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#txf fic
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laughing gas
msr, gen, humor | 1k words | ao3 | tagging @today-in-fic
Scully was in the office, catching up on some paperwork while Mulder was at the dentist. He had asked her yesterday, sheepishly, if she could drive him home after his root canal. It was so like Mulder to ask her last minute, but since it was during the workday, she didn’t have any other plans. Scully timed it so she would arrive at the dentist around the time Mulder finished up and was in recovery. He told her he was getting nitrous oxide and might be a little loopy after the procedure.
After she checked in with the receptionist, a cheerful nurse escorted her to Mulder. “Your husband’s been asking for you,” the nurse commented over her shoulder as she led Scully down the hallway.
Scully opened her mouth to correct the nurse, but then thought better of it. Most of the time, her protestations fell on deaf ears. When her and Mulder first started working together, those comments were weird, but now when someone mistook them for a couple, Scully got a little thrill, which usually turned to disappointment pretty quickly. It was what she wanted but knew she couldn’t have, so she just ignored the comments.
Mulder was in the recovery room, reclined in a leather chair, with a dazed look on his face. When he spotted Scully, he gave her a big smile. Well, as big of a smile as he could manage with a mouth full of gauze. Despite herself, Scully could feel her heart skip a beat. She knew it was the drugs, but seeing how happy Mulder looked when she walked in filled her with warmth.
“Scully!” he exclaimed; her name slightly garbled.
She made her way to his side and sat down in the small chair next to him.
“You made it!” he mumbled.
“Well, I said I would be here. It’s time to go home soon," Scully said slowly, like she was speaking to a child.
He stared deep into her eyes, his gaze a thousand yards. “You’re so pretty. You’re the prettiest princess in the castle.”
Scully wrinkled her nose. “Princess, Mulder?” She wasn’t even into princesses as a little girl and certainly not now as an adult.
Mulder appeared deep in thought and then exclaimed, “The most beautiful president America has ever elected!”
Scully had to hold back a laugh. “Yes, that’s better, Mulder, thank you.”
He kept going, “The smartest Supreme Court justice on the bench!”
This time Scully had to turn away so she could hide her laugh as a cough. She patted his shoulder, “Okay, Mulder, that’s enough for today.”
Luckily, at that moment the nurse came in with a wheelchair to take Mulder out to the car. He insisted on holding Scully’s hand during the trip through the hallway. The nurse smiled at them, still thinking they were a married couple.
“I can tell he really loves you,” she said.
Scully’s mouth dropped open, while the nurse kept going, “Some people aren’t that nice when their inhibitions are lowered. But your husband couldn’t stop talking about you and complimenting you. You're a lucky lady," she said with a wink.
A wave of affection swept through Scully. She looked down at Mulder, who seemed ready to fall asleep, and squeezed his hand. Even though his eyes were mostly closed, he still smiled and squeezed her hand back. Oh boy, was Scully in trouble now. She had been in love with him for some time now but seeing him act so sweet and happy towards her was making all her buried feelings rush to the surface in an overwhelming swarm of emotion.
Scully drove Mulder to his apartment and decided to wait around for the nitrous oxide to wear off. Who knew what kind of hijinks he would get up to without her supervision? Plus, she wanted to spend time with him and try to figure him out. In the span of a few minutes, Mulder called her smart and beautiful and whatever else he said to the nurse. Did he really think those things? Could he have feelings for her? She hoped so, because each day it was becoming harder and harder for her to hide her own feelings.
Scully let Mulder doze on his couch for a few hours, while she puttered around his place. When he finally started stirring, she brought him over a glass of water and ibuprofen since the dentist said he might experience some pain after the procedure. Mulder woke up fully and smiled at her, the same way he did earlier that day.
“How are you feeling?” Scully asked.
“Kinda tired,” he answered. “And my mouth hurts a little.”
“There’s some ibuprofen for you,” Scully pointed out and Mulder took the tablets and drank half the glass of water.
“So, I didn't say anything embarrassing earlier, did I?” Mulder asked, setting the cup back on the coffee table.
“Not really,” Scully answered, trying to hide a smile.
Mulder looked skeptical, a rare expression for him. “‘Not really’? What did I say?”
“Just that you thought I should be president. And a Supreme Court justice,” she said with a chuckle.
“Oh, is that all?” Mulder snorted, laying back on the couch. “I think just one of those jobs is more than enough. Not that I don't think you're capable, Scully.”
After a minute, he looked over at her to confirm: “So, nothing else?”
Scully decided to take a chance and said, “Well, you told the nurse that you loved me.”
Mulder shot up like a bullet. “What?!”
Scully doubled over laughing, not trying to hide it this time. “Relax, Mulder. I know it was the drugs.”
He still looked nervous. After a pause, he asked, “What if it wasn’t?’
Scully abruptly stopped laughing. “Wasn’t what?” she asked.
“Wasn’t the drugs,” Mulder responded, finally making eye contact.
“Are you being serious?”
“Well, it shouldn't be that suprising. it’s not the first time I’ve told you that,” he said.
“Yes, but you had a head injury that time,” Scully insisted. "And this time you were under the influence of nitrous oxide."
“It doesn’t mean it’s not true. And it’s a lot more than I’ve gotten from you,” Mulder pointed out. “You’ve never said anything, so I wasn’t sure…” he trailed off, looking apprehensive about what she was going to say.
Mulder was right. It wasn’t fair that she was so good at hiding her feelings that he was afraid to take a risk and tell her how he felt. Though, she thought that she had given him plenty of hints along the way. Scully got up to sit next to Mulder on the couch.
“You’re right,” she said. “I’m not good with words… and expressing things. I’m better at showing them.” Scully turned to Mulder, ready to kiss him and hoping that would convey her feelings.
As soon as she got close, Mulder leapt back. Scully was a little annoyed at the rejection.
“My mouth,” Mulder said, bringing his hand up to cover his face. “I don’t think this is a good time for a first kiss.”
Scully shook her head and laughed. Naturally, they had terrible timing. “Rain check?” she asked, starting to stand up from the couch.
Mulder tugged her back down next to him. “Where are you going? Just because we can’t kiss doesn’t mean there aren’t other things we can do.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Mulder!” she exclaimed, surprised at his forwardness.
He started cracking up at her outrage. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he insisted. “Unless…?”
She shoved him playfully and stood up. “I’m going home. We’ll talk once your mouth is healed,” she said with a smirk.
Mulder flopped back dramatically on the couch. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”
And he didn't have to - she came back later that night.
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pookie-mulder · 4 days
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My Holy Grail Fics
After the past several months of reading TXF fic, here are some of my ultimate faves so far! I’d love to know what your holy grail fics are, as well. This fandom is full of incredibly talented writers!
(Also, if have any recommendations of fics you think I’d like, send them my way!)
The Boy on the Beach by @cecilysass
I read this entire thing yesterday. Ooh boy was it a page-turner! Time travel in fiction can get dicey, but this one handles it so well. I love how the time travel plot forced M&S to confront themselves and their pasts in order to better understand each other and move forward in their relationship.
Gaslight by @sisterspooky1013
This one should come as no surprise to you. It’s rare that a fic consumes my every waking thought and I spend every free second reading as much as possible, and boy, this fic delivered. I’m such a sucker for stories like this one where the character(s) don’t know if they can trust their own minds and have to really dig deep inside themselves to find the truth.
Pause by @cecilysass
Similar concept to Gaslight as far as the amnesia goes, but totally different vibes! I love the dramatic irony of the reader putting together the pieces before Scully does. It’s agonizing in the best way!
Fall Into Place series by @skelavender
My favorite WIP fic! I look forward to reading the newest installment every Friday. I adore the slowburn, UST, teetering-on-the-edge-of-something-more MSR, and LT is the master of it! This series is filled with heart-squeezy moments that make me feel like I’m melting into a puddle of goo.
X-File #02291996 by @skelavender and @7crowsinadress
Time loop my beloved! Such an interesting (and 🔥🔥🔥) take on this trope. I can’t wait to see where it goes!
