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baronessblixen · 4 months

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O Holy No (10/10)

Today's prompt: elf on the shelf proposal

Summary: It's Christmas morning. (wc: 1,152)

Tagging @today-in-fic

“Mr. Mulder is Santa!” A child screams, and then a chorus breaks out, and someone tugs at Mulder's sleeve while another child jumps up on the couch with him and Scully. What a way to wake up.

“What is going on?” he asks groggily, staring into a young child’s face. Freckles, red hair, and a very familiar nose. She must be a Scully, but he’s forgotten her name.

“Santa came,” the girl says in awe. “I think,” she trails off, taking a deep breath, “I think he brought a bike.” Mulder’s heart swells watching how excited the child is. Maybe one day he and Scully... he doesn't have the time to think of what if's and possibilities, because this girl isn't done interrogating him.

“Are you really Santa?” she asks him, her expression showing the familiar skepticism.

“Maybe,” he says and the girl’s eyes grow wide.

“He’s not Santa,” one of the older kids says. “He’s Aunt Dana’s boyfriend.”

“Auntie Dana is married to Santa Claus!”

“Hey Scully,” Mulder says, while the kids start looking through the gifts, the adults filing into the living room, not even half as excited as their offspring. “Did you hear? We’re married now.”

“Hm?” She’s barely awake, cracking open an eye. How she slept through all this is a mystery to him. She can sleep anywhere, anytime – and through everything. It makes him fall in love with her just a little bit more. After last night, he didn’t think that was possible. The gift she gave him means more to him than he could put into words. And then there was what she said to him. I love you. She said it, the three small words. The jury is still out on how they’ll cope once they’re back in the real world, away from this candy cotton-flavored fairytale they’re living. But he’s hopeful. He’s a believer.

“Let’s get some coffee, hm?” Mulder helps her up and leads a sleepy Scully into the kitchen where they meet Mrs. Scully.

“Good morning, you two.” She and Mulder exchange a smile, Scully goes straight for the coffee. “Do you have any idea who did this?” Mrs. Scully asks and points at the kitchen table where an elf sits with an engagement ring in his hand. She’s looking at him as if waiting for him to admit that he’s the one who put it there, ready to ask Scully for her hand in marriage. For once, he's completely clueless.

“Um,” is all that he gets out. Scully, now with a cup of coffee in her hand, joins him and almost chokes.

“Mulder?” she asks, her voice squeaky.

“No,” he says quickly. “It wasn’t me. I swear.”

“It was me,” Bill says, walking into the kitchen with Matthew in his arms. Both father and son look like they didn’t get much sleep. “I had some help from my own little elf, right, Matty?” The boy grins up at his father.

“You’re already married,” Scully says

“I know, but I-” he trails off when Tara walks into the kitchen. Mulder just watches the two of them, a smile appearing on his face. “There she is,” Bill says, reaching for her hand. Tara comes cheerfully, giggling, and exchanging looks with the rest of them.

“What is happening here? Why is our elf on the shelf holding a ring? Bill?”

“Tara Scully, I want to ask you to marry me – again. We had to get married so quickly last time because I was leaving. This time I want us to have the big wedding you always dreamed about. Our son will be there, and our families. What do you say?”

“Oh, Bill.” She throws herself at her husband and her son who squeals in delight. Mrs. Scully, teary-eyed, joins in. Mulder pushes Scully towards her family and she goes willingly. He just watches the moment, glad he was able to witness it.

“That is the best Christmas gift you could have given me,” Mulder hears Tara whisper, crying openly. He wants to quietly slip away, thinking he should leave them alone now. Someone grabs his arm and to his surprise, it’s not his Scully.

“I’m hoping you’ll be there, too. When Tara and I get married,” Bill says. “As my sister’s date.” Mulder swallows hard and nods.

“I’d love that. Congrats, by the way.” Bill gives him a handshake and a nod. Maybe one day they will manage a hug. Looks like this won’t be the last time he’s present at a family event.

“So,” Mulder says later, with Scully tugged into his side on the couch, the Christmas celebrations going on around them. “Your brother invited me to his wedding.”

“He did.”

“It was a cute proposal.” He’s not going to ask her any time soon. Or maybe ever. He knows he wants to spend the rest of his life next to her. They don’t need the party or the paper. “Hey, maybe at the wedding we can investigate the case of the stolen purple dildo.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Scully chuckle.

