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agentwhalesong · 7 months

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Almost Everything She Ever Wished For

Also posted on AO3 | 3,306 words

Written for the On The Run, @xfilesfanficexchange, based on @kyouryokusenshi's prompt to explain how Scully became a doctor and how her name was cleared.

Enjoy ♥

She didn’t know how long she had been looking outside the kitchen window, watching life as it happened right in their backyard and thinking of her own. It was his presence right behind her more than his voice that woke her from her trance.

"Hey babe," he said, giving a quick kiss to the top of her head as he reached for the cupboard above her.

If he noticed anything off about her, he didn’t show.

"How was church?” he said, pouring himself some milk. “Did you say hi to Jesus for me?"

"I always do," she said, smiling.

“Aren’t you going to have breakfast?”

“I’ve already eaten, sorry for not waiting today.”

She leaned back on the sink while he sat, and uneasiness took over her as she wondered how she would broach the subject.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or will I have to guess?” He said, after a few moments of silence. “And if you say you’ve just seen Bigfoot outside that window, I’ll know you’re lying because he doesn’t come out of his cave this time of the year.”

This silly, silly man, she thought fondly as she laughed, but her smile slowly faded as she remembered she had a question to answer.

"Something happened today… Father Henderson approached me. It seems he has noticed me, despite my efforts."

"And what did he say?"

Mulder’s actual question was 'What did YOU say?', but she pretended not to have read between the lines.

"He said he's been curious about me. That he's seen me alone every time, and he was wondering if I wanted to do some volunteer work with the community, to kind of mingle and make friends. There's a local hospital in need of people to read to children and some other activities like that, so..."

What she didn't tell Mulder was that the father sensed loneliness in her, some sort of longing to be part of something, which was why he had approached her in the first place. What she didn't say was that Father Henderson was right in his evaluation. It wasn’t Mulder’s fault, of course; she had signed up for this when she decided to jump in that car with him without looking back. She would do it all over again without a second thought, but sometimes she wished she could also have a life outside their pretty, yet unremarkable, little house.

"What did you answer?" He interrupted her thoughts.

His face had changed slightly while she spoke, and she wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't known him for over a decade; wouldn't have noticed if they hadn't been together day and night for the past couple of years.

"Don't worry, I wasn’t reckless. We are still wanted, no matter if it's been ages since we last sensed we were being followed."

He was quiet for a while, looked at the plate in front of him, bit his lower lip, and all of those small gestures made her look at her own feet, ashamed for having even entertained the idea.

"You should say yes," he finally said, making her look up again and meet his eyes. They were kind eyes. Full-of-love eyes.

"But Mulder…"

She didn't even know how to start a protest, so she just left her sentence unfinished, giving him room to complete his thoughts.

"He doesn't know anything about me, right? So, in his mind, you're a single woman who lives somewhere in this town, somewhere he doesn't know either. I see no harm as long as you're careful, which I know you always are."

She considered his words for a while, wondering if it could really be that simple. Maybe it could.

“Will you…” she hesitated a little before continuing. “... Will you be okay without me?”

He locked eyes with her, and there she read ‘what kind of question is that?’, but the words that came out of his mouth were lighter, bitter less.

“Of course I will. What makes you think that I won’t?”

She shook her head.

“I guess I’m just saying that we haven’t been apart for a single day since we started this life together. Finding ourselves alone, even if for only some hours, can be challenging. Scary, even.”

“Are you scared?”

She hesitated a little, trying to admit it to herself.

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“You’ll be fine too, Scully. I promise. And if you’re not, you can always say you don’t want to go anymore.”

She nodded, considering this worst case scenario that wasn’t at all that bad. It was this way of his, of filling her heart with hope, that still made her weak in the knees from time to time.

“I love you,” she said in a low voice as a response.

He smiled at her, his eyes surprised upon hearing those words. It’s not like she never said it, but it wasn’t exactly very frequent either.

“You’re cute when you get all sappy,” he said, smirking.

She couldn’t help chuckling.

“Mulder, shut up.”

She then walked towards him, kissed his cheek, and left the room. She still needed some time to think, but maybe she would go talk to father Henderson the following day.

—------------------------------------

FIVE MONTHS LATER

She sighed as she stared at the card in her hand for the millionth time. This definitely wasn’t what she was expecting when she started volunteering, and yet it felt like it was something for which she was secretly hoping.

Mulder entered the bedroom just then, giving her no chance of hiding the small piece of paper that would probably change her life. She had been hiding it enough anyway; it was time for the truth.

She took a deep breath before looking at him.

“We need to talk,” she said quietly.

“Uh oh, don’t tell me you want to file for divorce.”

Close enough, she thought, but didn’t say anything. Did her eyes show what was going on in her mind though?

“Okay, you didn’t laugh or say anything about us not being married, so now I’m scared.” He sat beside her on the bed slowly. “What did I do?”

She interlaced their fingers, stroked his thumb with her own, then let go and silently handed him the business card.

His eyes went over the name of the doctor and his occupation a few times, but she couldn’t read his mind this time.

“Is this guy someone you’re interested in or…”

She chuckled in spite of herself, shaking her head. He ran one of his hands through his forehead as if saying ‘phew’, which made her laugh a little. She had to keep going, though.

“Remember that boy whose life I saved about two months ago, the one who went into cardiac arrest while I read to him?”

He just nodded, waiting.

“It turns out the board of directors have kept a close eye on me since then.”

Mulder clenched his jaw, probably unconsciously. He was starting to get worried, she could tell.

“Does that mean we are not safe anymore?”

She shook her head, although the answer to that would really depend on how you looked at the whole situation.

“It means they took an interest in me, enough to think that I would be a good addition to their medical team. Well, not me exactly, because all of that happened to Katherine, not Dana.”

“And what does Dana want to do?”

“I have to give them an answer by the end of the week.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

She sighed and closed her eyes briefly, knowing what she was getting into.

“I want to say yes.”

He averted his gaze to somewhere on the floor, and it took him a long time to say anything afterwards.

“How long have you had to consider this?”

“About a week.”

“And why are you telling me just now?”

“Because I needed to think, and to talk to someone before I made up my mind.”

“You needed to talk to someone? Shouldn’t you be talking to me instead? I mean—” He raised his voice, which kind of startled her for a moment.

She interrupted him before he jumped to conclusions.

“I needed to talk to an attorney, to know what chances I had of having my name cleared without anyone knowing where you are. I needed to know if I could stop being Katherine No-Last-Name and go back to being Dana Katherine Scully.”

Mulder stood up and ran his hands through his face, pacing the room like he always did when he needed to put his thoughts together in a coherent manner. It took him some time to speak again.

“What did this attorney say?”

“She said I have to move out and live by myself for a while to make a convincing case. That means we’ll only be able to start the whole process about a month after I get my own place, just to be on the safe side. They have to actually believe that I regret my life choices and want to repent, so to speak. I will probably be closely watched, followed, my phone may be tapped… well, you know as well as I do what the FBI can do to catch someone on a lie.”

His eyes teared up while he heard her, and he just nodded when she finished her sentence. Then, in a low, hurt voice, he asked.

“Do you regret all your life choices?”

She stood up, got closer, tried to hold his hand, but he withdrew it before their fingers touched completely.

“Mulder, no. I don’t regret a single day. How many times will I have to say that?”

“I’m sorry, Scully, I’m having a hard time believing that right now.”

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then opened them again, speaking more calmly this time.

“Do they know at the hospital that you are not who you say you are?”

She nodded.

“I had to tell Dr. Mills,” she pointed at the business card that was now on the bed. “My first reaction to his proposal was to say I couldn’t, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, the next time I went to the hospital, he approached me and I just… told him.”

Mulder’s face changed into a are-you-kidding-me? expression, because now he was probably thinking she had compromised their location and everything they worked hard to hide. It pissed her off that he would think something like that, as if he didn’t know her at all.

“I lied about a few aspects.” She continued, trying not to let her anger show. “He believes the story that I used to be in a relationship with someone who is wanted by the FBI, not that we are still together. But, apparently, this was no big deal to him because he said they can wait for me if I truly want this job. They even offered to let me start as an assistant of sorts while things don’t get solved.”

“You must have made quite an impression.” He scoffed.

The resentment in his voice didn’t let her see it as a compliment. Instead, it made her feel as if she had done it all on purpose, just to hurt him. Her eyes flooded immediately. This wasn’t supposed to go this way.

Her reaction to his words was probably what brought him back from his high of self-pity and anger because his face softened, his eyes moistened, his tongue wet his lips and his voice was low when he spoke.

“Look, I’m not mad that you’re trying to take your life back, you deserve it more than anyone. It’s just not exactly easy to accept that you’re choosing medicine over me. And I guess I never thought we would break up, let alone like this.”

Of course he would get it all wrong.

“Mulder, listen to me.” This time, she grabbed his hand and he allowed it. “We are not breaking up and I’m not choosing medicine over you. We just have to stay apart for a few months until things get cleared. It won’t be easy for either of us, but I would not be doing any of this if it meant I would never see you again. We may have never exchanged vows, but what we have IS until death do us part, do you hear me? Unless you are now having second thoughts about it.”

He stared at her for a moment, digesting her words, then pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. Their foreheads touched, in that comfortable and intimate way they had always done since their early days together.

“I am not having second thoughts.” He whispered. “It is until death do us part for me, too.”

He rubbed his nose against hers. “Promise you’ll come back?”

“I won’t rest until I do.”

He smiled.

“Congratulations, by the way. And I’m sorry for being such a jerk.”

“Thank you.”

Her answer was followed by a kiss, which was eventually followed by clothes on the floor and a slightly creaking bed.

When she woke up the following day, the first thing she did was to go to the hospital and talk to Dr. Mills.

—------------------------------------

THREE MONTHS LATER

She wasn’t yet cleared of all charges, but at least she was allowed to use her own name and act like an assistant at the hospital. It felt like her intern years sometimes, and some of these times she wondered if she wasn’t too old to be doing this. No, she was just tired.