Arizona Highways by Fialka
I’m always down for an Emily AU, and this one has such a compelling, angsty twist and an air of mystery that forced me to keep reading late into the night!
Tempest by MissyPennington
I love a good survival story! There’s something so delicious about two people leaning on each other both physically and emotionally to keep going. The follow-ups are incredible, too!
All That Is Dark and Bright by @malibusunset-xf-blog
Amazing Emily AU! Dad!Mulder is my weakness. Plus, I love the way they figured out how to treat her illness. It really felt like something that would happen in canon.
I’ve Got You Under My Skin by cuits
Beautiful soulmate AU! Only M&S could have literal, undeniable proof they’re soulmates and still overthink their relationship to a ridiculous level. And I ate it up! Give me the angst! The drama! The tension!
Emily AU by skuls
Last Emily AU, I swear! This series melts your heart in the first installment, crushes it to pieces in the second one, and then makes everything better in the finale.
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scullysexual · 2 months
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You're Never Just Anything To Me (6)
@today-in-fic | ao3 | Prev. Chapter
A look into Mulder and Scully’s relationship starting from Millennium going all the way up to Requiem.
VI. Signs and Wonders.
He wakes naturally. Devoid of the usual sluggishness comes with a 6:30 start. The sun appeared brighter, what beams peak through the slight break in the curtain, unusual for this time in April.
Scully is dead weight next to him, Mulder knows even the alarm clock struggles to wake her up. She is bare and warm next to him in his bed, on a school night. He still smiles thinking of how he convinced her to stay over on a Wednesday and he didn’t need broken heaters or traumatic events this time.
He thinks about that alarm and frowns, he doesn’t remember waking up to its annoying sound.
And he quickly realises why.
08:47 glares back at him in big red letters. He stares in horror as the last digit flips to an 8.
“Oh shit!”
The relaxing morning he thought he was going to have has now been bulldozed over by panic and chaos. He pulls on his boxers and the pants from yesterday that had been discarded on the floor the night before. Still bare chested, he leans over, furiously trying to shake Scully awake.
An impossible even when they weren’t running late.
Scully shrugs his hand away from her, rolling away from him. He sighs.
“No Scully, we have a meeting today, you’ve gotta get up,” he says trying to rouse her.
“5 minutes…” she answers but the end trails off as she falls back under.
“No, no minutes.” It was 08:53 now. “You’ve got 7 minutes to get up and get to work.”
That works. She flips over, eyes wide.
“We’re late?” she asks horrified.
Mission accomplished, Mulder climbs off her and starts trying to locate his shirt.
“Yes!”
She rips back the covers and immediately darts into the bathroom, taking her neatly folded clothes with her (because he watched her fold her clothes last night and laughed at her while she did. “It’s a pointless task, Scully,” he’d told her) He couldn’t even appreciate her naked body because he was still trying to find his shirt. So much for pointless tasks…
He's found it when she emerges and it’s 08:57.
“This is your fault,” Scully says. She brushes her hair as they make their way to the elevator.
“What did I do?” Mulder asks. He spams the elevator button. “The clock was on your side, you were in charge of setting it.”
“I’m not even supposed to be here.”
When they get to the parking lot they realise their next problem.
“I don’t have time to get my car,” she says with fear.
Not that it mattered anyway. Her car was still in the FBI garage because she went home with him.
“Get in,” Mulder says, he still holds the door open for her. “Maybe we’ll get there on time.”
But it was already 09:02.
The budget staff were growing increasingly restless.
Skinner glares at the two vacant chairs. Perhaps if he burns a hole into them his two truant agents might just appear.
Of course that doesn’t work.
He looks to the clock that reads 09:09 and then back to the staff.
“I’ll see if I can locate them,” he says.
He has Kimberly call both their home phones and cell phones. All four of which go through to voicemail. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. Mulder was often late, that part didn’t concern him. It was Scully. In the six years he’d known her, she had never been late to anything, often arriving before anyone else had even got there. If she wasn’t here it usually meant she wasn’t here.
He sticks his head out into the long corridor looking both ways, still seeing nothing. The elevator doors opening grabs his attention and he sees his two missing agents fly out of it.
“We’re here! We’re here!” Mulder yells and Scully trails behind him.
First is the relief that spreads through him. They were still alive, thank god. Next, it’s frustration.
“You were supposed to be here…” he looks at his watch. “…11 minutes ago, Agent Mulder. Both of you.” Scully uncharacteristically cowers, moving slightly to hide behind Mulder. “What happened?”
“A kid got run over.”
“We got stuck in traffic.”
They both speak simultaneously. Skinner just stares at them.
“One at a time perhaps?” he says.
“A kid got ran over,” says Mulder.
“We got stuck in traffic,” says Scully.
Skinner sighs. He doesn’t exactly believe them but what cause would they have to lie. Then he properly looks at them. He doesn’t pay attention to what people usually wear but he’s sure he saw them wearing those clothes yesterday.
“A kid got ran over and we got stuck in traffic because of it,” clarifies Mulder.
“Both of you?” asks Skinner.
Mulder nods.
“Don’t you live in opposite directions? Take different roads?”
He watches as Mulder and Scully look at each other. Yep, they were definitely holding something back.
“They’re waiting for you now, sir,” Kimberly utters behind him.
The meeting Skinner remembers. He’ll interrogate them later. For now. He opens the door and lets them in. Kimberly opens the other door for all three of them. They sit down and the meeting can finally start. Skinner tries to pay attention but his focus keeps going over to the other two. Somebody asks him a question but Skinner doesn’t hear it. Is that a hickey on Mulder’s neck?
“A kid got ran over?!” Scully almost yells as she pushes her way into their office. “You couldn’t have just said what I said?”
“Next time we need to plan our excuse,” says Mulder tossing his blazer to the side and sits down in his chair. “Do you think Skinner knows?”
Scully laughs. “Skinner definitely knows, Mulder.” Scully sits in the guest chairs facing him. “Question is, when he is going to ask us about it.”
“What makes you think Skinner will ask us about it?”
Just then there’s a knock on the door. Scully goes pale. Mulder stands, tepidly making his way to the door. He lingers for a moment wishing the office door came with a peep hole.
“It’s me, Mulder,” Skinner’s voice sounds through the door.
Without any other option, Mulder opens it. “Sir,” he greets. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Skinner steps in, closing the door behind him. He stands about awkwardly. The basement always felt crowded when there was more than two people in it or maybe Scully had just become used to her and Mulder being the only occupants.
“I’m not stupid,” Skinner says and Scully clutches the edges of her seat. “I’ve heard the rumours.” Scully eyes meet Mulders. They both know just what rumours Skinner is referring to. “I need to know, off the record, for the…safety of everyone involved…Are the rumours true?”
Mulder and Scully look at each other again, each waiting for the other to proceed and take the lead.
“You can lie, of course, but I know there was no kid ran over,” he looks at Mulder. “Or traffic to be stuck in,” he looks at Scully who immediately looks away. “And your clothes and that…mark,” he looks so incredibly uncomfortable. “give cause to say that someone wasn’t alone last night. Now if it was with other people then that is your business but if you spent it with each other then, unfortunately, it becomes my business.”
Scully thinks, wondering just what she should say. There’s no point in lying, he’s pretty much sussed them out but how to confirm it was another matter.
“Off the record?” asks Mulder, he looks briefly at Scully. Of course he was doing this for her sake. Mulder’s made it clear in the past that he doesn’t care who knows about their relationship, it was always her that had issues.
“Yes,” says Skinner.
“Yeah, the rumours are true.”
Skinner looks to Scully for confirmation. She nods, smiling awkwardly. She wonders, for a second, if he might congratulate them, if he might grab a chair and exclaim ‘Finally!’, asking for all the details but one look at him and seeing his face have the faintest tint of pink covering it tells her otherwise.
