Summary: Scully obsesses over Mulder’s Adam’s apple, no plot just a shameless excuse to write smut.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Additional Tags: PWP, Foreplay, Obsessive behavior, Fantasizing, Licking, Biting, Riding, Woman on top.
Notes: This story was based on this picture and this picture only
She’s always been obsessed with it. Years of observing it from below when she looked up to his face.
His face really is beautiful, perfect bone structure, smooth skin she’s sure would feel rugged if she were to touch where his stubble pokes through. Indeed, his face is perfect, but it doesn’t captivate her the way his Adam’s apple does.
She’s a scientist first and foremost, a physician. She knows all the functionalities of it, the ins and outs, what purpose it serves. Only a protusion in the neck formed by the angle of the thyroid cartilage that surrounds his larynx, she knows that.
She’s also Catholic, she knows all about the religious implications of said protusion. It’s ironic, that the physical proof of humanity’s first ever failure is what provokes a not so holy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The original sin; at the forefront of her mind, prompting daydreams of extramarital trangressions.
Knowing all this doesn’t help. For the first time, rationality and logic aren’t helping her, they just confuse her further. She knows, yet, like it was a new and different specimen, Mulder’s laryngeal prominence fascinates her to no end.
She longs to find out the secrets it holds, what the ridges of his cartilage would feel like under the pads of her fingertips. As she explored this part of him, would her tongue feel the tiny cut from an incident during his morning’s shaving ritual?
In a perfect world —the one she lets herself fall into in the safety of her bedsheets, her hand securely tucked into her underwear, reviewing the mental pictures she took and filed away during the day— Mulder would be a patient man. Docile and understanding, empathizing with her all consuming need, he’d allow her as much time as she’d need to conduct her very own research on him, beginning by her favorite part of his anatomy. He’d let her scrutinize him, study him with microscopic precision for all eternity.
In a perfect world, she’d get answers to the only truth that captivates her at the moment, the one that steals her breath and keeps her from sleeping. She’s a woman of science, she can’t bear uncertainty, can’t deal with hypotheses and deductions.
The urgency only multiplies when the deep rumbling of his vocal chords make it out of his throat and echoes in her ears, shooting elecricity straight to her core. It’s the sweetest torture, to know his Adam’s apple is responsible for the most beautiful sounds she’d ever heard, to know but not be able to see, to watch.
That’s a lie though, she does watch. She hides under the flimsy pretense of their height differences and she allows herself to watch. Observe intently as the object of her affection bops up and down in synchronicity with the words he’s pronouncing. Similarly to sign language, she thinks sometimes she’s learned the dictonnary of him; what words he’s pronouncing only by the way his skin moves according to the movements on his throat.
Scientifically, it’s not possible, but… she does work on the x-files, she’s had her fair share of having to open herself to extreme possibilities.
She’d open herself even further if that’s what Muldr wanted, if he gave her even the slightest of indication. He’d only have to open his door wide enough to let her in and she’d be the one unfolding like a flower. For him. Always for him.
Only for him. She likes to conjecture about him, what he would be like. Probably the first man who’d treat her with gentleness, careful enough not to damage or wilt her petals. In a perfect world, she’d agree to settle in his garden, forever, and he’d agree to be the key subject in her lab.
The comparaison is so nerdy it actually snaps her out of her thoughts. She realizes she hasn’t heard a word of whatever he’s said. She wonders if she can get away with it, like she’s previously done so many times.
“Are you okay, Scully?” Shit. No such luck this time.
“Just a little tired, but keep going I’m listening.” In a perfect world, she’d be telling him to keep going while he wasso deep inside her she’d have no doubts she’d be sore the next morning. He nods and keeps going, exactly like she told her too. He’s so obedient when he wants to, she finds herself daydreaming of yanking him by the tie to prove that theory.
Before she knows it, the conversation is over and he’s guiding them out of the office, his hand securely on her back. She’s grateful for the contact of course, but she still has to fight the disappointment that washes over her at losing sight of his neck.
See you next time, object of my desire, she thinks with a barely contained sigh.
And then one day, at last it happens.
Mulder is laying down on her bed and Scully is straddling him, one leg on each side of his hips. Similarly, her arms are on each side of his face, her hair acted as curtain protecting them from the outside world while they kissed. And kiss they did, after an intense make out session,Scully decides to start her exploration. Naturally, she knows she has to finally ceize the opportunity to quench her long time curiosity.
Depositing one more kiss on his soft, pillowy bottom lip, she makes her way to his Adam’s apple by peppering kisses over each patch of skin she finds until finally, she reaches her destination.
After swiping her hair to the side so it won’t tickle Mulder, she licks her lips in anticipation. She feels like she’s waited for this moment her entire life. And maybe she has, but now, the moment has finally come.
Scully’s tongue darts out of between her lips and establishes contact with his skin, right beneath where she actually wants it and, going as slowly as possible to make sure to enjoy each second of this experiment, she licks up a long strip until she feels herself going over the bump that has intrigued her for so long.
She repeats the process a couple times, and then starts nibbling, barely grating it with her teeth, like a dog wit a bone. Only more careful of course, she’s aware of how fragile it is, the end goal isn’t to hurt him, no, they have to be careful so they can enjoy this over and over. Given the noises Mulder is letting out, Scully know she won’t be the only one aching for a repeat performance.
It’s just as hot as she had imagined it, if not more.She can feel every ridge of his throat, the dips and bumps that sit right under a layer of skin that is so thin, it’s almost inexistant. The tought makes butterflies erupt in her stomach.
She takes some distance so she can process what just happened and her body involuntarily grinds on his tummy as she takes in the sight before her; Mulder is laying there, eyes closed, bated breath like he just ran for miles, and her saliva makes the part she’s payed attention to shine with the light coming from the ceiling. He's a vision, and before she can talk herself out of it, she goes back for seconds.
Instead of licking, she decides to change approach and starts applying some light suction, and just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, it does. So close to Mulder’s throat, she feels more than hears when he mumbles “Fuck, Scully” at the sudden change of tactic. She can almost taste the rumbling in his throat, the shaking of his vocal cords and the way his Adam’s apple bops up and down as he swallows his own saliva.
Scratch everything that has ever happened to her in her life, this sensation, the feeling of almost physically holding his moans in her mouth is the hottest thing she has ever experienced in her life.
She’s in awe, and she keeps expending her exploration of him until she can’t take it anymore, until she’s so wet, she’s powerless and has to succumb to her body’s desire. Her thirst for knowing now satisified, she takes him in her hand and connects them. Once he’s sheathed inside her, burried to the hilt in a way she’s sure will make her sore tomorrow morning, Scully rides him until she feels the tight coil at the pit of her stomach unravel, soon, she feels him exploding inside her, hot and heavy.
Seeing Mulder cum fascinates her — the fact they managed to get there after so long is a miracle on its own— but beyond that, she realizes she can’t tear her eyes away from his neck as he tries he grunts and moans, at the way he desperately tries to catch his breath. It’s beautiful, and only then she realizes that she had it all wrong.
Knowing for certain didn’t quench anything, on the contrary, it has made it all worse. She needs more, and she needs it now. Like he senses it, Mulder smiles at her, tells her he loves her, and simply presents his neck out to her.
Closing his eyes, Mulder loses himself in the sensation of her mouth on him. He knows she probably marked him, he hopes she did. He can’t help the feeling of pride that bursts in his chest; she wants him.
He’ll stay still and be good for her, bask in the unwavering and undivided attention she’s paying to parts of him he’s never thoughttwice about, all while wishing that she’ll want to study him for a long time.
Preferably forever, they both think with a smile.