She arrived at her apartment after one of those long days and checked outside the window to see if the usual agents were there to watch her. Strangely, they weren’t. This had become her routine ever since she started the process of being ‘reinstated into society’, and it was so familiar at this point that sometimes she felt like making coffee and taking some to the man and the woman on stakeout duty.

She smiled as she closed the blinds, thinking that she and Mulder could have used some freshly brewed coffee in their days.

Her smile then faded because thinking of Mulder always sent a pang of sadness to her chest.

Not seeing him for the past three months was worse than she had foreseen. She was constantly worried, wondering if he was taking care of himself, if he still had fun watching trash movies on Saturday nights even though she wasn’t there to make fun of them with him. Did he leave his office from time to time or did he start living there so his obsessions would always be close? How often did he think of her? Did he still have any resentments regarding her choices?

She sighed. It was frustrating that she still could do nothing about it.

She had thought of writing him small letters and have her mother deliver them to him, but she quickly changed her mind as she remembered Maggie could also be followed.

So all the notes and letters became journal entries instead. Maybe she would show him someday, maybe she would keep it private. Only the future could tell.

Her mind had traveled so far away that, when the phone rang, she startled.

The woman on the other side didn’t have to state her name for her to know who it was.

“We got it, Dana! No more hiding for you. You are now officially Dana Katherine Scully again.”

Scully’s heart raced, her eyes filled with tears, a huge smile took over her face, and she heard in a dream-like state her attorney’s instructions on what she had to do next . She barely even noticed when she put the phone back on the hook.

No more hiding for you.

She was so happy and so relieved that she cried for a long time, and when she slept that night, she didn’t have any nightmares or woke up every two hours.

It was about time.

—---------------------------------------------------

THREE WEEKS LATER

It took her a while to truly believe she wasn't being watched anymore. Sometimes, she would just drive somewhere far to see if someone followed, to see how safe she was if she were to stay away from her apartment or the hospital. There was never any sign that they hadn't believed her or that she was falling into a trap.

Not that she could, or would, abandon her apartment as if she had never lived there, but she could use it less often, maybe pretend she still lived there when her hours at work required her to be somewhere closer just so she could squeeze in some sleep.

So, trusting her instincts and careful observations, she woke up one day and decided to go home.

The dirt road that led to the house in the middle of nowhere finally came into view, making her heart skip a beat.

Remember to breathe, Dana. She told herself silently.

She was dying to see Mulder, but she was also afraid of what she would find. Was he still the same person she had left all those months ago? Did spending time with himself make him reconsider everything they agreed to before she went away?

In just a few moments, she stopped in front of the porch.

When she got out of the car, he was already waiting at the door, looking a little shy even though a beautiful smile rested on his face.

"Hi", she said, walking slowly towards him.

"Hi", he mumbled back.

It was all they could say before their bodies practically crashed into each other as they hugged so tightly that, if it were possible, they would have merged and become only one person.

She didn’t know how long they stood there before she moved in his arms just enough to look at him properly, analyze his features, plant a light kiss on his so-very-soft lips.

“I promised I would be back,” she whispered, still so close that her mouth brushed against his as she spoke.

Instead of saying something back, he glued his lips to hers, raised one of his hands to the back of her neck and slowly let his tongue meet hers. It was as if they were having their first kiss all over again.

It didn’t take long for his hands to go to her waist and lift her off the floor, prompting her legs to wrap around his hips.

They didn’t say anything as he took her inside, laid her on the couch and kissed every single part of her face, or when they took each other’s clothes off and slowly filled their mouths and hands with nipples, lips, necks and usually hidden skins, while their hearts exploded with emotions and sensations. Mulder’s first words came when he himself came.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he panted, as he pumped one last time inside her.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, breathing into his mouth as he circled her clit in just the right way to help her reach her orgasm in just a few seconds.

As she collapsed onto him, still catching her breath, she whispered.

“So, how’ve you been?”

They both chuckled as they realized they hadn’t exchanged more than a few sentences since she arrived.

“How about we talk about everything on our comfortable bed instead of this old, hard couch?”

“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had,” she joked, kissing his lips once more before getting up.

They went to bed and there they stayed. They had a lot to share with each other and she figured they wouldn’t be getting much rest for the next few days, just the way she wanted it to be.

For the first time in a very long time, she felt as if she had almost everything she ever wished for.

#the x files #mulder and scully #the x files fanfic #the x-files #fanfiction #On the run exchange

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audiofanficpod · 4 years

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Road to Hana by @kyouryokusenshi

Read by @postmodernpromartheus

Please leave the author a comment if you enjoyed their story 😘

#certified fluff fic #the x files fanfic #the x files #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xfiles #msr #msr fanfic #kyouryokusenshi #audio fanfiction #audio fiction #audio fanfic #audiofanficpod #fluff exchange #SoundCloud

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sisterspooky1013 · 2 years

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Night Divine

4640 words / Read it here on AO3

Written for the @xfilesfanficexchange for @kyouryokusenshi

Scully shuffles across the worn wooden floor in the kitchen, carefully avoiding the boards that have a reputation for creaking under pressure. Shivering, she pulls her robe tighter around her shoulders and then rubs her hands together to create warmth from the friction. She’d like to start a fire, but that’s more Mulder’s area of expertise, or at least he likes to maintain the facade that it is. He’s never been prone to unnecessary shows of masculinity with a few exceptions: starting fires, opening jars, and making sure she is the first to have an orgasm in any and all sexual encounters. She pretends to be irritated by all but the last one.

She carefully pulls open drawers and cupboards, making as little noise as possible as she starts a pot of coffee and retrieves a can of oven-ready cinnamon rolls from the fridge. As the refrigerator door swings closed, she startles when she finds Mulder standing behind it. She brings one hand to her chest as the can of cinnamon rolls falls to the floor with a soft crack.

“Jesus, Mulder, you scared me,” she says breathlessly, her heart working to slow from its unexpected pre-caffeine jolt.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, ma’am?” he asks with performative sternness.

“Making breakfast, it would appear,” she answers flatly.

“You should be resting, Scully. Let me do that,” he replies, bending down to retrieve the dropped pastries.

She sighs in frustration.

“Mulder, I am perfectly capable of opening a can of cinnamon rolls and putting it in the oven. My mother always made cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. It’s tradition.”

He steps forward, touching his palm gently to her cheek.

“I just don’t want you to overextend yourself,” he says much more softly.

“I’m over six weeks postpartum, Mulder,” she reasons. “My doctor cleared me to resume normal activity, and I’d say putting some cinnamon rolls in the oven meets that description.”

As irritated as she is by his hovering and treating her like she’s made of glass, she understands why he’s acting this way. After a stressful pregnancy deemed high-risk due to her age and a long and difficult labor, she’d started hemorrhaging immediately after the baby was delivered.

From her perspective, she lost consciousness as soon as she heard the first cries and woke several hours later to learn that she’d been the recipient of five units of blood, but that her baby girl was healthy and doing well. It wasn’t until after they’d been home for three weeks with Mulder relentlessly doting on her that she broke down and yelled at him to give her some space, and he finally told her what it had been like for him.

He told her how the doctor held up the baby, tiny and pink and screaming like a banshee, and the overwhelming sense of relief he had. They’d made it through, and here she was, finally. His relief was short-lived as he looked over to Scully to share the moment with her and saw her eyes roll to the back of her head, just as every doctor and nurse in the room started scrambling and shouting things he didn’t understand. Someone pulled him out into the hallway and then directed him to a recovery room, leaving him alone and afraid, not knowing what was happening or if she would be okay. A few minutes later, a nurse came in with a small bundle, his newborn daughter, and placed her in his arms. He begged her for information on what was happening with Scully, but all the nurse could say was that they were working on her, and would he like to help weigh and measure his baby?

It was thirty minutes that he waited, but felt like an eternity, looking into the baby’s squished little face and wondering if Scully was going to die. Could he raise this baby alone? He didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby. Save for the first week of William’s life in which he changed as many diapers as he could, he was completely inexperienced. He couldn’t do this without her. He didn’t want to.

Standing in their kitchen a little over six weeks later, her body still healing but mostly recovered, she understands that the emotional wounds he suffered will take much longer to heal than her physical ones, and she’s trying very hard to be patient with him.

She steps forward, pushing onto her toes and placing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I promise that I’m being mindful. If anything feels off, I’ll stop and ask for help, okay?” she says gently, and he nods. “Will you please make a fire? I’m freezing,” she adds, and for that she gets a smile.

“I can do that,” he replies, returning her kiss and moving towards the fireplace.

“Turn on the lights on the tree while you’re over there, would you?” she adds over her shoulder as she peels the paper off the outside of the can and whacks it on the edge of the counter until it bursts at the seams. “The baby loves to look at them.”

The baby was given a name, of course, one that holds meaning to them both for different reasons, but they rarely call her by it. She is most often “peanut” to Mulder and “sweet pea” to Scully, or simply “the baby.”

As if hearing her name, a sharp cry sounds from the baby monitor on the counter and they turn to meet each other’s eye and smile.

“I’ll get her,” Scully declares, leaving Mulder to start the fire as she pads up the stairs to the nursery.

The room is modestly furnished and has no real theme. Until she was here, until breath filled her lungs and her APGAR score passed muster, they could not bring themselves to prepare for her beyond a single pack of diapers, a crib still in the box, and a car seat. As often as they heard the words “geriatric pregnancy,” as many specialists as Scully saw to monitor the health of her and the baby, as unlikely as it was that she should exist in the first place, preparing for her arrival seemed too audacious.

“Good morning, Sweet Pea,” she coos as she approaches the crib, the baby’s cries fading at the sound of her mother’s voice.

The baby is wrapped tightly in a swaddle, her shock of dark brown hair sticking up wildly. Mulder was greatly disappointed that the baby didn’t have red hair, but they hold out hope that her eyes might stay blue. Scully gently unwraps her, smiling as her arms shoot up above her head in a stretch, freed from the confines of the swaddle. After the baby has been changed, they venture downstairs for her morning feed to enjoy the warmth of the fire and the twinkle of the lights.