“Very well,” says Skinner beginning to make his way back towards the door. “Thank you for being honest with me.” He has the door open now and coughs. “I need your expense reports by noon,” he says and it’s business as usual. “The budget staff are requesting it.”
“Of course,” says Scully happy now that that conversation is over.
Skinner nods them farewell, still looking from one to the other awkwardly, before he leaves and Mulder closes the door behind him. Listening as his boss’s footsteps get further away he turns towards Scully, grinning.
“Now he knows does this mean we can have sex in the office now?”
Scully just glares at him.
“So Skinner knows now, huh?”
They stand in the FBI garage, another workday behind them, and only one more day to go before he can finally have Scully back in his bed. They stand at their respective cars, Scully having made it very clear that she didn’t want a repeat of this morning.
“He does,” Scully agrees, tossing her bag into the front passenger seat.
“How do you feel? I know you wanted to keep quiet…”
“Honestly? Relieved actually.”
“Really?” That surprises him.
“Yeah. It feels less like we’re teenagers trying to hide our relationship from our parents and more like actual adults.” He smiles. “Besides we can’t hide it forever. Oh, that reminds me.”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t do Friday.”
His stomach sinks. “What? Why not?”
Friday is their night, what else could be so important that—But Scully is smiling, brightly, like she can barely contain it.
“I have an appointment. About my ova,” she adds at Mulder’s questioning look. “To see if it’s viable.”
“Well shit, Scully…” A grin forms onto his own face then. “That’s great. You’ll tell me what they say, yeah?”
“Of course.”
They climb into their own cars then and Mulder watches as she pulls out and drives away. His stomach twists. He was happy, of course, for Scully, she’s wanted a baby for as long as he’s known her but the thought of him being the father…His own father wasn’t very good, he couldn’t even keep his little sister from being taken. What if he’s just as bad with their baby? What if he’s just bad?
He itches to call her. He bounces his basketball instead.
It’s Saturday morning, at this time he and Scully might have just woken up, another hour would pass before they ordered breakfast, half hour before they found themselves back in bed again. It was a routine he’d gotten use to, every Saturday (unless on assignment in which case that still wouldn’t stop them) she would be here and today she wasn’t.
The ball bounces out of his hands and Mulder sits down. He grabs the case they’re currently working on- some religious thing- and tries to focus on that instead.
About 10 minutes into reading the case there’s a knock on the door. Mulder frowns, the Gunmen maybe? He walks over to it and opens it.
And there stands Scully.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi.”
She doesn’t seem distressed, she doesn’t seem angry or upset. She seems…content.
“Are you gonna let me in?” she asks with a knowing smile.
“Of course.” He pushes the door open wider and moves out the way. “I didn’t think you would be here today,” he says shutting the door and putting the latch back on it.
“I was bored.” She spins around to look at him. “I thought about calling but I wanted to tell you the news in person.”
Was it what he thought it was? Mulder makes his way back to the couch. He sits though Scully remains standing.
“Dr Parenti thinks there’s potential.”
A smile breaks out across his face. “Scully, that’s amazing.” And Scully can’t contain her own smile any longer.
“Yeah, it is. It really is.”
They stare at each other, smiling for a few minutes longer.
“Uh…Dr Parenti said we could start right away. That’s if…you’re still interested?”
His smile fades as does hers, a worried look crossing it.
“Scully, I—”
“It’s fine,” she interrupts. She bites her lip and he can see her trying to keep the disappointment, the tears at bay. She’s got it wrong. “I knew it was a big ask, I just thought…”
Mulder shakes his head, standing up from the couch and going over to her. He holds her in his arms. She still spirals.
“Scully,” he says more firmly to stop her rambling. “My answer is still yes.”
She stops suddenly then, looking at him. “But I thought…”
“Sit down. Please. I think we need to talk.”
She does so, sitting down beside him, far enough away so they can see each other easily. It’s so unusual for them not to be touching that Mulder reaches out and grabs her hand, pulling it towards him.
“Scully…I have my fears,” he says watching as his fingers circle her palm. “My own father wasn’t very good and I don’t know if I’ll be the same…”
“Mulder?” He looks up at her then, sees the love and understanding in her eyes. “We’ll figure it out together, okay.”
Because of course they will. They do everything together. He nods and she leans towards him, kissing him. Mulder pulls her closer and she sits in his lap facing him, their usual Saturday routine.
He lets himself get excited about the prospect of a baby. Wills his fears away, riding solely on Scully’s strength and belief that he’d be a good dad. He can picture it; a child with fire for hair and a forest landscape for eyes, a perfect combination of his reckless curiosity and her cautious inquisitiveness. He hugs her to him, his head resting on her chest as her hands stroke through his hair. He believes in this possibility.
Later when the sun is hanging low and she is quiet and sleepy in his arms he brings the subject back up.
“It was never a big ask, Scully.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
He’s quiet for a moment and his silence makes her look up at him.
“I guess…I think there’s a end in sight, Scully.”
“You mean with the X-Files?”
“Yeah. A natural end, not one brought on by higher ups or office fires.” He sighs and Scully hangs on to every word. “I think it’s an end of my choosing- our choosing- It feels right.”
It’s Scully’s turn to be quiet as she takes it all in.
“What about Samantha?”
He thinks of the clones, of the little girls in the field, of the visions Cancer Man handed him.
“I think there’s a universe out there where she’s happy, where she is loved.” He looks at Scully with a soft smile. “I think I can believe that. I think that’s what I want to believe.”
She smiles back at him.
“It’s not gonna stop me from going looking for Big Foot or aliens or whatever.” She laughs, affectionately rolling her eyes. “But I think the main quest, the main search…I can see an end. I think I’m ready to get out of the car.”
Scully sits up, moving to straddle his hips. Her lips touch his, kissing him slowly. The car stops and Mulder climbs out, the door locking itself behind him.
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audriesfic · 4 months
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raymond (the x-files)
"Don't stay up listening to that radio all night," Scully said. "And if you hear a ghost, no you didn't."
cancer arc. a quasi-casefile, a distress signal, a song.
@today-in-fic
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SOMEWHERE, VERMONT nighttime  
High-tide dark on the interstate. Through a swell of radio static, Mulder tried to make contact. 
DX fishing, he explained, fiddling blindly with the dial, is what they used to call it. At the turn of the 20th century, wireless transmission still new and strange, intrepid voyagers would waft out into the etheric ocean, tuning in for signs of life or anything that might come after it
“Hm,” — from Scully. He tried not to be too disappointed. He’d thought, if nothing else, the aquatic metaphor might rouse her. 
It had been long months since they’d fought over radio stations. Earlier, a crocodile rocker had given way to a golden oldie had given way to Stephin Merritt’s drowsy undertone and none of them ever given way to Scully’s demure nocturnes, to her secret thing for early Britpunk, and Jewel. She didn’t seem to mind. Too much time in the car perturbed now mostly in the form of residual chemo nausea. Her mouth stayed a closed crimped line that he’d take for disapproval if the set of it weren’t so grim.
Sometimes, he thought if he could only find the right station, Scully might open her mouth easy, and know exactly all of the words. 
But the static susurrated, unfeeling. A no man’s land beyond Burlington. The suspended lonely space between signal towers. Mulder couldn’t stand the quiet, because Scully always used to talk so smartly at him in cars. Scully used to play maniacal games of eye spy, choosing lush reds he couldn’t make out from queasy greens. Once, when a blue buggy had passed, she’d slugged him so hard he’d nearly driven them off the shoulder of the road, wincing and feeling tender toward both her stupid bigger brothers. 
Her breathing took on a forced cadence, hard through her nose. Mulder clicked the window open. Outside, night air: no birds, neither cold nor warm, just dark and piney and in here with them now. “Need me to pull over?” 
No, shook Scully’s silent head. 
Of the four times Scully had thrown up around him, three had been in the past five weeks. None had been on the side of the road. Scully made it to gas station bathrooms, and she asked politely for the keys. Mulder meanwhile waited dumbly in white-lit 7/11 aisles. He bought her lukewarm cans of Canada Dry. He carried around peppermints only to leave them rattling in cup holders. He stayed in the car and watched through the rearview so as to be surprised all over again by the resolute arrival of her, his partner, closer than she had originally appeared. 