“You’re not going to give up on it, are you?” she asks him, her head against his shoulder.

“Have you ever known me to give up?” he jokes, but when she turns to him, she’s serious.

“No,” she says. “I haven’t. It’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

“What are the others?” He’s grinning. He can’t stop. If he could, he’d preserve this moment in time. As if reading his mind, Mrs. Scully and her new digital camera find them. She’s smiling when she asks him to sit still so she can take a picture. Mulder puts his arm around Scully and grins. This is the first of many. Maybe he’ll frame it and put it up, too. Just like his picture of Samantha.

A part of him will always peek into the past, remembering his little sister. But he can commemorate this too. His and Scully’s love; a slice of happiness. He doesn’t know what’s to come, but he’s ready for it. Scully smiles at him, kisses his cheek, and giggles, mumbling something about him being scratchy. And Mulder laughs, too, the happiness just bubbling up inside of him.

Tomorrow they’ll face the world again. Mulder knows he’ll have to talk to Diana. Make her see and understand that all he’s interested in is her friendship. If she won’t listen, he’ll let her go. While spending the day with Scully and her family, Mulder gets an email with a possible new case. He shows it to Scully and he sees the interest flicker in her eyes. But that’s for later. He shuts off his phone and Scully raises an eyebrow.

“The only person I’d want to hear from today is currently giving me an adorable look.” She kisses him, laughing against his lips.

This is, without a doubt, his favorite Christmas ever.

#ficmas2023 #oholyno #i did it!!!#thank you for reading <3 #means the world to me #cause this was something new for me #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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laureliciousdefinition · 2 years

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Wicked Game | pt. 3 | Javier Peña X Reader

Summary: a special visitor comes to town and throws things awry.

Rating: as always, 18+! Minors will be blocked!

Warnings/tags: smut, masturbation, infidelity, no use of y/n

A/N: woot woot part 3!! Thank you so much to everyone who read the first two parts and gave them so much love, you all deserve the world!! This chapter is specially dedicated to @iamskyereads because she has been SO supportive and amazing of this story. Everyone go love on her, her works are amazing!!!

Part 1 Part 2

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“Hey baby.”

Your husband’s voice rang through your ears, the first time hearing it in person in over four weeks. It was just as soft and unemotional as you remembered; honestly you were shocked that he’d actually followed through with coming to visit. A part of you wondered if it were perhaps at the pressure of his father, who had always held a soft spot for you. It was most certainly not at the insistence of his mother, whom upon learning of your travel to Colombia declared you an ‘abandoner’ and said that you ‘ruined the life of her son’. Regardless, he was here, in your apartment, and it made your skin crawl.

He pulled you into a hug, which you returned with loose arms. “Hi honey,” your voice was muffled into his chest.

You pulled out of his arms awkwardly, and he left his hands on your shoulders. When he leaned down to kiss you, it took all you had not to wince and instead return it as if you were a normal, happy wife, happy to see her husband in her normal, happy marriage.

The kiss was quick and chaste, something you were thankful for, but you knew more likely than not he was going to expect sex later. Why wouldn’t he? That’s what married couples do, right?

“So? Tell me how things have been for you down here, I wanna see all your spots around town. My little journalist,” those three words were tacked on with a patronizing air, further punctuated by him grabbing your chin gently.

You gave him a dry laugh. “Oh well, uh… I don’t have many ‘spots’ here because you know… the drug war, and all that.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Oh, right.”

The silence in the room didn’t just wash over you, it made you feel like you were drowning. You had to get out of this apartment.

“We could go see my office,” you rushed out.

Unaware of your pounding heart, he smiled at you. “Let’s do it.”

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“So that’s Elisa, she’s one of the receptionists and probably my favorite,” you explained quietly, leading your husband through the reception area. Technically, you didn’t have to come in today, but you had garnered a reputation for being a bit of a workaholic, known to potentially haunt the office at any hour regardless of shifts.

He hummed in response, nodding slowly.

“Over there are all the photography folks. A bit snobby if you ask me, but we need them.” You lowered your voice even more for that fact, knowing if the photo people heard you they would launch into their spiel about how photos are what really tells the story.

Once you rounded a corner to a long hallway with several doors and a litany of unflattering florescent lights, you paused at the first door.