As Scully reaches the bottom of the stairs, she smiles at the crackling fire and the soft melody of Christmas music that Mulder put on. He is now in the kitchen, making breakfast after all, and she brings the baby to him for a good morning kiss before they get comfortable in an armchair, a pillow across Scully’s lap for support. Breastfeeding has been a relative breeze this go round, having worked through supply and latch issues with William that were exacerbated by her stress over Mulder leaving. In short order, the baby is happily suckling away, her soft grunts and contented sighs paired with the hormones of her milk letting down making Scully feel blissful and relaxed.

“Madame,” Mulder says as he sets a cup of coffee on the table beside her, as well as a glass of water, and drops a kiss to the crown of her head.

After the baby has had her breakfast, they enjoy their own before finally getting around to opening gifts, an order of operations that will surely change when she is old enough to understand what Christmas is all about. Forgoing gifts for one another, they instead decided to each buy gifts for the baby that would be a surprise to the other, given that the baby herself is too small to enjoy so much as tearing the wrapping paper. They gush over tiny shoes and decorative rattles, and books they each enjoyed as children that they look forward to sharing with her. The last box Scully sets in Mulder’s lap bears a label indicating it’s “to Daddy, from Peanut,” and he casts Scully a skeptical glance.

“I thought we agreed to no gifts for each other,” he chastises her, and she shrugs innocently.

“It’s not from me, it’s from the baby,” she defends, and he shakes his head as he tears off the paper.

He opens the small box to find a coffee mug featuring a cartoon baby alien wearing a diaper and proclaiming “my daddy is out of this world.” He keeps his head down, studying the mug, and Scully starts to wonder if he doesn’t like it, or doesn’t get the joke. When he finally lifts his head, his eyes are wet and he’s wearing a pained smile that is almost a grimace.

“Oh, Mulder,” she says affectionately, “it’s supposed to be funny.”

“It is,” he insists, his voice tight with emotion, “I love it, thank you.”

“It’s not from me,” she reminds him, pointing to the baby in her arms.

He leans forward to place a kiss to the sleeping baby’s forehead.

“Thank you, Peanut,” he says to the infant, and then lifts his head to kiss Scully softly on the lips. “I think Mommy may have had a hand in it, so thanks to her too.”

She smiles sweetly at him and then takes the baby upstairs to put her down in her crib while Mulder cleans up the wrapping paper mess. She returns to find him seated on the couch, and he extends his arm in invitation for her to join. She takes a seat beside him, tucking her legs up and leaning heavily against his torso while he slings an arm over her shoulder. They sit quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the twinkle of the tree and the crackle of the fire.

“Tell me about the Christmas you spent with William,” he requests, and she can tell it’s a question he’s been holding onto for a while. They’ve taken to referring to him as William when speaking to the time he spent in Scully’s care, and the years after where they didn’t know what became of him. When referring to the time after he re-entered their lives, he is Jackson.

From the day they were reunited in Mulder’s jail cell until the night Scully walked out the doors of their unremarkable home for the last time, he asked her very little about those ten months she got to be William’s mother. Scully had taken this as a sign of apathy, or anger, or denial. Regardless of the cause, it was painful for her, and she most often sought solace in her mother, who loved to reminisce about her lost grandson. After Scully left, when Mulder finally sought the therapy she’d been begging him to for years, he came to understand that his avoidance of talking about William was not the merciful move he’d intended it to be. Just as remembering the eight short years he spent with Samantha was cathartic to him, remembering the ten short months Scully spent mothering William was a balm on her broken heart. This, along with hundreds of other tiny things, and a few big ones, was something he’d resolved to do differently if she ever gave him another chance.

Scully pulls a deep breath as though preparing herself.

“It was kind of awful, honestly,” she admits with some regret. “I was so miserable and I missed you so much that day. I think William picked up on my mood and he was fussy from the moment he woke up.”

Mulder gives her shoulder a squeeze and rests his cheek on the top of her head. He tries not to think too much about how things might have been different if he’d never left. It hurts too much to consider the possibility that they could have stayed together, that she never would have had to give William up.

“We went over to my mom’s and it was just the three of us. William wouldn’t stop crying no matter what I did, and I was so stressed out. Mom was trying so hard to be helpful, but when she took him from me he just cried harder. He only wanted me. And Mom said ‘I bet you miss your daddy, don’t you, Will?’ and I just totally lost it. I mean sobbing, snotty, ugly crying. And my poor mom, she was so helpless. I took William up to the nursery she set up for him and we sat in an old rocking chair and cried together for a while, because we missed you so much.”

Her voice catches, and she stops talking for a moment. Mulder reaches over and takes her hand, squeezing it softly. This is one of the big things he needs to do, he knows. Make space for her pain, not try to solve it or minimize it or wish it away. He wasn’t there, and he can’t ever change that. The least he can do is let her lay some of it on him. To feel it with her, their shared loss. After a few moments and some soft sniffs, she continues.

“I decided to tell him a story about you, about a Christmas when you were there. So I started talking about the Christmas Eve we spent at that abandoned house, and he stopped crying and listened so raptly, as though he understood. And I told him all the things that happened that didn’t make any sense, the people under the floorboards and how you shot me-”

“I hope you also told him you shot me,” Mulder interjects, and she elbows him softly.

“I told him about later, at your apartment, and the watch you gave me with the inscription on the back. How I was just starting to realize at that time how in love with you I was, but that I was too afraid to admit it to myself. And I told him that I hope he has the courage to tell people he loves them, because if there were anything in my life I could change, it would be telling you years before I did. Letting myself love you as soon as I knew I felt it.”

Mulder heaves a sigh.

“I need to make an addendum to that inscription,” he says regretfully, and she lifts her head to give him a quizzical look. He sees her damp eyes and feels bad for making a joke in the middle of her emotional story. “It’s seven billion now,” he explains, and she rolls her eyes at him, then falls back into place against his side.

“William finally calmed down after that, and I was able to have Mom take him for a bit so I could go cry and be miserable by myself. When I came back downstairs, Mom was singing ‘Oh Holy Night’ to him. That was her favorite Christmas song.”

Her words catch again on a swell of emotion, the holidays being a stark reminder of the loss of her mother. Mulder wraps his free arm around her, brushing it up and down her arm.

“Thank you for telling me about that,” he says tenderly. “I’ve always wondered. I’m sorry it was such a hard day. And if it’s any consolation, I was over in New Mexico having an awful, miserable day too. Missing you so much I thought I might actually die from how much it hurt.”

Scully sits up, wiping her eyes on her shirtsleeves.

“I don't want to be sad anymore,” she declares. “We’re together now, and we have that sweet baby sleeping upstairs. We have a lot to be happy about today.”

He nods in agreement.

“How about a nap? That baby is sweet, but she sleeps like shit when it’s dark out. And I don’t know if you know this, Scully, but we’re old as hell to be taking care of a baby.”

She laughs, the image of her red eyes and nose against the brightness of her smile one that clutches at his heart.

“A nap sounds perfect.”

The day is deliciously lazy, full of Christmas movies playing on the TV in the background as they pass the baby back and forth and tell stories of Christmases past. Mulder attempts to make a ham for dinner, another Maggie Scully tradition, and while it turns out a little on the tough side, his effort touches her. After dinner for them and a nursing session for the baby, he orders her to take some time to herself while he cleans up and gets the baby ready for bed.

She draws a hot, brimming bath and sinks into the water up to her chin with a contented sigh. As she soaks, she runs her palms over her breasts and belly, considering the new shape of her body. She had bounced back rather quickly after William was born, though at the time she agonized over the saggy pooch of her belly until it disappeared by his second month of life. She knew that her body at fifty four would likely not behave at all the way it did when she was thirty seven, but she’s been pleasantly surprised at its continual return towards her form prior to becoming pregnant. She’s certainly not there yet, but she has hope that she might eventually be. She touches the deep red stretch marks marring her lower belly and wonders if they will fade to silver like they did after William. She almost hopes they don’t, these bits of evidence of yet another miracle in her life.

Slipping her hand lower, she touches her vulva, which has also been changed by the birth of her daughter. Despite her traumatic delivery, there was minimal tearing and the tenderness subsided more quickly than it did after William. She gently trails her finger around her clit and feels her body respond. It’s been a long time since she and Mulder made love. Their shared worry over pregnancy complications made them both hesitant, even as her hormones raged during the second trimester and inspired all kinds of wicked thoughts in her mind. Experimentally, she slips a finger into her vagina and moans, shifting her hips. She feels ready, but she’s not sure Mulder will agree. She considers just getting herself off now, but on the off chance that he's willing, she decides to wait. When the water begins to cool, she pulls the plug and climbs out of the tub.

After donning an oversized sweater and fleece pajama pants, she walks down the hall towards the baby’s room, stopping in her tracks when she hears Mulder’s voice emanating from the room. She loves to listen to him singing to the baby, his singing voice quite lovely and unexpected. She creeps quietly to the open doorway until she can see him in the antique rocking chair, the baby laying against his chest as he serenades her.

Oh holy night, the stars are brightly shining

It is the night of our dear savior’s birth

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

‘Til he appeared and the soul felt its worth

Love and loss pit painfully in her chest, the memory of her mother singing to William like this in Mulder’s absence flashing before her. Tears well in her eyes and silently fall down her cheeks. He is here now, and her mother and William are gone, and she feels concurrently so incredibly lucky and devastated beyond belief. Quietly, she creeps back to their bedroom to wait for him.

He enters twenty minutes later, finding her curled up on her side on top of the comforter. She lifts her arm, holding it out to him in invitation. He lays down facing her, scooting close until their foreheads touch, and she pushes her leg between his.

“She go down okay?” she asks quietly, scraping her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Hmhm,” he affirms with a contented sigh.

She moves her hand to his jaw, brushing her thumb over his stubbled cheek.

“Mulder?”

“Mmm?” he hums.

“Kiss me,” she requests in a low register.

He lifts his head to give her a questioning look.