“We’re not too far out,” he said. “We should pick up the college station soon, at least. You ever jockey in college, Scully?” 
“Only for a place on the honor roll.” 
Finally. Her trenchant alto cutting easy through the crackle of nothing. She had a voice for the void, he thought. A voice for coming in clear over telephone wires and sailor’s transmissions. Silence Prudence  Mulder could imagine her saying, Securite. Voyager. Whiskey Bravo Ten Nineteen.
(read more)
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Like the first time
Two days ago I saw All things and I still have feelings. I liked it so much.
Here's my take on how it went in that missing moment iykyk
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She didn't even remember when she actually fell asleep. One moment she was talking to Mulder about destiny and choices, the next she was feeling his arms wrap around her shoulders and her legs, lifting her off the couch.
«Mulder, what are you doing?» she whispered into his chest with her eyes still half-closed as her blanket slid off of her onto the floor. She hadn't even realized she had it on.
«I'm taking you to bed, Scully.» She heard his voice rumble in his chest. She could feel his heat through his shirt too. It was comforting.
«No… It's late, I have to go home.» she tried to reply weakly, but she didn't even believe her words.
«Don't even try it, Scully.» She imagined him shaking his head. She could have seen it with her own eyes, if only she had opened them. But she was so exhausted. She wondered how he could carry her so easily. She felt so small, wrapped up in his arms. Safe.
Mulder laid her on his bed, under the covers. The sheets must have been just changed because they smelled clean. Scully fully opened her eyes only now and realized that Mulder had already put on his pajamas. Maybe it had been longer than she'd thought since she'd dozed off on the couch.
«Mulder, I've been wearing these clothes since this morning.»
«I can help you with that.» he grinned widely, leaning down on the bed next to her. His smiles were insufferable, but also irresistible. And Scully just didn't have the strength to hold back hers right now.
«And I didn't even go to the bathroom.»
«Mi casa es tu casa.» Mulder indicated his bathroom with a broad hand gesture. «There's still the toothbrush you used the last time in the sink. If you can get past my insane way of closing the toothpaste.» Scully grimaced in response. «And I prepared one of my t-shirts for you as pajamas, if you like.»
Scully caressed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes. He was right, he had only been gone a couple of days, yet it was as if everything had changed. And at the same time as if nothing had changed.
There had always been a part of her that was afraid of making the wrong choices. First she worried about her father's opinion, then Daniel's, then Jack's. Each of them had a precise vision of what her life should have been, of what would have been the most logical path to follow. She had no doubt that Ahab was only behaving that way because he was worried about her and only wanted the best for her, yet it was something that always made her suffer. Daniel, then, had put his entire life onto her, his love for her but also his private dissatisfactions, his professional ambitions, his anxieties, his fears. He thought he knew her, but she had never been sure if he had really gotten to know the Dana of the past, he certainly couldn't have known the one of the present.
And then there was Mulder. That had respected her from the first moment, had always asked her opinion, had trusted her, had supported her in every decision she had made, had helped her save herself more than once, had seen the best and the worst of her, with whom she would even go to hell if he asked her to. With whom she had cried, laughed, discussed cannibalism in the middle of the water, spent sunday mornings in the office talking about flying saucers. With whom she had hoped to have something more and had managed to break the circle that she feared had chained them. She had tasted a passion and a light-heartedness in those months that she had never thought possible before. And with whom she had also lost so much. Even the possibility of a child.
She had always asked Mulder why he didn't stop, why he didn't want to a normal life. But maybe she was the one who didn't want a normal life. She remembered what she had thought during their first case together, as they trembled like leaves in the rain and he had convinced her of his supernatural theory: that she could do this forever.
Maybe the life with him wasn't the one she had imagined as a child. Maybe Ahab wouldn't approved, maybe if Daniel knew what her job really was now he would think she was crazy. But Melissa – God, Melissa. In that moment she missed her more than anything in the world – would have held her hand and hugged her and laughed with her, she was sure of it.
She was exactly where she needed to be. The back of Mulder's head rested against her hand as she caressed him, eyes closed, completely at the mercy of her touch.
He straightened his head and his eyes stared into hers, a faint smile on his lips. «What?» he asked softly, breaking her chain of thoughts.
She shrugged. «I love you» she smiled.
His eyes became serious and stared her for some time. Then the corners of his mouth curved up too. «Oh, brother.» he whispered.
She rolled her eyes, but they were both laughing. «Isn't that what I was supposed to say?» He took her hands in his. «I love you too.»
Scully's heart filled with warmth. She put both hands around his face and kissed him like it was their first time. She had known how Mulder felt for her for a long time, and he had known how she felt too. It wasn't a secret. They had said it silently to each other many times, they had proven it with their actions more times than she could remember at that moment. And just as many times Scully had held back on him, scared of how interconnected their lives were becoming, how much she was depending on him. She was tired of being afraid, she was tired of saying “I'm fine” when she wasn't fine. She wanted to wake up in his arms if she had a nightmare, have breakfast together at the bar, hug each other on the beach, dance with him when she heard a song she liked on the radio, make love all day like teenagers and not just for a few stolen moments.
Mulder returned the kiss and slowly they both entered under the blankets. They made love like it was their first time.
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skelavender · 29 days
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happy leap day!! does anyone want to watch mulder and scully live it over and over, then fuck about it? if so, @7crowsinadress and i just uploaded X-File #02291996, go check it out!
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unremarkablehouse · 4 months
Text
I have a head cannon that Mulder randomly sings Scully goofy parody songs out of the blue to entertain her, so this is a random ficlet,
@today-in-fic
————-
Mulder’s two fingered typing creates a slow clack that permeates the darkened office. A chilly Fall night and only a few more hours left on the budget report, Mulder smiles as he hears the familiar elevator ding and the anticipation of tiny feet making powerful strides across the concrete floor.
Scully makes a show of wrangling the food bags awkwardly, a passive aggressive hint that Mulder should get up to help; which he does even if it’s a little too slow to be of any real use.
“So did you get any work done while I was gone?”
Mulder smiles as he roots through the take out bag and proudly announces that he finished Q1 to Q3 actuals vs estimated expenses and this earns him a big Scully smile.
“Look at you working hard! I should pick up the take out more often..”
With a silly grin Mulder starts singing his own song to the tune of ‘She works hard for the money…’
“He works hard for the Scully, so hard for the Scully, he works hard for the Scully so she brings him some pad Thai…”
Scully rolls her eyes but it’s accompanied by a giggle and a smile, so the class clown takes it as a victory. From that moment on whenever Scully hears that song Scully always thinks back to Mulder’s dumb lyrics and laughs to herself.
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benoitblanc · 5 months
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ten solutions to fox mulder's problems
solution one: buy your partner a desk. not just something you find for ten bucks at the side of the road, the most elegant fucking desk you possibly can. gold-gilded nameplate, dark velvet throne. you can play battleship. she’ll sink your destroyer, and you’ll drown along with it.
(what do you do when it's your fault your partner is dying?)
read ten solutions on the ao3
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deathsbestgirl · 2 months
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hear me out. what if there was more msr kink fic (anyone have recs????)
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starwalker42 · 1 year
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febuwhump day 20: knife wound
season 8 | no warnings apply | general audiences
It’s strange, having Mulder back. She’d always known once he returned that it wouldn’t go back to how they were before; she knew, now, what he’d been hiding from her all of last year, and they had a baby (they had a baby) on the way, and he was still processing how much time he’d lost. The first few weeks were rough, but they’re through those now and… well, even if it’s not back to normal, it’s good. Strange, but good.
They’re still unsure around each other, still treading on eggshells a little, but things are getting easier. They’ve been having meals together, after she’s finished with work, and he’s been spending more time at her apartment, sprawled on her couch with her feet in his lap. Throughout their partnership, he’d always been the tactile one, but right now, he’s still hesitant to touch her, to kiss her, without permission, so she’s been helping him feel more comfortable with it. He spent last night in her bed, and she woke up this morning curled into his side realising that, for the first time in months, she hadn’t had a single nightmare.