“And this is my office,” you told, pulling out your keys.

In journalism, you knew you had to be quick on your feet. You had to be able to roll with whatever punches were thrown your way, change stories at the drop of a hat when new information was discovered. This was a skill you prided yourself on in your career.

But when you opened the door, the last thing you could’ve expected to see was one Javier Peña, leaning against your desk, fiddling with one of your pens.

It felt like all the blood drained out of your body, the forty year old carpet soaking it all up. You were sure your skin had gone ghostly pale and your fingers, still wrapped around your keys, felt like they were made of air. In the back of your mind, a voice called out to you, telling you to get it together, and you stumbled through the vines twisting around your brain for a response.

“What are you doing in my office?” You coolly asked, willing your heart to slow the hell down for the second time that day.

Javier was, somehow, extremely calm, the only hint of anything being wrong was a clench in his jaw. He pushed himself off the desk and picked up a manila envelope that had been placed next to him.

“Forgive me, ma’am. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just have some new files for you from our offices and I was told to deliver them.”

His eyes shifted between you and the man next to you, who seemed to have no emotion over this interaction outside of a confused tilt of his brow. “Elisa let me in to wait. They’re… confidential.”

You knew the story was a lie, of course it was. He was faster on his feet than you ever could be and played it off. You’d told Javier that your husband would be coming sometime that week, and that he couldn’t come to your apartment, so he took it upon himself to go to your office. Briefly, your mind flashed to an image of you bent over the front of the desk, fingers desperate gripping the edges, while Javi held you down and drilled himself into you relentlessly. No, you shook the image from your head. Absolutely not. Not while he was here.

“Oh. Alright.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself. “Well… thank you, sir. If that’s all, then you can head back.”

It made your chest ache to be so flat with Javi. He always made you feel so vibrant and alive, yet now you stood across from him, trying desperately to keep your eyes from searching his because you knew there would be too much emotion swirling in them for you to comprehend.

He moved towards the door, hand brushing against your lower back as he slipped past you. He stopped in the doorway for a moment.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” He gave you a tight-lipped, almost smile before turning to your husband. “Sir.” He nodded curtly before turning and making his way back to the front of the building.

As he walked away, you tried -and failed- not to focus on the way your skin burned from his touch.

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That night, when Javier arrived back to his apartment, he immediately stalked to the kitchen to make himself a drink. He felt like his brain was spinning and he needed it to stop as soon as possible.

How could he have been so reckless? He knew your husband was coming to visit. He knew you weren’t going to be alone for the next two days. Yet he couldn’t resist you; he felt like a hormone-wrecked teenager, getting into whatever stupid situation he could all for the sake of attention from a pretty girl. But it was more than that- you weren’t just some pretty girl, you were the most beautiful and complex woman he’d ever laid eyes on. You were irresistible to him and he almost risked blowing the whole thing because he had to see you.

He knew better than to get attached to people. It always ended up hurting someone, though usually it was him doing the hurting. Seeing you walk into the office with the lunk of a man you call a spouse made his heart- no, his entire chest- ache. Because even though you didn’t truly love that man any more, he was still the one you married. Not Javi.

The sharp ringing of a phone drew him from his pity party. He wasn’t sure who would be calling at this hour; Pops had gone to bed hours ago, and he knew Steve was busy playing house with Connie and the new baby. That only left one reasonable option.

“Periodista?”

“Javi,” you breathed out, voice crackling through the phone.

He felt his heart flip once more. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be with the old ball and chain?” The man mentally kicked himself as soon as he said it; he knew you didn’t need his bitterness right now.

Thankfully, he heard a scoffing laugh. “Said ball and chain is currently passed out in my bed, taking up the entire thing. I had get out of there, so I’m outside right now.”

Javier took the time you spent explaining to grab his drink and settle into the small loveseat that had come with the place. “Sounds fun,” he said after a sip.

“God, you don’t even know.” You kept your voice quiet. “Am I allowed to say that I miss you? Or is that off limits?”

He couldn’t help but smile at your timidness clothed in a joke. He knew it was wrong, but hearing that you weren’t happy your husband was there filled him with a sense of pride.

“That depends. How bad you miss me, baby?”

He knew you were rolling your eyes with a smile at that. “Very badly.”