“I’m ready, Mulder. You aren’t going to hurt me,” she reassures him, flexing her pelvis gently towards his. She can feel him growing hard under his sweats.

“Are you sure?” he asks with an expression that is an agonizing mix of arousal and concern.

She nods, lifting her chin and parting her lips as he bends forward to press his lips to hers, a relieved sigh streaming out of his nose, though he has not yet found relief.

They move slowly, as slow as the trickle of water in the stream that borders one side of their property, as slow as the melt of the snow on the eaves of the house when the sun rises in the morning, as slow as their love that blossomed over years in rental cars and motel rooms. As usual, he will wait for as long as she needs him to, but she is done waiting. Life is far too short and loss far too prevalent to wait when you can reach right out and touch what is sitting before you.

The slip of his tongue against hers sets off a throb between her legs, equal parts memory and anticipation. She slides her palm down his chest and belly, slipping it under the waist of his pants to wrap her fingers around his erection. He whimpers, panting into her mouth as his hips move of their own volition, sliding his cock in and out of her fist.

“I’ve missed you,” he admits, and she understands the meaning. She’s been right here the whole time, but their physical connection was always an intensifier of their emotional one.

“Please,” she asks breathlessly, “now.”

He pushes up onto his knees, hooking his fingers into the waist of her pants and pulling them slowly down her legs, watching intently as though he might be about to see something new. She sits up and discards her sweater, lying back with him nestled fully clothed between her thighs as he absorbs her. Of course, he’s seen her naked on many occasions since the baby was born, but not like this. He intentionally avoided looking at her like this.

He reverently trails his fingertips over her breasts, his pupils dilating as her nipples pucker under his touch. He leans down and places soft kisses around each nipple, flicking his tongue experimentally against the hardened bud to see how she responds, unsure whether they are off limits given their current role in feeding the baby. Her hips buck up at the contact and he cracks a small smile, continuing to trail kisses down her belly. He licks at the angry red stretch marks, running his nose up each one as though thanking it for making space for his child. He kisses the insides of her thighs, then stops to look at her vulva with curiosity and desire.

“Doesn’t look any different,” he says, flicking his eyes up briefly to meet hers.

“Liar,” she replies good-naturedly.

He smiles again, then dips his head to place soft kisses to her increasingly slickening lips, finally darting out his tongue to lap at her entrance, and she flexes her hips toward him with a low moan.

“Still tastes great,” he remarks with a smirk.

“Thank you,” she retorts as though he complimented her shoes.

He crawls back up her body, hovering over her. She pushes her hands up under his T-shirt, feeling the flex of his muscles as he holds himself up. They are both aging, there is no doubt about that, but he is still so strong. He is her strength, in so many ways. He sits up long enough to remove his shirt, returning to kiss her with more urgency than he did before. He is still nervous, but he’s also excited. Her hands find the waist of his pants, pushing them down and off his hips. He doesn’t seem to bother with underwear most days, a fact that she hasn’t thought to question. His erection breaks free, brushing against the skin of her belly, and desire floods through her like the tide. She wants him so much.

He wriggles free of his pants and she carefully lifts her legs to cradle his hips, her own shifting impatiently.

“Are you ready?” he asks, and she lets out a little groan.

“Very much so,” she replies, touching his hips and pulling them gently towards her.

He reaches down to take hold of his erection, brushing it over her lips and coating the head with her wetness. He then presses gently against her entrance, watching her face raptly. As he slowly pushes inside, her mouth falls open and her eyebrows knit in relief. She closes her eyes.

“Okay?” he asks, his voice tight with his own restraint.

“So good,” she replies, waiting patiently while he keeps an agonizingly slow pace.

When he is fully submerged, he lets out a heaving breath and drops his forehead against hers.

“You feel so fucking good,” he says as though admitting something he knows is wrong.

“You do, too,” she replies, again shifting her hips impatiently.

He obliges, beginning a slow withdrawal, though not quite as slow as before. Each stroke in and out seems to assuage his fears that he is hurting her, and at last he reaches a pace that scratches the long held itch.

“Just a little bit faster, it’s okay,” she tells him, knowing that he’s still holding back.

He gently grabs hold of one of her calves, tucking it up against his side.

“Is this okay?” he asks, watching her face.

“Yes,” she breathes out, enjoying the new angle as he speeds up.

Finally he loses himself, confident that she is not in pain, and rocks firmly against her while they kiss desperately, panting and whimpering. When her breath quickens in a familiar way, one he has heard countless times, he holds a steady rhythm and waits for her.

“Oh, god,” she moans before she begins to pulse around him, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck in a way that would be painful if he could be bothered to care.

“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth, then follows her over the edge, tucking his face against her neck as he empties into her.

As both of their orgasms slow and then subside, he slowly withdraws and moves to lie beside her. She rolls to her side and they resume the position they started in, face to face with her leg tucked between his.

“I missed that,” she says softly, scratching her fingernails over his bare back.

“Me too,” he agrees, brushing her hair off her face.

“We should do it again,” she suggests hopefully, and he chuckles.

“I’m an old man, Scully. Gone are the days of three times in a night.”

“Hmm, those were some good times though, huh?” she says wistfully.

“That they were,” he agrees.

They take a few minutes to get cleaned up and find pajamas, then pull back the covers on the bed and snuggle up underneath.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers against her ear as they begin to drift off. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replies with a yawn. “Merry Christmas.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #x files #x files fanfic #XFSecretSanta2021

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skullsmuldon · 3 years

Note

whats happening with the diana fowley writing prompts? is the list ready ir are you still accepting prompts?

Hey anon ! Still accepting prompts because tumblr pulled a stunt on my inbox and deleted my complete inbox at the time before I could save it all.

If people are still interested in it I can for sure put up what I could save and also add new prompts…

So what’s the verdict? are any fandom writers interested? @baronessblixen @scullysexual @r00m203 @allyinthekeyofx @edierone @ofmulder @danadeservesadrink @thatfragilecapricorn30 @kikocrystalball @nowwhateinstein @suitablyaggrieved @lokisgame @alienbaby-babymama @aliendyke @crescentmoon223 @cultureisdarkbeer @slippinmickeys @purrykat @sarie-fairy @serahsanguine @sandymans-world @monikafilefan @damn-mulder @ms31x129 @softnow @soft-thrills @kyouryokusenshi @poeticsandaliens @alwaysforyouscully @starbuck09256 @starwalker42 @o6666666 @queequeg0925 @admiralty-xfd @markwatneyandenesemble @fragilevixenfic @sisterspooky1013 @lotsoforangesoutside @silhouetteofacedar @emily--sim @iconicscullyoutfits @freckleslikestars @rationalcashew I’m sure I forgot soooo sooo many peeps and I apologize in advance so tag all the writers you can think of ! 🥳🥳

#the xf fanfiction #the x files #msr fic #diana fowley #fox mulder #dana scully #xf prompt

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gillians-leoni · 3 years

Text

Our Next Adventure

written for the @xfilesfanficexchange 2021 Dialogue Fanfic Exchange

Mulder and Scully await the birth of their daughter, and Scully’s dream has a special visitor.

for @kyouryokusenshi 💛

Thank you to @lainatelle and alyssa for the beta and to @palepinkpores for the pregnancy info!

rated mature for breast fondling

AO3 Link

tagging @today-in-fic

“Scully, you just folded those yesterday,” Mulder noted as Scully stood in front of the dresser.

She glared at him as she draped a onesie over her expectant belly. At thirty-nine weeks and counting, she was more than ready to meet her and Mulder’s daughter. While she enjoyed her pregnancy for the most part (emesis, swollen feet, a sore back, and enhanced clitoral sensitivity notwithstanding), Scully was ready for this baby to come out. They had tried everything including stimulating her nipples, spicy foods, and sex —their personal favorite— but this baby was taking her sweet time.

“And I’m folding them again.”

Mulder swallowed his response. He knew what this was, he had read about it and she had mentioned it a few times. Scully’s nesting had gone into overdrive over the last few weeks and he was just happy to help her in any way he could. He went to hug her from behind and his large hands ran over her belly and picked up the onesie. He couldn’t believe they would soon be taking home a little human in something as small as the garment he was holding. Jackson had been a bigger baby, but this one seems to have taken after their mother. This was something he had never experienced before, not really. He placed the onesie back in the drawer and buried his head into Scully’s neck.

“Mulder…” she warned, but she relaxed into his embrace as he peppered soft kisses on her skin.

He rubbed circles on various spots on her belly and added pressure when he reached her hips. A groan escaped Scully’s lips as she placed her hands over his. He had been paying attention at lamaze class, she thought with a smile. While his touches were gentle and comforting, she really had to use the restroom. She removed his hands from her body and cupped his jaw.

“I’ll be right back,” she said as she walked away, her hand lingering.

After using the restroom, she went to clean herself and sighed when she noticed her mucus and blood on the white paper. With Will-Jackson, it had happened weeks before his birth, but she was basically full term. Losing her plug would hopefully speed up her labor and she'd be able to meet her precious baby girl. Scully decided to say nothing to her partner, for he’d only think she was in active labor and panic. All the knowledge and experience in the world wouldn’t stop Mulder from wanting her safe.

She washed her hands and found the dresser drawers open. Mulder was feeling the soft cotton of the baby onesies. A tear threatened to escape as he met her gaze.

“She’s so small,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Scully placed her left hand on his left shoulder and rested her head on his bicep. “Just wait until she’s here.”

He turned around, letting go of the small garment, and met her lips with his. With a soft smack, they parted and wrapped their arms around each other.

“I can’t wait for this new adventure,” he said.

Scully was almost crying when she released from his grasp and smiled. “And what a wonderful adventure it will be, but this mama needs to eat because I’m hungry.”

They both laughed softly and made their way into the kitchen. She slowly sat down at the kitchen table while Mulder went to open the fridge.

“What are you hungry for?”

She almost missed the question as she felt a twinge in her lower back. “Mm… I could really go for a ham and cheese sandwich. Full fat mayonnaise. And don’t forget to heat it up.”