One hand cupping the swell of her belly, she brews the two of them tea; she doesn’t drink coffee anymore, thanks to the baby, and Mulder mentioned last night that he associates it with her, now. With home. So, tea it is.
She feels him behind her.
“Hey,” he steps into her space, a little uncertain, and presses the lightest of kisses to the back of her head.
Before, he would have wrapped his arms around her waist and captured her lips with his, forced her back against the counter and made her forget all about the tea. Now, he touches her like she’s fragile, like she’ll break if he puts one finger wrong. Or, maybe, it’s a fear that he’ll break; she still isn’t sure what’s going on his head.
He kisses her again, on her neck this time, brushing her hair to the side… and hesitates.
“Scully?” His voice catches – she spins around to face him and sees a classic Mulder panic face.
“What?”
He grabs her shoulder – the most confident contact he’s made with her since he returned – and turns her again, reaching for the back of her neck.
“What’s this?”
He runs a finger across the raised scar there – the new one, the one made not to access her chip but by a frantic John Doggett to dig a parasite out of her spinal cord – and she takes a deep breath. Mulder hasn’t asked much about what the X-Files looked like while he was gone. She’d planned to break it to him slowly, but with him looking at her like that, with that fear in his eyes, she realises that’s no longer an option.
“It was on a case. I… Agent Doggett saved my life.”
She watches him fight with this knowledge, with what she knows must be going on in his mind. He still doesn’t trust Doggett, and she can hardly blame him, but she knows Mulder values her safety above all else. If Doggett was responsible for looking after her while he was gone, Mulder doesn’t really have a choice in whether he appreciates his replacement.
Finally, Mulder looks her in the eye. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there instead.”
She remembers it briefly, that awful, awful night in the middle of the desert in Utah, that thing crawling inside her, being tied down on a bed, all of it happening despite begging for her child’s life. She remembers the night afterwards, sobbing in Mulder’s bed as she apologised to him for ever endangering the last part of him she had left, for ever putting herself in harm’s way.
She doesn’t tell Mulder about any of it. She just steps forward, cups his cheek, and draw him down for a kiss.
“You’re here now.”  
@today-in-fic
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spidey-is-tired · 1 year
Text
Is it purely platonic to call me like, every night?
Summary: Mulder has a nightmare and calls Scully in the middle of the night for help.
Wordcount: 770
You can also read here!
A/N: 'sup! this is my first fic in this fandom and therefore it might not be brilliant yet but practice and all that I was rewatching s1 while writing so this may kinda have s1 vibes/be influenced by that yes the title is from a conan grey song but i just saw it on pinterest and the line reminded me of them
Her phone was ringing.
Her phone was ringing and she was going to kill him.
Scully moved her head slightly, fumbling for her phone before bringing it to her ear, “I’m going to kill you.” She hadn’t even found the motivation to open her eyes yet, but she knew she was going to kill him. A small laugh came from him on the other side of the phone, a little crackly but him all the same.
“I mean it Mulder, if this is an x-file, at—” She paused, finally cracking her eyes open to see her clock, red numbers staring her in the face, 2:47 almost burning her eyes in the inky blackness of her bedroom, “at quarter-to-three in the morning, then I’m going to kill you even more.”
“It isn’t an x-file,” He promised, pausing with a small yawn that she almost recognized from cases. It was the little suppressed yawn, where he didn’t want to reveal how tired he truly was, where he only wanted to keep talking to her about anything in particular, rather than falling asleep.
“Mulder, we have work in about five hours. Is there any way this can wait until we’re in the office?” She rubbed her eyes, letting them fall shut again after a moment. She knew he wouldn’t be talking about anything too important or work-related, or that if it was, he’d bring it up again once they were in the office.
There was a pause almost long enough where if it was any other person she’d assume they’d fallen back asleep, however this was Mulder. “Yeah, we can talk tomorrow.” Scully could hear a small smile in his voice, she could hear the odd shift in his voice.
The pause lasted longer this time, neither of them hung up, even though a sense of finality seemed to come with Mulder’s words.
“What’s going on?” Her voice stayed simple and quiet. Every night since she’d gotten home he’d found some reason to call her, some reason to show up at his apartment. She hadn’t brought it  up—neither of them had—she’d assumed it would settle and she found no need for the awkward conversation if there was no point to it.
However now it was almost 3am again, and she was so close to dozing again, lay sideways and letting her phone balance on her ear carefully so that she could remain curled up under her duvet and cozy and she needed to know what was going on with him, so that they could both finally get some rest.
“What d’ya mean?”
She knew he was likely on his couch—she didn’t think he actually even used that bed of his—and that there was a high probability that he hadn’t even changed from his work clothes.
“Mulder,” She said, almost forcing a more stern tone in her voice, hoping that further poking would get him to actually speak to her. “You know what I mean, talk to me or I’m going back to sleep.” She knew that he likely knew that was an empty threat, she didn’t care though. There was the possibility she was going to fall asleep by accident anyway on the phone to him.
Silence rang out again.
“I needed to know you were still here.” The simplicity of the statement hung heavier than anything he could’ve said and it clicked.
“I’m here.” She said, her voice returning to the more gentle tone, “I’m not going anywhere, Mulder.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” She repeated. “But I am hoping to go to sleep, however, if it’s any comfort to you, I can leave the phone on until you fall asleep. So you know I’m still here,” She suggested.
“You don’t have to Scully, I don’t mind leaving you to sleep. It was stupid and I know you’re okay—I know you’re there.” He sounded almost defensive.
“I know, but just so you can sleep.” She argued, despite having absolutely no energy to argue and hoping that he was also tired enough that he’d simply cave. He’d been plagued with nightmares as long as he knew her—probably longer—but since her abduction he seemed to be barely sleeping—if at all. She wasn’t certain this could help, but she got the feeling this would ease his worries at least slightly.
“You sure you’ll be able to sleep too?”
“If I can’t, I will hang up on you.”
“Alright,” He laughed slightly and softly, “Goodnight, Scully.”
“Goodnight, Mulder.”
She focused on his soft breathing on the other end of the line as she peacefully drifted back to sleep.
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jessahmewren · 9 months
Note
The Ship questions - Mulder & Scully, #15. 🤩👽
I was so excited when I got this ask! I haven't written for Moose and Squirrel in ages. Thank you, friend.
I hope you enjoy. This is what I came up with.
Based on this prompt list (I'm still taking requests!)
Scully watched he scenery slide by in green/blue flashes. They’d been driving for ages. Her tattoo itched, but she couldn’t discreetly scratch it without Mulder noticing, and it was still a sore spot for him.
Ed Jerse was a sore spot for him.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said to her…his rebuttal to her rightful assertion that it was her life and she could do whatever the hell she wanted. She pursed her lips, still gazing out the window as the world zoomed by. “Yes but it’s my—“ What? My what, exactly?
She chanced a glance at him. His plump lips were working on a sunflower seed. It was a disgusting habit, and she’d never had the gumption to tell him. He was spitting the shells in little cup he held between his legs.
“Jesus, Mulder. Can you toss those out the window?” Her brow was furrowed…she could feel an indescribable need to be cross with him…to pick a fight. She couldn’t scratch the tattoo, but she could do this.
Mulder looked over at her, his eyes narrowed. He made a show of working the shell out of his mouth and holding it between his lips. He cracked it with his teeth and spit it into the cup.
“No,” he said tersely. He stepped on the gas with a little more gusto, barely imperceptible, but she noticed. He kept his eyes on the road, hands tight on the wheel, little cup of sunflower seed shells stuck between his legs.
She sighed, resting her head against the window. They had hours to go, and she could use a stop…some fresh air to clear her head. Mulder’s simmering anger and annoyance at her lapse in judgement with Ed Jerse was making the confines of the car claustrophobic.
