guitargirl48:

So, a couple of weeks ago, @allyinthekeyofx posted this fic I wrote on anon for me.  Thank you, Ally.    I was too chicken to do it myself.  After speaking to @piecesofscully and her beta I did a re-write of it and love it more. Thank you, @piecesofscully I shall not be a chicken this time.  So here is my “FIRST FIC” in all its glory.  I hope you like it. Post FTF and NSFW NC-17

I have had feelings for him for as long as I can remember.  Probably from our very first case together in Bellefleur, Oregon.  His trustworthiness. His undying search to find the truth.  The fact that I know he loves me and would go to the ends of the earth to save me.

I know how to compartmentalize those, though. Lately, it seems that my walls are falling of their own volition and I can’t control the impulses. The dreams I have of him and me together.  Him Holding my face and kissing me with so much passion my knees start to buckle.  Or of us lying in bed, naked, holding each other tightly after making passionate love for hours. Fantasies of us every time I close my eyes, of me and him naked and doing very naughty, yet wonderful things to each other. I’ve had fantasies before about men, never, though, to the likes of my fantasies for him. It was that damn almost kiss. I know that had to have been the beginning of the crumbling of my walls.

Even though my memory is hazy, and I’m unable to remember everything that happened later that night. I do remember the words he said to me.

“You kept me honest,” “I can’t do this without you,” “You make me a whole person.”

With each word that escaped his perfectly pouty lips, I could feel the walls I had spent so many years building, brick by brick, slowly disintegrating.  The feel of his hands on my face, his smell so intoxicating that it sent shivers over every part of my being.  Our almost kiss.

That fucking bee.

Since Antarctica, we’ve not spoken of our almost kiss, or of the words he confessed to me that night. I don’t know if it’s because he is scared I don’t feel the same as he does.  Or if it doesn’t work out, will it be the end of our partnership? He really doesn’t know that even though I feel all those things too, I love him with every fiber of my being.  I am his for as long as he will have me.

I’m just so tired of waiting.

I’m going to go to him now and make him see that I feel absolutely the same as he does. That “almost” is over. Lines have almost been crossed, and after tonight they will be forever broken. I finally realize more is better, more is life. I cannot live with “almost” anymore.

I feel excited and terrified all at once as I drive to his apartment. As I ride the elevator to the 4^th floor I can feel it coming, I am about to chicken out.

NO, not this time dammit, I tell myself as the doors open, and I walk down his empty hallway. Get a hold of yourself, Dana.  Knock on the damn door

More is better, I have to keep repeating it over and over in my mind. I feel as if I am having an out of body experience. My hand is knocking, yet I can’t feel the door against my knuckles.

There are muffled footsteps approaching the door, and then I hear Mulder asking, “Who is it?” and hear myself replying, “Mulder, it’s me.”

The door opens, he is there.  Breathtaking.  I feel the tears start to form, I try to stop them. Unsuccessfully.  I vaguely hear him say, “Scully, are you ok?” His hand pulls me into the room and he surrounds me with his body in an intense hug.

I am lost.

I bring my arms around him, squeezing tighter, and hear myself saying the words, “Almost is not enough, Mulder.  More is better, more is life.”

He grabs my shoulders pulling away from me to look into my tear sodden eyes, and I see the confusion in his.  Without another second passing, I grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly in my fists. Wordlessly, I try to express to him that I want him, tell him that I love him.

I allow my hands to move from his shirt to the back of his neck, pulling him down to me, never letting our gaze break. Our lips are so close now and all I can say is, “More is better, Mulder. Almost will never be enough.”

And then it happens.  Our lips touch.  Slowly at first, barely touching but touching still the same. I open my mouth and let my tongue slowly slip across his bottom lip, he gasps and deepens the kiss.  Though his hands haven’t moved from my lower back, I can feel the burn of him all over me.  Our tongues dance in harmony with one another like we’ve done this a thousand times.

I feel my body flush red from the heat that is coursing through me.  I slowly lower my hands to the bottom of his shirt, raising it up as he breaks the kiss to allow it to slide over his arms and head.  I pull him to me again and run my fingers through the beautiful hair on his chest.

My God, why have I deprived myself of this pleasure for so long?

He starts to unbutton my blouse, slowly at first, but as my hands travel down his chest and glide over his hard erection he speeds up the process. He nearly rips the buttons from their stitching and then my blouse sliding to the floor like a feather in the wind. I undo the button on his jeans and slowly ease the zipper down, my hand reaching into his boxers to feel the silken length of his cock. It twitches beneath my fingers as I stroll all the way to the base and grab him, and begin to slowly stroke him up and down.  His hand finds my left breast, toying with my nipple while using the other to unsnap my bra, allowing it to fall to the floor.

I knew he would be a pro at this.

He pulls me further into his apartment and sits on the couch, I straddle him, pushing my breasts into his face. He knows what to do, where to touch me, and I am on fire, melting into him. Knowing that he is turning me on to no end, I am grinding into his ever hardening cock and I elicit a long growling moan from him. With a sudden rush our hands everywhere, caressing each other, familiarizing ourselves with touch.

Before I know what is happening I am being lifted to stand before him as he slides off my pants. I don’t remember him undoing my button or zipper.  My lace panties are sodden with my own arousal.  He hooks his thumbs over the band of them and lets them slowly slip to the floor to meet my pants.

His hands start north again sliding them over my legs, not missing the arousing spot behind my knee, and I moan.  He is quickly learning as he goes, his Eidetic memory no doubt filing all of my spots away for later use.  He leans forward and his face is at my center, I am dripping and he hasn’t even touched me there yet.

“Oh God, Scully.  You smell so good,” I hear him say and I moan again.

I feel his hands reach my center at the same time his tongue reaches my clit and I am reeling, groaning loudly, “Yes, Mulder.”  His fingers slide through my folds and find me so wet and he just keeps saying, “My god Scully, my god Scully.”

I groan as I feel one finger enter me and then another.  I am grinding into them as he flicks his tongue against my clit.  I am so close, so close.

“Mulder, I want you inside of me.  I need you inside of me.”

He slowly pulls his fingers out of me and licks his way down to where he just removed them. “You taste so good, Scully.”

“Make love to me, Mulder.”

He stands and grabs my hand leading me to his bedroom.  I didn’t know he even owned a bed.

I stand before him reaching for his pants and boxers and slide them off all at once.  Then he is backing me up towards the bed, laying me down and taking his place right beside me. He looks at me, his eyes searching my face, making sure this is really what I want.

I grab his face and pull him to me, kissing him long and hard.  “I love you, Mulder.  I have for a long time and I need you to make love to me.” He doesn’t have to tell me he loves me, I already know he does. He knows I know.

He rises above me spreading my legs as he goes.  He grabs a hold of his beautiful cock and slides it through my folds.  “So wet, Scully,“ he says.  He finds my center and slowly eases himself inside, filling me beyond anything I have ever felt before. I lock my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life as we start moving together.

I am not going to last long and neither is he.  We try to slow down but that only intensifies both of our need, increasing our pace again.  In and out, up and down, grinding and thrusting harder and faster like our lives depended on this one thing.  I feel him getting bigger as I squeeze myself around him and just like that, my back arches off the bed and I am screaming his name and he is tensing and screaming mine.

Our bodies are slick with sweat, and the smell of sex surrounds us.  Mulder lay on top of me still reeling from his orgasm, as am I.  We both look at each other and a smile starts for both of us. He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me.

“Scully you’re right,” he says. ”More is better, more is life, almost is gone.”

FINALLY!

-END