“You got it.”

Scully rubbed her aching belly as Mulder went to work making her most recent craving. When Scully wasn’t glued to the toilet or in too much pain, she couldn’t seem to curb her hunger. It didn’t help she already felt big from this pregnancy, but to add the increase in calories she had to consume was not helping her self-esteem. Mulder told her she was beautiful of course, and showed her as well as told her. She was currently wearing one of his t-shirts and being swallowed in it, but her belly pulled around the middle and she hadn’t been able to see her feet for months.

Their midnight snack was eaten in silence, both content to just exist. The pain had lessened, but was consistent which made sitting on the hard wood chairs uncomfortable.

“Why don’t we get you into bed so you can be comfortable,” Mulder suggested as he had noticed the occasional grimace form on her face.

Scully nodded and held out her hand as he got up from his spot. They worked together to help her up and she slowly waddled her way up the stairs to their bedroom as Mulder put the dishes in the sink. He made it to their bedroom in time to see her nude body, which she had been quick to criticize. She turned around and blushed when she realized he was watching her. He smiled and went over to her. He kissed her passionately as he felt the weight of her breasts in his hands. As he moved down to worship them, she gasped at the sensation. He licked, kissed, and gently bit down on her breasts as her hands ran through his hair.

“Mulder… Mulder, stop,” she smiled. “I need to get dressed.”

He huffed in defeat as she prepared for bed. Mulder stripped down to his boxers and went to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. When he was done, she had already gotten into bed and was laying on her right side facing away from his side of the bed, supported by her pregnancy pillow and the plethora of others she insisted she needed to support her. Standing in the doorway, he took in the back of his very pregnant and very beautiful partner. Her hair was splayed across one of the pillows and he couldn’t help but think of that night in the motel with their talks of the future, oblivious to the fact they would make their daughter that night. He got into bed and spooned her, holding both her and the life they had created together. She placed her hands on top of his and they both fell into a blissful sleep.

Scully stood on the rocks at Sunset Cliffs. The moon shone bright amongst the stars. The wind howled and she felt her hair fly in various directions. This was her and Missy’s favorite spot as teenagers. They would make the drive together and just enjoy the sound of the waves and the feel of the water against their toes. Scully had her first time in the backseat of her boyfriend’s car as they sat and talked about their plans for the future. She walked until she was on the beach and felt the sand on her toes. She continued walking until she was ankle deep in the water. Taking a deep breath, she looked out into the ocean, all the memories of this place coming back to her.

“You like to come here too?”

Startled, she turned around and gasped. “Will-Jackson?” she asked in shock as she took in all six feet of her son.

“Hey Dana.”

“Wh- I…” Tears threatened to spill at the sight of her son who she hadn’t truly seen in almost seventeen years.

“I know it’s a lot, but I could feel your presence here. Well, your dream presence, at least.”

“We miss you,” she managed to say, eyes watery and voice breaking. It took everything in her not to run and barrel him over in a hug.

“I know. I… need to spend some more time alone. I need to know it’s finally safe for me.” He looked out at the water and closed his eyes.

“Can… can I hug you?”

He held out his arms and Scully walked over to him as fast as her pregnant belly would allow. She sobbed as she felt her son’s embrace. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

Jackson let his head fall as he sighed. This woman, who had let him go to protect him, had never once stopped loving him. Ever since he found out he was adopted, he had felt hurt and confused. Who would go through all the trouble of having him just to give him up? But when he found out why, how his biological mother had given up so much to keep him safe, he promised to do everything he could to make sure he would be able to see them one day.

They let go and Scully wiped at her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s you. I spent your whole life thinking about you.”

He smiled and nodded to her belly. “You’ll have someone else to think about soon enough.”

“You’ll always be my first. You were a miracle. I’m just sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

“You did what you had to do. I’m okay. May I?” he asked, his hand hovering over her stomach.

She took his hand and placed it over her daughter. Scully felt as the baby kicked and moved inside of her.

“You’re going to be a great mom,” Jackson said, causing Scully to sob harder.

“I just wish I could’ve been yours.”

“I know,” Jackson smiled sadly as he removed his hand. “It’s why I come here. I sense how much this place means to you. I feel connected to you. Plus, California’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Scully let out a half-laugh, half-sob as she wiped more tears away.

“Maybe one day you’ll be able to tell me about it.”

Her breath hitched. “I’d love that.”

He went to hug her again, which was gratefully reciprocated. “I’m sorry this is short, but I have a feeling you’ll be needed soon,” he said as he released from her embrace again.

The wind howled harder and clouds formed overhead sending a pouring rain. Thunder cracked in the distance and Jackson walked backwards, moving away from her.

“What do you mean?” Scully asked loudly over the wind and rain. She had to repeatedly move wet hair from her face.

“I mean she’s coming,” Jackson replied with the same volume.

Scully looked down and saw her body start to become transparent. “Wait!” she cried.

“It’s okay. I’ll see you later. Don’t forget to tell her all about me.”

“Jackson, I love you!”

“I love you t-” was the last thing she heard before everything went black.

Scully gasped and sat up suddenly. Her stomach tightened and the pain wrapped around into the front of her stomach. She groaned and felt Mulder stir next to her.

“Mulder,” she said, nudging his shoulder. The pain became stronger and she struggled to remain calm. “Mulder!” she said again, this time louder.

“Wh-what?” he asked groggily as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Mulder, the baby is coming now!” her voice came out as a loud whisper.

“Oh shit,” she heard as he practically jumped out of bed.

“It’s okay, we still have time, but just help me up please. I need to move.”

After she was up and walking, Mulder held her hand as they paced around the house, stopping every fifteen to twenty minutes as a contraction coarsed through Scully’s body.

“I saw him,” Scully said out of the blue as she draped herself over the back of the couch.

“Who?”

“Jackson. He came to visit me in my dream.”

“Oh my God,” Mulder croaked. “Is he okay?”

“He’s okay. He said he’d see us later. He’ll come back to us, Mulder; our son will come back.”

Mulder brushed some of Scully’s hair out of her face. She was sweating and in pain, bringing their daughter into the world while their son promised he’d be back. The feelings were overwhelming and she cried out at the next contraction.

“I wish I could take the pain away.”

“It’s okay,” Scully said breathlessly as the contraction waned. “It’s worth it.”

“Ready for our next adventure?”

“I’m ready.”

Lily Faith Mulder was born at the hospital nine hours later, noisy and slippery. She had a sturdy set of lungs and an appetite that made her father proud. She had a dark head of hair and blue eyes, the perfect combination of her parents. While Scully told him her eyes could change color, Mulder wanted her ocean blue eyes to stay. They took turns singing to their little girl and holding all six pounds of her. After the birth and the baby’s first feeding, Scully was exhausted and incredibly sore.

Mulder paced the room, a fussy Lily in his arms as her mother slept. They had about half an hour before she needed to eat again, so Mulder spent this time doting on his little girl. He looked at the table that had a vase of flowers and cards from Scully’s friend Ellen, Einstein and Miller, and her coworkers at Our Lady of Sorrows. He decided to look at the cards and came across one with a picture of the ocean on the front, which he found odd for a card congratulating a birth. He opened it and his eyes welled up as he realized who had sent it.

To the next adventure. I hope to be able to experience it together some day - J

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dnscully · 4 years

Note

Hi cat! Your fic recs are so great. Thank you!! Do you or your followers know about any revival, especially S11 or post-revival fics? I’ve been spiraling and need more MSR!

hey anon! i don’t typically read revival era stuff but here are some that i love (i’ve rec’d most of these before but in case you missed them!!)

After She Left by agoodwoman - post break up revival au. hurt, comfort, healing, so good, just read

Terra Firma Series by Malibusunset - post season 8 au. the last one (riptide?) is so angsty i died

Visitor / Resident by @leiascully - revival era reunion fic. soso good

Duplicity of the Afterglow by agoodwoman - plus one fix-it

praescitum by @how-i-met-your-mulder - casefile circa their separation

purgatorio by @wtfmulder - “why are mulder and scully seemingly married in ‘this’ but seemingly still broken up in ‘plus one’?” the angst. i love.

sofas and ikea by @how-i-met-your-mulder - another “wtf was going on in this vs plus one” episode filler fic

fics that aren’t exactly revival but kinda sorta are

Times Colliding by @gaycrouton - isn’t exactly a s11/revival era story but it kind of is? in a way? anyway my point is, it’s good and u should read it (wip)

Rooted In Friendship by CultureIsDarkBeer, Kyouryokusenshi, Ms31x129 - does go up to s11

if anyone else has any recs for anon please feel free to leave a reply or reblog with some links!

@lilydalexf has a WHOLE bunch of fic recs on her blog and i’m so sure there are loads of revival/post-revival fics there too!

#txf fic #anonymous #ask #rec

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bevh78 · 4 years

Text

Help required for finding a fic. I don’t even know if it exists

Anyone know of a my struggle 1 fic where in the scene that svetta comes out of the unremarkable house scully believes that something happened between them. I know it’s way out there but maybe that would be the reasoning behind her season 11 bedroom talk of mulder finding someone younger to have a child with. If one doesn’t exist can a writer please write this. It came to me when I was watching a fan MSR music video on YouTube today please feel free to post on other sites and pages as well I really need this now it’s the only thing that makes any sense with her talk in season 11 and then maybe link it to end of my struggle 4 with baby news really appreciate any help

Also tag anyone I’ve missed please

Thanks everyone

@baronessblixen @frangipanidownunder @fragilevixenfic @serahsanguine @amorfati3215 @mustangsally78 @today-in-fic @allyinthekeyofx @msrafterdark @msrlibrary @alwaysforyouscully @barbarashershey @contrivedcoincidences6 @darkmagician42 @em-scully @foxanddanapetrie @gillianaofficial @gaycrouton @mldrgrl @markwatneyandenesemble @storybycorey @hurricanescully @just-fic-already @kateyes224 @kiwiphroot @kateyes224 @kyouryokusenshi @leiascully @lilydalexf @msrafterdark @msrlibrary @sure-fine-skullz @slippinmickeys @sarie-fairy @whats-a-mulder @wtfmulder @xfilesnews @xfrevivalfanfic

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xfilesfanficexchange · 4 months

Text

So What Happens Now?