“What’s your problem, anyway?” Mulder asked her, his jaw tight. Scully whipped her head around. “I’m not the one with the problem,” she spat.
Mulder guided the car off the road and slammed it into park. He was deathly quiet. He put the cup of sunflower seeds in the cupholder, leaving the car to idle.
Scully rolled her eyes and opened the door. She paced beside it on the grassy shoulder. There was nothing but fields of green for miles…they were in bum-fuck-nowhere looking into a supposed miracle birth. Again, his idea, not hers.
She had her hands on her hips. It was hot. A bead of sweat rolled down her back, further irritating the tattoo. She heard the car door slam and closed her eyes.
“Talk to me, Scully.”
She whipped around, hands balled into fists. She was vibrating with so much pent-up anger she wasn’t even sure she could form words. Mulder stepped forward, closing the space between them. He was wary of getting too close, so he stood looming over her. He was so stupidly handsome and tall, she thought. It only pissed her off more.
“What did you mean to say, Mulder. 'It’s my what?'” She looked up at him, eyes softening a little. The sun was behind him, and it threw his shadow between them. “What claim do you have over me? We are work partners. That’s all.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched, and if she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought he was still eating sunflower seeds. But they were in the car, which was still idling.
“I thought we had an understanding,” he mumbled in that sultry bedroom voice of his. It made a different type of heat unspool in her belly.
She pursed her lips, mouth turning down at the corners. “I don’t know what you mean, Mulder. You’re not making any sense.” Her anger had abated. She was tired. Hot and tired.
Mulder, closed the distance between them, a large hand on her upper arm. His hazel eyes were darker than usual. He spun her around, pressing her front to the side of the car.
“Lemme see it,” he gritted out. “I want to see it.”
Scully swallowed, pulse racing. “Mulder—“
His fingers toyed with the edge of her shirt, asking for permission. She swallowed. “Go ahead,” she said tightly. “If that’s what you want.”
She felt the warm breeze hit her skin as he lifted her shirt in back. He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants, and she couldn’t hide the little gasp that escaped her lips.
He pulled them down just an inch, revealing the ouroborus.
She was trembling. She had her hands braced over the car’s hot metal roof. The burn on her palms distracted her from the burn between her legs.
Mulder thumbed over it, gathering the sweat that he collected there. He pursed his lips. “It’s peeling,” he said dispassionately.
Scully swallowed. “Yeah,” she said.
Mulder stared at it a few more moments before he pulled her shirt down. He placed his hand on her back, a small press of apology. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I take a lot for granted. I take you for granted,” he muttered.
Scully held her breath. She pushed off the car and turned around to look at him. His eyes were wet. Her previous anger had left her drained and shaky. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “Come on Mulder. Let’s get back on the road.”
Mulder nodded. His long strides took him to the driver’s side in just a few steps. Before climbing in, he took the cup of sunflower seeds and poured them out onto the ground. They were back on the road without a word, miles of green farmland stretched out in front of them.
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scullysexual · 10 months
Text
Five Times Mulder and Scully Shared A Bed (1/5)
i. Irresistible.
Mulder places the phone back on the receiver and trudges his way back to the car where Scully waits.
“Anything?” she asks, half asleep, as he enters the car. Scully leans against the seat, eyes fighting to stay open, her face still cut and bruised from her encounter with Pfaster. She should be home now but there were no flights available until tomorrow.
“Nothing,” Mulder answers with a shake of his head and a sorry smile. “But the manager was helpful, at least. He found another motel not too far from here that says they have rooms.”
“Let’s try there then,” Scully says tiredly.
A No Vacancies sign flashes neon at them as they pull into the parking lot. Mulder bashes his fist against the dashboard, anger, frustration and his own tiredness coursing through his body. He looks over to Scully, who’s face has also fallen at the sight of the sign.
“Maybe we should ask,” she suggests.
They undo their seatbelts and try their pitiful luck.
“Sorry, no space at the inn,” the manager from behind the desk calls as soon as they enter.
“We can sleep in a barn if you have one,” Mulder half jokes yet part of him remains serious if it means he can stop driving.
“Seriously,” the manager says.
“Seriously,” Mulder repeats back. “You don’t have anything?”
The manager’s eyes fall onto to Scully who lingers near the door, staying out of the way. His eyes frown.
“What happened to her?” the manager asks unceremoniously.
Not wanting to get into it, Mulder avoids the question.
“We were told you had rooms and based on all the empty spaces out there, I think you do.”
Clearly not getting his answers, the manager sighs and pulls open a drawer.
“I have one,” he says, throwing the key on the counter. Mulder quickly grabs it. “One,” the manager specifies. “The door is busted but if you’re that desperate you can have it.”
Mulder turns to Scully to gauge her opinion but she looks too tired to care.
“We’ll take it.”
It’s the lock that’s busted, it turns out but with the windows locked and a chair up against the door, they make do.
The room is just a room. A bed and a little corner table. That’s all. There’s not even a bathroom.
“Sorry I couldn’t find anything better Scully,” Mulder says whilst eyeing up the floor- his sleeping space for the night.
“It’s fine,” Scully mumbles. She’s already pulling back the covers on the bed.
“Could I have a pillow?”
Scully frowns. “Why? The bed is big enough for us both.”
Mulder pauses. He considered but after everything… “Are you sure?” he asks.
A pillow is thrown at him.
“Do whatever you want, Mulder.”
He looks at the pillow, then at the floor, then at the bed. A questionable stain on the carpet makes his decision for him and he makes his way to the unoccupied side of the bed.
He thinks nothing of it until he’s laying next to her. Sharing a bed with Scully. He can feel the heat from her body, her presence, her smell. He becomes aware of how big he is, how much space he just might be taking up. He moves to the edge, just to be sure she has enough space.
He’s so tired he can’t sleep. Scully’s breath evens out beside him and he’s envious at how quickly she can fall asleep. Then he repents that envy as it’s replaced with guilt. She’s just been through hell, he recalls.
Mulder shuts his eyes, wills his body to relax and let the sleep overcome him. He’s teetering on that edge when something touches his arm and he’s yanked from that almost slumber. He looks down to see Scully, her body curled around him on his little edge, all the space behind her. Her breath against his bare arm is soothing, little rhythmic puffs off air set up a gentle beat for him to fall asleep.
When the light shining through the see-through curtains wakes him up, Mulder panics when the space beside him is cold and empty. They took her again, is his first thought and he rips back the covers to haphazardly throw on his clothes and track her down.
The door opens and Scully emerges with a soft smile. The cuts not as red, the bruises not as new. He relaxes at the sight of her, throwing his own little smile towards her. He realises then how he slept the whole night through, she didn’t wake up- or at least he didn’t hear her. Did he ignore her cries, he wonders.
“How did you sleep?” he asks, his stomach knotting at the thought of her answer.
“Very well actually,” she answers, a little frown forming across her eyebrows as if she too has just realised she didn’t wake.
He thinks of how she curled up against him, her breath against his arm calming him down. Did he calm her too?
“We should go,” Scully says and Mulder realises that she’s dressed already. “The manager says there’s a flight to DC.”
Mulder nods and collects his clothes off the floor. He walks into the communal bathroom to get dressed, a smile on his face.
@today-in-fic | ao3
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danascullysjournal · 9 months
Text
Eternity
An X Files ficlet. Post Revival.
TW: Death, Severe Angst.
____________________
He changed.
It was imperceptible at first. Strands of his hair began to mirror clouds on an overcast day, and his face and hands were slowly peppered with darker spots. She called them freckles. He let her. They both knew it was a lie.
Her hair kept the same sheen, and her pale skin freckled, as it always had, but was never taken over by the aging blemishes that most women feared. He noticed smile lines begin to settle in a bit deeper, but not for age. She simply had so much more to smile about with him. It showed.
As the years had passed, his changes became more magnified. His stride, once hindered only by his desire to help her keep up, became smaller. Less sure.
