.
  • Mulder: Yet it's the most socially acceptable form of murder.
  • Scully: So you think we should change the name.
  • Mulder: Yes, I do. How about "inadvertent life-ending"?
  • Scully: "Unintentional snuff-out".
  • Mulder: How about "I can't believe it's not murder"?