Author: @wrkinprgss

For: @kyouryokusenshi

Dana and Monica find William alive after the ship flies off. Monica tries to figure out what is happening and where to go.

Ao3 Link

#XFPerfectOther2023 5/8

#xfperfectother2023 #reyes #scully #fanfic #x files fanfic #x files #william

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fragilevixenfic · 4 years

Note

If you were to give me any advice on writing, what would it be?

I have to preface this by saying that I have never considered myself an expert and I think it's one of the reasons I haven't lost my passion for it.

One of the best pieces of advice is just keep writing. Even if you think it isn't good. Even if you think it sounds amateurish or unpolished. Every sentence you put on a page is hard earned.

No sentence is a waste.

Never feel like you're being too detailed...if you can make a reader feel something with your descriptions then you've accomplished a massive goal with that alone. If you read it back and you can imagine your scene vividly then you have the foundations set.

Reread everything. Edit. There's no such thing as a bad draft...as long as your thoughts are on paper then your first draft is always good.

Maybe some of the other writers could put their own view into this one?

@monikafilefan @rationalcashew @admiralty-xfd @gaycrouton @frangipanidownunder @kyouryokusenshi @sarie-fairy @suitablyaggrieved @poolsidescientist @baronessblixen @peacenik0 @xfficchallenges

#writers #writing life #writers life #writing #writing inspiration

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audiofanficpod · 3 years

Text

Trope Series, Part Four

Slow Burn Fics

Tempest by Missy Pennington

Never Trust Atoms by Stelgibson

Today Series by @storybycorey

Arizona Highways by Fialka

Sweat and Margaritas by @anonstarbuck-blog

Truth in the Dark by @alienqueequeg

Amish Country by Lolabeegood

12 Rites of Passage/12 Degrees of Separation by Anne Haynes

What Hands Do by Mish

Universal Invariants by @syntax6

Tethered by @cultureisdarkbeer

Seventeen by @scapegrace74-blog

Laws of Motion by @syntax6

Life Series by @tatooedlaura-blog

The Art of the Game by 2momsmakearight

Apex by @syntax6

Your Place or Mine by @tatooedlaura-blog

Bearings Series by @spookydarlablack

Leap Series Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 by Donnilee

Once Upon a Time in a Basement by @storybycorey - Audio

14 Days by @kyouryokusenshi

Inappropriate Conduct by @gaycrouton

Vox Mulder: Fired and Wired by Darwin_XF

Snakebitten by @onpaperfirst

Release Valve by @slippinmickeys

Most Wanted by ViceVersa

#slow burn #afp tropes #afp trope fest #audiofanficpod #audio fanfic podcast #podcast #episode 17 #audio fanfic #audio fiction #the x files fanfic #audio fanfiction #xfiles #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #the x files #podfic

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slippinmickeys · 4 years

Text

Circle

This was for the #XFSmut2020 exchange. I had the lovely @kyouryokusenshi whose prompt was: “Post MSIV pregnancy sex. Scully’s hormones are raging and everything is tender.”

To look at her, curled up on her side in their bed, you couldn’t tell she was pregnant.

Hair fanned out on the pillow like it had been styled by a beauty team; curled about her on a wave of titian silk, her face soft, but composed -- stately in her age, but still beautiful.

He moved a hand lightly under the covers and ran it over the swell of her stomach, felt the firmness push back at him. A baby swam inside; cells dividing, constructing and nurturing, half him, half her. It felt like even more of a miracle this time though they’d done it once before. He adopted the same credo he had the last time, with William: best not to question it.

They had a firm due date. It was easy to calculate -- the vibrating psychosis of Little Judy leaving an indelible mark on not just their psyche, but their calendar, too. He remembered back to that night. Lying with her in his arms, Scully wondering aloud if he could and would find someone new to start a family with. Like he could just go to a market and select a bride. Here, this one.

Somebody else? Didn’t she know that wasn’t possible? He hadn’t been able to see anyone but her since she’d clipped into his basement office and blinded him with science.

She sniffed slowly to awareness beside him, eyelids fluttering open as she moved to put her own hand on top of his.

“‘Morning,” she rasped.

“Hey,” he said.

The morning sun shot bands of light through the shades and over the floor of the bedroom, creeping incrementally closer toward their bed as it rose.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, he leaned over and kissed her, once, twice. Breathing in the sleepy musk of her breath, the smell of hair that had soaked in a jasmine bubble bath the night before and dried on a feather pillow. He couldn’t get enough of her. Not for 25 years, not for 25 more.

“Mm,” Scully hummed as he fell back against his own pillow, and she reached out with a foot to burrow it under his calf.

She had told him only the night before how much she was enjoying this stage of pregnancy - past that miserable first stage and well on into the second trimester. How the last time she’d been so miserable missing him that even the little joyful things -- getting that first sonogram picture, feeling the first flutterings of movement -- were lost in the haze of her grief. How now she was enjoying them twofold, three. Once for herself, once for him, and once for William, who was still out in the world, connected to them by the tethers of biology and shared jeopardy.

He felt her pull her foot out from under him and then started running just her toes gently up the skin of his leg, and he cocked his eyebrows at her in question. She cocked hers right back. Right, he thought. This stage of pregnancy also came with the full flush of hormones, as likely to turn her amorous as they were to make her say “I’m turning food into a person, you get to fold laundry.”

His crotch leapt to attention. ...Leapt wasn’t the right word, he thought. Things didn’t much leap anymore, but they rose admirably to duty whenever called upon, and that was something considering this day and his age.

“Agent Scully, are you coming on to me?” his voice rumbled in the quiet of the room.

She nodded solemnly.

The nights were for passionate, sometimes desperate coupling in the dark -- but mornings were for slow, languorous bouts of lovemaking that they’d been denied so much in their lives together. This morning felt no different, the acreage of their bed laid out for exploration of each other, in the sluggish time before that first cup of coffee. He rolled toward her, nosing her cheek before darting out a tongue to taste her lips.

How strange to imagine his world with her still in it; that short, cheerful physicist with her herringbone suit and extended hand; she’d looked like a co-ed. He’d planned to launch her into the stratosphere, had known her game, with her little notes — she’d been a spy but too much of an ingenue to know it, and seven years later he’d slept with the enemy and fallen irreversibly in love with her. Or was it the other way around?

She climbed onto him deliberately, without haste, the camisole she’d slept in pulled off somewhere between his nostalgia and her lips.

“Where are you?” she asked breathily, the dew of her mons coming to rest on his thigh.

“With you,” he said, running a lazy hand up her side, grazing the side of her breast with fingertips. He was always with her, even if she wasn’t around, his internal radar tuned to her frequency like a NOAA buoy pinging in the dark.

She breathed out deeply, her hot breath ruffling the wiry hairs on his chest. A solid third of them were grey now, as were those in his beard, and he liked to think he’d earned them in the field, chasing mutants and monsters, but the bare truth of it was, he’d gotten them while pining for her like Pyramus, held at bay by a wall of his own making. The last few years without her had been tough.

At times he could see that Scully wasn’t yet used to this more thoughtful Mulder, and occasionally braced herself for his abrupt departure, his inevitable decline into a dog on a scent, falling into the habit of sisphysian search. But instead he would stand there, remain quiet and true, and she would ease back into him with her renewed faith.

She reached down and grabbed both his hands, lacing her fingers through his, and then raised his arms up and over his head. Her mouth was even with his and she took sipping kisses at them, the arc of her belly brushing against his torso.

Her curves were rounder now, more carnose than sharp, lending her an air of lushness that made his cock ache. He would take her any way he could get her, but this gravid Scully was of Nanaya, Eostre, Hedone. A fertility sculpture come to life.

She slowly ground her sex into his thigh and he chased her mouth with his own as she pulled back a few teasing inches. He longed to hold her, touch her, but he let her take the lead and slowly, so slowly, she relaxed her grip on his hands and inched down his body, the hard points of her nipples just grazing the skin of his chest as she moved lower and lower.

She shifted until her mouth was hovering over the tent of his boxers, and she flicked her eyes to his and gave him a slow, lascivious grin. He suddenly felt short of breath. She worked her fingers into the waist of his underwear and he tilted up his hips to help her pull them off.

The anticipation of her hot little mouth lowering itself onto his cock was almost more exquisite than the act itself. But then, oh then her tongue was swirling around him and the heat and the slick and the pull of her mouth was, as always, a revelation.

This woman, this woman who would shoot him to save him, who would tell off bosses and brothers and fish him out of the Atlantic. He liked to remind her that she’d been held in contempt of Congress for him, like some 70’s era Post reporter, and she’d mimic driving a snow cat and he would get quiet with the brass-tasting memory of fear. They were foxhole soldiers, brothers-in-arms, each willing to hug the grenade while telling the other to run. Their love was a devotion, a decades-long experiment in tolerance and gravity. It was the only supernatural thing he’d never once doubted.

She hummed happily around the length of him, and Mulder sank boneless into the bed, moving one hand gently into her hair, not pulling or pushing, just needing to touch her. She had one hand cupping the base of him, and her mouth slid over him like a silken sheath. He had never wanted to ask her how she’d honed her blowjob prowess, but she was an artist of the genre, a true master, a Catholic schoolgirl fantasy come to life.

Just in time to save his reputation, she let him slide out of her mouth and crawled back up the length of him, settling tightly into his side, her tongue finding the sensitive spot just behind his ear.

With a low growl he raised himself to his elbows and canted himself on top of her, situating himself between her legs, their child resting between them in the cradle of her hips. He ran a hand along her belly reverently before gliding straight home, eliciting a breathy sigh from her lips.

Her head sunk back into the pillows, the rumpled cotton framing her face which was a mask of carnal harmony, her look one of both pleasure and pain, the sock and buskin of sexual euphoria.