She retired. To spend more time together, she said. Neither of them spoke of the finite nature of his life, or the infinite nature of hers. It would cut too much. Instead, she packed picnic lunches and laid the blanket under the gnarled tree. Clouds passed overhead and changed from one thing to another. Just like him.
The day came when he shuffled. She shortened her stride to match.
Food lost some of its taste. He didn’t want much anymore. She prepared his favorites the best she knew how, adding extra butter. More protein. And pies, homemade, filled with love. He tried to eat, for her. His lack of appetite stifled her own.
They grew thinner together. She cried quiet, happy tears that at least in this, she could share some of his experience.
He slept more. She sat beside him, her fingers curling through his thinned, cinder-flaked hair. He smiled and nuzzled into her as he slept, a child in an old man’s body. She told him stories of strange creatures, of a man hungry for truth and adventure who was willing to sacrifice everything.
“It’s you,” she said. But he knew that it wasn’t, anymore.
The day came when his heart wanted to stop. She found him on the floor, and she fell down to his side. Her compressions on his chest were a hollow, desperate prayer. She couldn’t bring herself to stop.
She watched his lips grow pale through blurred tears.
“I want to come with you,” she said.
Only his eyes could answer. “I know. I’m sorry.”
She watched him slip away, an old man in her immortal arms, and she cursed a future void of the only person that mattered.
The clouds over the cemetery were gray like his hair, cold like his lips. The sky opened, pouring rain over the headstones and the fresh earth above his body. She remembered Bellefleur and starlight, finding ghosts in the darkness, and she sobbed, begging him to find her in this darkest eternity.
________________________
Author’s note: I’m sorry 😭 I couldn’t get it out of my head so I wrote it down. I maintain Scully is NOT immortal and none of this actually happens
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sapphirebones-ao3 · 4 months
Text
warning buzz
read on ao3
Rating: Explicit
Chapter 2/3
Summary:
With all her layers of perfectly tailored suits and heavy kevlar stripped away, she arches into him like hands in prayer, and he feels born anew, awash in the holy water of her. Her, her, her.
Tagging: @today-in-fic (hope this is okay!)
“Take–” she gasps, trying to catch her breath between his bruising kisses “ –take it off, Mulder” his hands span higher up her shirt, sliding it off and onto the floor.
His hands can’t get enough of her, her cold porcelain skin heating under his touch. He wants to map every inch of her, investigate her like the forgotten files deep in the archives of the Hoover building, he wants to mark and highlight every mole and scar and blemish on her canvas of a body. His tongue runs down her jaw, suckling at the spot under her ear, earning him a whimper. 
He continues his exploration, feeling almost like his younger self at Quantico studying the human body, learning its weak spots. Jugular, clavicle, sternum. Her heart flutters under his tongue like a hummingbird, and all he can think about is how delicate and birdlike she feels in his arms, under his mouth. With all her layers of perfectly tailored suits and heavy kevlar stripped away, she arches into him like hands in prayer, and he feels born anew, awash in the holy water of her. Her, her, her.
Scully’s puffs of breath encouraging him further, he runs his fingers along the edge of her bra, sliding underneath and lightly feeling the mound of her breast– he skirts higher, grazing the edge of her nipple, feeling it harden under his feather-light touches, and he shudders. “Scully–” he catches his breath, lifting his mouth from her skin, “Scully, can I see you? Plea–” she takes his head in her hands and bends down to kiss him soundly, “Mulder, you’re the only one who’s–” her mouth chases his lips like a ship to shore, “ –the only one who’s ever seen me.”  
She makes quick work of the clasp on her bra, Mulder’s hands following her movements. His mouth makes its way to her breast before the cups even hit the carpet, and he tests the weight of the other with his free hand, the cast digging into her skin. 
She knows it’ll probably leave a mark, a scratch from the gauze, but that only makes her squirm harder. She wants this to feel real tomorrow, wants to have a reminder that it wasn’t just another spore-induced dream, she hopes the next time she showers, that the scratches sting under the boiling hot water.
The sensation of his mouth laving over one nipple while his hand plays with the other is almost too much, and she arches and heaves underneath him, her bare skin coming into contact with his still clothed chest. “Mulder. Mul–” she tugs at his shirt and tries to push him back, he sucks harder and she lets out a strangled whine. “Mulder, I want to feel you.” She manages to pant out, and he lifts his head up to give her his signature smirk, licking over her one last time to make her jump.
She helps him out of his shirt, struggling with the sling, and he takes the opportunity to look over his work on her chest, its once white expanse covered in red blotches and tracks of saliva. She looks beautiful like this, panting and wanton, and he lifts his gaze up to look at her, noticing her staring. 
“Scully, you’re amazing.” he whispers. 
She hums and runs her hands up and down his chest, fingers curling in his chest hair and rising up to his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck. He kisses her forehead and lifts her off his lap with one arm curled around her waist, he revels in the feel of her, the weight of her in his hold. Setting her down underneath him on the couch, he goes back to charting her skin with his mouth, nipping and sucking at every inch of flesh he can reach. Venturing lower, running his tongue into her navel, following her iliac crest lower still, he gently kisses along the edge of her trousers and skims his hand under the band, before resting his head on her stomach.
“Can I take these off?” he asks, breathing the words into her skin, “We could still stop if you wanted to.” he adds, looking up at her, eyes half-lidded. 
“Mulder, if you stopped right now I think I’d shoot you again.” she says, moving her hands into his hair.
“I trust you. You don’t always have to ask.” she continues, running her fingers down to his jaw, letting her thumb skim his lower lip. He presses a sweet kiss to its pad and lets his eyes droop closed, contentment washing over him like a honeyed balm.
“I just want– I want you so much, Scully. I don’t want to rush this.”
“I think seven years is enough time.” she smiles softly, taking his hand and guiding it to the top button of her jeans. 
Their intertwined fingers make short work of the button and zipper, each scraping tooth ringing out in the silence between breaths. Mulder’s cast digs into her again and it sets her alight, she pushes him away slightly just to shimmy her pants down to her knees, and kicks them off the rest of the way. 
“Please, Mulder.” she sighs, bringing her hands up to his jaw and pulling him up for a deep kiss before letting him go.
To Mulder, this all feels like a dream. He can’t believe she’s letting him touch her, much less like this. His hands envelop her thighs and he barely suppresses a groan as he sees the gusset of her panties soaked through to the outside, he grinds his own pelvis down into the couch’s worn leather to relieve some of the pressure in his jeans, he feels like a seven year ticking time-bomb down to its last moments. 
Taking a deep breath to pace himself, he glances up at Scully one last time for confirmation, her slight nod giving him the go-ahead he needed. His good hand trembles as he pushes it under the fabric, the tips of his fingers coming into contact with her trimmed curls, damp from the slickness just below. He thinks he could come right then and there if this were just his fantasy, but she’s right there beneath him, panting and trembling in anticipation.
“Fuck– Scully–” he breathes, his fingers gliding lower and into her folds, he maneuvers his body down the couch and brings his head between her legs. Uncomfortably setting his cast on the outside of her thigh, while his other hand works to remove her panties, sliding them down her legs. 
“You’re so wet.” he murmurs, trailing his thumb slowly from her perineum all the way up to her clit, resting there and making her flinch. His index finger flutters against her opening, before finally pushing in. He feels her clench against him almost immediately, and it makes him dizzy.
She arches her pelvis into his hand, her breathing growing ragged as he starts thrusting, adding another finger and burying them to the knuckle. Her panting fills the room as an awe-filled Mulder catalogues every new sound and move she makes under him. Her walls flutter around him when he curls his fingers like this, he earns a whimper when he circles her clit like that.
He lifts his eyes to watch her and sees her eyes close and eyebrows crease beautifully, and, though he’s sad to no longer see the sky blue of her irises, he’s amazed he’s causing her to look like that. “Mul– Mulder I–” she manages to gasp out, and he can tell she’s close. “I need–” 
They’ve known each other for so long that he can understand her most minute expressions, an eyebrow raise or a quirk of the mouth could substitute entire conversations, he’s never had this kind of connection to another person. This little trick comes in handy, now.