Your tone was still small and his heart squeezed at it. He wanted nothing more than to pull you to his chest and stroke your hair until you fell asleep.

He sighed. “Yeah.. I miss you too. Even though it’s technically only been a few hours.”

You laughed at that. “The office doesn’t count. I was too busy picking my jaw up off the floor to miss you.”

“Sorry about that,” he answered with no conviction.

“No you’re not.”

He heard it in your voice. A switch had flipped, there was only one direction for this to go and it made something stir in his belly.

“No, I’m not.”

Thankfully he couldn’t see the way you shuddered at the low, raspy tone of his voice.

You hummed into the speaker for a moment. “You like almost getting caught. I bet you wish it had gone further.”

Images flooded his mind of you, bent over the desk, riding him in your swivel chair, pressed up against the door. He tried to keep them at bay but they were pushing through his already weak barriers.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it too, you’re just as dirty as me.” He attempted to realign and get the upper hand. “Maybe even worse. You’re a filthy little thing.”

You giggled. “Please. I bet you’re hard right now just at the thought.”

“And what if I was?”

There was a moment of silence. You were clearly hesitating, trying to decide if you wanted to cut this off or not.

“If you were… I would tell you to touch yourself for me.”

Javier truly felt like he was going to combust in that moment. Your whispered words sucked all the air out of his chest. He squeezed his cock through his jeans in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that had been quickly mounting. Was he really going to do this over the phone?

“Touch yourself for me, Javi.”

His resolve snapped. He was most definitely going to do this over the phone.

“O-okay.” He stuttered out.

Shifting the phone so it was pressed between his ear and his shoulder, he lifted his hips up to pull the tight jeans down. His cock sprang free, already aching from your simple words. He gave himself a tug before focusing back on the phone.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, tone low and sultry.

Javier’s eyes closed as he leaned his head back on the couch, hand beginning to slowly stroke.

“Thinking about how we could’ve fucked right there in your office.” He bit out. “I would’ve taken you right there on the desk.”

“God, that sounds nice. I would’ve loved that.”

His breathing was already picking up. “Yeah, I bet you would’ve. You would look so pretty for me, all spread out. Pretty little pussy begging me to fuck it.”

“Mmm-hmm. You love getting to wreck me, huh?” You asked with a teasing lilt. “Getting to show me who I belong to.”

That sent a whole new shock of pleasure up Javier’s spine. He was beating himself off faster, loud enough you could hear the slapping of skin through the phone speaker. There was just something about the possessive nature of your words that never failed to short circuit his brain. He knew you weren’t a possession, he didn’t own you. Your husband definitely didn’t. But he wanted to, in the sense that he could keep you safe from all the bad things in the world.

“Tell me- fuck- tell me who that pussy belongs to.”

He was already getting close, not bothering to edge himself tonight after being so tightly wound post-office encounter.

“Baby, please. Tell me. I need to hear you say it, I’m so fucking close.”

In a different light Javi would be embarrassed at how desperate he sounded. He was begging, through a phone, for you to tell him what he needed to hear. But there was no room for shame when he heard you practically purr your response through the speaker.

“It’s all for you baby. All of me.”

That was it- he came all over his hand and thighs, a loud, unabashed moan leaving his chest. He pumped his cock through the waves of pleasure, more cum spurting out of him than usual.

He hadn’t told you this, and likely never would, but in the almost two weeks you’d known each other he’d stopped seeing his girls from the brothel. It felt dirty to do so- ironically, like he was cheating. He knew you weren’t together and realistically, you probably didn’t care about his modes of relief, but just as he didn’t want to share you with anyone else, he didn’t want to share himself with anyone except you.

“Periodista, you’re going to be the death of me.” He said with a deep sigh.

Once again he heard you giggle. “Oh, stop. You love me,” you said playfully.

He knew it was a joke. You meant nothing by it.

But that didn’t stop him from squeezing his eyes shut and feeling his insides twist.

“Yeah, yeah.” He said after a moment. “Go back inside. Gotta get back to the mister.”

A sad sigh escaped you. “Yeah, you’re right.” He heard you open the creaky door before you whispered into the phone, the quietest one yet.

“Goodnight, Javi.”

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#javier pena x reader #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #narcos smut #javier pena imagine #wicked game #thank you so much to everyone who has read this srsly I love you so much #means the world to me #mwah

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