He rocked into her slowly but firmly, the blunt head of his penis bumping into her sensitive cervix at the apex of every thrust. God, how was he to survive this? She was humming under him, rocking her hips forward slightly with his every thrust, her ample breasts bouncing, keeping time.

He thought back to their first sexual encounter, that heady feeling of discovery; shucking off her apple green sweater and uncovering a sex bomb underneath. She’d been wanton, just a season or two past quarter life and thrumming with sexual energy. The pent up longing; seven years of such a desperate love that when they came together, it had been practically atomic.

Now, their bodies knew each other, clicked into place with ease and comfort. No less passion, but more than enough love. He flashed on an old Harry Chapin song: and the years keep on rollin’ by.

He grabbed her leg and pulled it higher and he sunk into her flesh almost more than he could bear, her pregnant flexibility wreaking havoc with his restraint.

He felt more than heard her moan, a quiet rumbling in the base of her throat and he knew that she was close. He pressed his middle finger into her mouth and she sucked it with enthusiasm, and once again he feared he might not be able to hold out long enough for her to come. With a wet pop, he pulled his hand from her mouth and reached in between them, brushing the nub at the top of her sex with his slicked finger. She jolted under him.

“More,” she whispered.

He gave her as much as he could. He always had.

When she came apart beneath him, it was purling, languid, a roll like thunder. He rode out the crest with her and then let himself release, and it felt like every promise he’d ever made to her and a few he hadn’t.

He collapsed next to her, careful to avoid putting weight on their growing child.

“How is it that we just keep getting better at this?” he asked, his face half buried in the covers, his voice muffled.

She smiled at him, a little sweat beading on the top of her lip. The cockcrow light had panned up their bed, and a slant of it shone on her hair like aurora. “Years of practice, I suspect,” she said, her brow arching at him, reflecting a sliver of light. Then her face got a small surprised look, and she reached for him. “Give me your hand,” she said.

She took his hand and pressed it to her belly, and he felt it roll softly under him, like a golf ball under the skin. He felt tears spring to his eyes.

Peace and wonder fell over him in equal measure and they lay there together, not moving as morning turned to afternoon, settling into the horse latitudes of their life.

#xfsmut2020 #x-files #fanfic #smut #soft #msr #my fic #prompt

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monikafilefan · 6 years

Text

Smut Tease

Consorting

Mulder loudly gasps while his eyes return from the back of his head. He’s barely able to set the phone back on the hook, his movements completely uncoordinated and shaky as he comes back down to earth. He has no goddamn idea what he’d just said or heard while attempting to finish his unavoidable phone conversation as to why they choose to duck out of a mandatory team building seminar.

He still can’t think straight let alone speak as the last images of Scully are now burned in his eidetic memory for life. Her mouth sliding smoothly over every throbbing vein and ridge with hollowed cheeks, sucking every last drop of life out of him as her little hand grips and pumps around his still pulsating cock.

“You know, Mulder, this goes against the Bureau’s policy of male and female agents consorting in the same motel room while on assignment,” she purrs, staring straight up from between his legs with a devilish smile, swiping a finger along the corner of her glistening lip. “I’m impressed that you were able to keep our rebellious volition from Skinner.”

“Mm...Scully, you just...that was...Christ that was unbelievable,” he stutters breathlessly while his rubbery legs tremble, her fingernails gently scraping along the fine hairs of his upper thighs.

Scully grins wider and licks the leftovers off her lips as she stares at the still slick and swollen mass of muscle twitching at eye level. “I just made Fox Mulder admit something was unbelievable,” she quips, utterly tickled at her ability to suck her partner speechless. Scully wryly shakes her head and reluctantly moves her eyes and her now aroused body away from Mulder whom is standing proud in all his bare-assed glory.

He stares at her slack-jawed with astonishment and awe. He still can’t fucking believe his partner, his best friend, had just deepthroated him while he was on the phone with Skinner. And he knows exactly why she chose that moment to mindfuck him. With her determined look on her face, and the glint in her eye as she strolled up to him and sank to her knees while deftly undoing his pants, he knew he had made a huge mistake by ditching her this time. Another Scully lesson learned; and loved!

He knows that he doesn’t want her to leave. He knows that he does want to race her to the adjoining room door before she turns the knob and press her up against it while he returns the favor. But his knees bob and his cock is completely drained, sending him the signal—a reminder that she’s in control tonight, not him. Again, he knows he owes her big time.

As Scully swings open the door and walks through, she tosses an arched brow and a glare over her shoulder. She considers saying something witty, or mean even after the way he had promised to stop leaving her behind only to insult her by doing it again. The words fuck your tower of furnitureflashes in her mind, but she’s not angry anymore, just secretly grateful she finally had the perfect opportunity to devour Mulder whole.

“I’m sorry, Scully,” he admits, grimacing with a hand moving down toward his still rather impressive dwindling erection.

Scully pauses and can’t stop the smile from spreading across her face again. “I’m not,” her honest words send a jolt of excitement through them both as she closes the door on him and the incident between them.

—

The next time he ditches her, she says and does nothing until she hears a knock on her adjoining room door where Mulder stands with that same determined look in his eye that she’d worn months earlier. His silence is loaded with penance, affection, and commitment.

And this time, when his body engulfs hers, his fingers lacing through her own, Scully’s grateful yet again for the perfect opportunity to be devoured too!

#classic mulder ditch #fanfic #paid in full #@viceversawrites #@storybycorey #@softnow #@kyouryokusenshi

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atths--twice · 4 years

Text

New story today. A little Pre-IWTB for @kyouryokusenshi who celebrated a birthday yesterday. 😊 Hope you enjoy.

Spending time alone in the Unremarkable House can sometimes take its toll on Mulder. The winter months seem exceptionally long at times and so he must find ways to use himself. Won’t Scully be in for a surprise when she gets home...

(I apologize for the long post, but the website would not allow me to post ANYTHING, and I needed to share this story. 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Snow Aliens and Surprises

February 2007

Snow crunched beneath Mulder’s feet, his cheeks cold, and his nose slightly runny. Looking at the large oddly shaped snowball he had gathered, he let out a breath, the condensed mist appearing before him. Bending down, he began to gather more snow to make the next level to his snow sculpture.

Getting it to the correct size, he lifted it onto the large snowball and set it at the right angle. One more smaller snowball was made and he placed it on the top of the other two. Shaping it and smoothing it down, he glanced over at the others he had already made, and he laughed softly.

Scully was in for a surprise when she got home.

He had been outside for quite awhile now, and he was happy with the creations he had made. Being inside and stuck at home, was beginning to wear on him and he knew Scully was concerned about how it was affecting him. She had said as much a few times, but he always brushed it off, not wanting to worry her.

After she had left for work that morning, he decided to do something different and be more proactive with how he was coping. He had gone for a long run in the cold winter air and then had a warm shower. Staring at himself in the mirror when he had finished, he had nodded and picked up a pair of shears, intent on trimming his beard down. It had gotten unruly and it needed to be trimmed and cleaned up.

Scully did not like it as much as he did, though she had not minded it as much when they had been on the run. Maybe if he did not appear too much like an unkempt mountain man, she would appreciate it more, and also see that he was doing okay in near solitude.

Going downstairs, he had made himself a late lunch and stared out the window at the snow in the yard, an idea beginning to form. Hurrying through his meal, he had gotten dressed in warmer clothing, and headed outside.

Deciding where to set it up, he had started gathering snow to create two snow aliens; snowmen being far too commonplace for their yard. Once the bodies were in their most basic form, he was now working on the best part: a large UFO.

He chuckled as he watched it taking shape under his gloved hands, gliding them along the edges, creating a curved body.

Picking up a stick he had found ahead of time, he carved one large circle around the circumference of the top, and then smaller ones under the edge he had just made. The bottom was given another continuous circle as he thinned the base somewhat, creating a beam-like look.

Smiling as he looked at his handiwork, he stepped back and began to work on the aliens. Curving their faces, he gave them a neck and shoulders before using the stick to create lines, suggesting a more detailed form to their snowy bodies. Adding dark rocks for eyes and mouths, he stepped back and grinned at the finished product.

“Yeah, that’s pretty badass,” he murmured with a nod. “It just needs one last thing.”

He walked to the steps and picked up the sign he had made from a garden stake he found in the garage. Cutting a thick piece of cardboard from an old box, he had nailed it to the stake and written in bold black letters: Nothing to see here. Move along.

Laughing again, he stuck it in the side of one of the aliens, as though it were holding it in its hand to ward off anyone interested in investigating their downed ship. Nodding at the sight before him, he took one last deep breath of cold air and trudged up the stairs, stomping his boots clean along the way.

At the door, he did so again and then unlaced them, sliding them off and leaving them outside, knowing he would need them again soon. Opening the door, he stepped inside, the warmth of the house surrounding him.

He took off his outer layers and blew his runny nose. With a shiver, he walked into the kitchen and washed his hands. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was later than he had thought, although he should have guessed by the sun setting as he finished his project.

Knowing there was no time to make anything from scratch, and God help their stomachs if he did, he opened the refrigerator and searched for leftovers he thought he had seen in there. Moving aside a large jar of pickles, his eyes widened. He grabbed the container Mrs. Scully had sent home with Scully a couple of days ago. Opening the lid, he found a beef stew that smelled so delicious, it made his mouth water and his stomach rumble.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scully,” he said quietly, as he set it on the counter and began to gather items for an impromptu fancy dinner.

Two deep bowls, cutlery, two wine glasses, napkins, candlesticks, and a tablecloth were set on the dining room table. Putting on his coat, he opened the door, slid on his boots and walked to the garage.

Searching around, he found the outdoor table and chairs set Scully had bought last September when the heat had been so awful, sitting outside in the warm humid air had been more preferable than sitting inside.

They had eaten the majority of their meals outside. Cool meals, that did not require the use of the oven, thus turning the house into what had felt like the center of the sun. Sandwiches, salads, or even bowls of cereal had been eaten at that table, both of them sweating and motionless.

Even after the heatwave, they had occasionally sat out there with a cup of coffee or a glass of wine at night, until a wild wind storm had forced them to clear the porch one night. They were put away and not used again.

Until now.

He carried them to the porch and set them up, in clear view of the snow aliens. Smiling at them, he went back inside and brought out the tablecloth, candles, napkins, and cutlery. Laying the tablecloth down, he set the table.

Leaving his shoes outside again, he took off his coat and opened a bottle of red wine. Glancing at the clock once more, he saw that Scully would be home in about ten minutes.

Perfect.

Taking out a pot, he emptied the plastic container of stew into it, to heat up on the stove. Leaving the stew on a low simmer, he poured the wine and as he set them down, he closed his eyes with a loud exhale.

“Shhhhhhhit,” he said through clenched teeth as he walked hurriedly over to his office to double check the calendar.

February 18tb.

“Fuck,” he seethed and took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.” He looked around the office and shook his head. There was nothing there that one: she had not seen before, and two: would make a decent last minute early birthday gift. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he left the room and checked on the stew.

When it was hot, he turned it off and covered it. Putting on his coat, he walked out the door and slid on his shoes yet again, and sat in one of the chairs to await Scully’s arrival.

He was not waiting long when he saw her headlights turning off the main road, pausing as she opened the world's creakiest gate, she pulled through and then closed the gate again, before continuing up the snow covered driveway.

He could hear her laughing through the window as her headlights hit the snow aliens. He looked at her as she stopped and shook her head, a huge grin on her face. Turning the car off, but leaving the headlights on, she opened the door, stepped out and walked over to inspect them.

“Hey! Can’t you read?” he called out and she jumped back, apparently not having seen him sitting there. “Move along, woman!”

“Mulder…” she laughed and he stood up with a grin, walking down the stairs to join her. “You are… too much.” She touched the sign and shook her head with another chuckle.

“They’re pretty good, huh?” he asked and she nodded. “Gotta fill my days somehow.”

“Mulder,” she said again and turned her head to look at him. “Oh… look at you.” She touched his cheeks with cold fingers and he inhaled sharply. “Serves you right for startling me.” Holding his face, she pulled him down for a kiss, humming happily as he pulled back.

“You like?” he asked, touching his trimmed beard and she nodded with a smile that made his pulse race.

Oh yeah, he had made the right decision.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and walking toward the house. Stopping at the car, she turned off the headlights and took out her bag. Closing the door, she took his hand and they walked up the stairs.

“What? What’s all this?” she asked, stopping and looking at the table set on the porch.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat and running a hand across his chin. “I made the aliens there and thought some dinner would be nice, but… my cooking abilities…”

“Are rather abysmal,” she stated with a smile and he tilted his head with a shrug, his eyebrows up.

“Abysmal seems a bit harsh, but… ehhh yeah,” he agreed and she laughed softly. “But I wanted to do something and I found some leftovers your mom sent over-”

“Ohhh. The beef stew?” He nodded and she hummed. “I was thinking about it all day, so I’m happy to hear it’s on the menu. But are we eating outside? Mulder, it’s freezing out here.”

“Psshh…” he scoffed, waving his hand at her and shaking his head. “We’ve been in colder weather, we can certainly sit out here for twenty minutes and eat some dinner. Come on.”

“Hmm. Yes, nothing better than sitting in chilly weather and eating warm stew, while the warm house is just steps away.”

“Stop.”

“Hmm.”

They walked inside and she set her bag down on the dining room chair before she took off her coat, scarf, and heels. Sighing, she walked over to the sink and washed her hands. Drying them, she took her hair down and ran her fingers through it with another sigh.

“Feel how nice and warm it is in here? And yet you’re still intent on sitting out in the cold? Are you surrrrre?” she asked, stepping closer to him and running her hands down his chest. He inhaled and looked down at her hands, before raising his eyes to hers.

“Yup,” he said, with an affirmative nod and her mouth dropped open in surprise. He grinned and smacked her ass. “Go change into something warmer and come back down.”

“Hmm. Can’t believe you didn’t pick up what I was laying down… your loss I guess.” She shrugged as she stepped back, sighing loudly.

“Nah… I definitely picked it up, I’m just choosing to hold onto it for the time being.”

“That’s all you’ll be holding onto,” she muttered as she walked up the stairs and he smiled, reaching for a bowl and a ladle.

Within minutes, she was back down, dressed appropriately for the weather, her warm boots on as she picked up the glasses of wine. Waiting at the door for him, she smiled as she opened the door and they stepped outside.

“Jesus, it’s cold,” she breathed and he hummed, nudging her forward slightly. “What about the candles? They could add some warmth.”

“Yeah, I’ll go get some matches. Sit down.”

He went inside, grabbed the matches, came back and lit the candles before he sat down and smiled at her. She rolled her eyes with a smile and picked up her spoon, wearing her black mittens with the neon alien faces on the top. He nodded at them and she shrugged.

“Seemed like the right pair to wear. Didn’t want our yard aliens to feel lonely.” He laughed and began to eat his food.

She told him about her day and asked after his. Gesturing towards the yard aliens and his beard, he raised his eyebrows. She licked her lips, her teeth grazing the bottom one as she stared at him.

“I went for a run too.”

“Hmm… are you done with your food?” she asked and he wondered if she had even heard him. Looking down, he saw his bowl was nearly empty and nodded as he looked back up at herGood,” she said in a low voice, one he knew well, as she stood up and stepped closer to him. Staring down at him, she tapped his thigh with her knee. He turned in his chair and she straddled him, his throat going dry as his pants became tighter.

He wrapped his arms around her, his fingers locking together, low across her back. Her mittened hands held his face, running up and down.

“I like your beard like this,” she whispered.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered back and she pulled back in surprise.

“Birthday?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You’re a few days early,” she said, her fingers moving slowly across his cheeks and down to his neck.

“Well, I also apparently completely missed Valentine’s Day-”

“When have we w celebrated that day?” she scoffed and he smiled.

“Maybe we should start.”

“It’s a silly holiday, Mulder. In which people are pressured to feel that their love for someone must be expressed by a card, flowers, or candy-”

“Or lingerie,” he said, with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Lingerie that they want the person to wear and not the other way around.”

“Are you saying you won’t wear the lingerie I bought for you?” She stared at him and he kept a straight face, though it was very difficult.

“Did you buy me lingerie?” He held her gaze as long as he could, before shaking his head and smiling.

“No. I know better than that.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Besides, whatever you wear, is always more than enough for me. All the colors, lace, and bows… you’ll get no complaints from me.” He thought of his favorite sets she wore: the sapphire blue with white piping, the black with the red red bow in the middle, and the lilac with the softest pink lace; they all left him dizzy and aching for her.

“What about… nude? Do you like that color?” she whispered, her mouth close to his ear and he jerked forward, holding her tighter.

“That… that so happens to be my favorite color.”

“Hmm… it’s like I have a sixth sense.”

“A… sexth sense,” he corrected her and she pulled back to stare at him. Her head fell back and she laughed, her hands on his shoulders.

“Oh my god…” she chuckled, shaking her head. “That was good.”

“I aim to please,” he teased and she stared at him, her eyes like fire.

“Hmm… and you do it so well,” she breathed and her hands were back on his cheeks, her warm breath warming his cold face. “Thank you for my birthday gift.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

“Not yet I’m not,” she nearly growled and he pulled her closer to him, her lips falling to his, kissing him slowly. Soft nibbles and light touches, which contradicted the looks of molten desire she had been displaying.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t work with an audience.” She pulled back and shook her head, causing him to frown at her. She shook her head again and looked toward the snow aliens. “Hey guys, could you read your sign and take it to heart and “move along”? There’s about to be something to see over here and I’m not quite sure you’re of age.” He laughed as he watched her address the snow aliens and wait for a response.

“I can’t understand them, but look, they aren’t leaving. I think we need to be the bigger people here.” She rocked into him and they both exhaled. “I see you're already a little ahead of me. Well, maybe more than a little.”

“Thank you.”

He grinned and she kissed him once more, before rising from his lap and standing to her feet. Collecting both glasses, she blew out the candles and he grabbed the plates as he stood as well.

The dishes made it as far as the sink, not even given the chance for a soak, before he reached for her coat, unbuttoned it and let it drop to the floor, his own soon following. A trail of clothes littered the stairs and along the floor of their bedroom.

Both of them breathing hard, he lay against her breast, marveling once more at the softness of her skin. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her heart racing beneath his ear.

“See? Isn’t it better in here where it’s warm?” she asked, her now mitten less fingers running through his hair.

“Hmm,” he agreed, his eyes closed as he kissed the top of her breast. “It’s hard to argue with such sound logic.”

“Hmm,” she echoed and he smiled. “Oh. I was, by the way.”

“What?”

“Welcomed,” she stated, offering up no other explanation. It took a second, but then he laughed and he felt her answering chuckle against his cheek. “Very welcomed, in fact.”

“Good. Then I’d say we both thoroughly enjoyed your birthday this year.”

“Hmm. Well, strictly speaking, it’s still five days away. So…” He raised his head and stared at her with a smile.

“What exactly are you saying?”

“Nothing. Just putting it out there that there are still five days to… enjoy my birthday,” she said, with an innocent shrug. They stared at each other and she smiled slowly. He nodded and put his head back on her breast, his eyes closing once again.

“Oh, but this I am saying: I want a cake. We don’t need candles and I don’t need gifts, but I do want a chocolate cake. Or cheesecake. Or ohhhhh, a chocolate pie… Mmmm.” He laughed and nodded, plans already beginning to take shape.

He had built two snow aliens and a large UFO on a whim today. He had five days. He would find her that cake, or perhaps all of her suggestions.

Find and buy, but not bake it himself. Because she had been right earlier; his cooking skills were truly abysmal.

And no one deserved that on their birthday. Especially not Scully. A woman who, oh so kindly, asked the snow aliens to take a hike.

Yeah, he would get her that cake.

And so much more.

#fanfic #msr #xfiles #love #msr fanfic #pre IWTB #Sexy banter #funny #sweet

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