At her gasped out plea, he moves his mouth to her and laves his tongue over her folds, slowing his fingers but curling them harder against her front wall. His mouth envelops her clit and he feels her entire body shudder, her hips rising up to meet him and her thighs clamping around his head. She tastes like bread, and salt, and something so uniquely Scully he feels like he can’t get enough of her. His tongue circles her clit in time with his thrusting and suddenly little choked moans fill the air, and he feels a gush of wetness cover his chin as she finally unravels. 
When her shaking finally subsides, and her thighs are no longer crushing his head, he withdraws his fingers and presses a kiss to her clit, before wrapping his arm around her lower back and lifting her up to sit on his lap. He kisses her closed eyelids and the tip of her nose, so overwhelmed by his love for her he can barely comprehend it. 
She falls against his chest, and he takes the opportunity to slide his arm under her knees, supporting her back with his injured arm as he stands from the couch and brings them both to her bedroom, pulling back the covers and depositing her like a princess onto the bedspread.
Scully. Naked. In bed. With a blissed out expression. Looking up at him. 
She motions for him to come join her, patting the spot beside her and he sidles in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck, breathing her in. Her hands drift to his and she threads their fingers together, bringing them up to her chest and holding them there before turning to face him. Her eyes roam over his face, seeming to file every mole and line she can find there for future reference, jumping from one freckle to the other like skipping stones.
Scully kisses him then, gently tilting her face up and lightly brushing her lips against his, her fingers coming up to run through his hair and rest on his cheek.
“Hi,” she says, softly, as if speaking too loud would break the whole world in two.
“Hi,” he replies, kissing her once more before pulling her closer against him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and tilting her head up once more, “you’re incredible, you know that?” he breathes, punctuating his words by trailing a finger from her ear to her jaw. 
“You are too, Mulder.” she answers, pulling him even closer to emphasize her point, they fit perfectly together, forms interlocking like puzzle pieces, and she feels the weight of 7 years of yearning in their embrace. She presses a kiss to the wiry hair of his chest and moves to lock her knee between his thighs, before coming into contact with the denim fabric of his jeans.
“Why are you still dressed?” she asks, incredulously, pulling away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes. He’s blushing, she notices, his tawny eyes struggling to make eye contact.
“I uh– ” he casts his eyes downwards, mumbling,  “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I–” his hands span from her waist to her shoulders, holding her there and sighing  “I’m still, y’know… hard.” he sighs, his voice trailing off. He clamps his eyes shut, cringing.
A pause.
“And that’s bad?” Scully’s voice cuts through the haze of his thoughts and he opens his eyes to find her staring at him, eyebrow raised, as if he’d just asked her to believe another one of his crazy theories. 
“Mulder, I don’t know how your previous romantic encounters have been but, when a woman lets you make her come, and then lets you take her to bed–” she pauses for emphasis, taking his chin in her hand and making him lock eyes with her, “–she probably wants you to fuck her.”
“You would classify this as a romantic encounter, Scully?” he replies, flashing her his signature grin and winking.
“Mulder, you’re crazy.” she smiles, and leans in to his kiss.
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skelavender · 4 months
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mulder and scully’s wedding rings and scully in her wedding dress to celebrate their super platonic, just bros wedding in kind of perfect! read chapter 3 here, or below the cut!
Mulder is more excited then he’s let himself be since Scully proposed. He’s buzzing out of his skin, and hoping that it doesn’t show. He doesn’t want Scully to think he’s nervous.
“Are you nervous?” she asks from her seat in their office. They’re both still in their suits, acting as if it’s a normal workday, and not the fifth Wednesday since they got engaged. As if it’s not their wedding day. 
“Hmm?”
“Are you nervous?” She repeats, “You’re all jittery. It’s not too late to call it off if you don't want to do it.”
“I do,” he says quickly, “I’m just finding it hard to focus. I mean, we’re getting married in less than an hour, Scully, don’t tell me your attention is entirely on that autopsy report.”
She smiles, “It’s not.” She closes the folder and puts it to the side. “Do you want to get going early?”
He rises, “Absolutely.” At the door, he offers her his elbow and she places her hand in the bend, familiar. “You ready for this, Mrs. Spooky?”
She gives a full laugh, “Yes, I am.”
They both grab garment bags from their cars and walk the three blocks to the courthouse. Mulder hadn’t mentioned anything about the tux, but Scully isn’t entirely surprised. He’s treated this with the same weight she is. It’s no small thing. 
They change quickly in the public restrooms and meet back in the lobby. When they tell the clerk they are there for their civil ceremony appointment, she asked about their witness.
“Do we… need one?”
“I mean, technically someone here could do it? But people tend to prefer a friend or family member to sign their marriage licenses.”
Mulder and Scully share a look. 
“Should we…” She starts.
“Probably.”
“I mean, he’s the only other one who is supposed to know.”
“I’ll call him.” He nods.
“It’s really no trouble for someone here–” the girl says, but Mulder cuts her off.
“It’s fine, as long as it’s okay for us to wait ten minutes?”
“Of course.” She says. 
He and Scully step outside as he dials Skinner’s office.
“Skinner,” the man says when Mulder goes through.
“Sir, I need you to meet me and Agent Scully at the courthouse and to not ask questions.”
“Agent Mulder, I can not bail you out of jail.” Skinner replies immediately.
“Is that really your first thought?”
“With you? Yes.”
“Well neither off us have been arrested, we just… need a favor. It’ll only take half an hour.”
“And what’s the nature of this favor?”
“It’s… personal. Just a signature. Nothing big.”
Against his better judgment, Skinner agrees. 
***
Walter Skinner is not an idiot. He knows they're in love. He also knows that both of them are too damn stupid and too damn professional to do anything about it. He hears the whispers, knows that everyone else in violent crimes is so sure that they spend their days in the basement office in a haze of sex. But Skinner knows better. He sees the hesitance in Mulder's touches, as if he's afraid that the contact could be rejected at any moment. He sees how Scully soaks his touch in like she doesn’t know if or when she’ll get the next drop. He sees how they gaze at each other when the other is looking away. Or, sometimes, when they’re looking directly at them. 
So, when he arrives at the courthouse to see Scully in a white dress and Mulder in a tux, he shouldn’t be surprised. 
“What is this, Agents?” He asks, despite knowing exactly what it is.
“We’re getting married.” Scully says, “As a contingency. We need a witness, if you would be willing, sir.”
“A contingency? For what? Is there a threat you haven’t told me about?”
“A lot of things,” Scully says, “It started because of hospital visitations, medical decisions. The more we thought about it, the more sense it made.”
“You realize that if you’re in a relationship, you can’t be partners anymore?”
“We aren’t in a relationship, sir,” Mulder interjects, “It’s just paperwork. Less than changing wills, and next of kin, and power of attorney, and everything else.”
The look on Skinner’s face can only be described as long-suffering resignation. “You know what, sure.”
Scully looks mildly surprised and looks up at Mulder, “I thought that would take more convincing.”
“I don’t have the time or energy to ask all the questions I have, Agent Scully.”
***
Bartlett, as an officiant at the Moultrie Courthouse, has overseen many marriages. He loves his job. He loves seeing the looks people share when they bind themselves to their love. Loves seeing the happiness spread across their faces. 
This couple is no different. 
They walk in side by side, not touching, with their witness following close behind. Bartlett introduces himself by first name, and begins the ceremony when they confirm that they are ready. He says the same words he always does. They forego vows, saying that it would take too long.
He believes them. He’s seen couples take upwards of half an hour each. He saw them a couple months later for a divorce. Long vows do not a happy relationship make. 
But these two aren’t like that. They’re the type he would imagine said everything they needed to in private, not wanting to spend anyone else’s time on it, or to let them see that intimacy. Where they hold hands, the woman’s pointer finger reaches out to play with the hair tie on the man’s wrist. 
By the time they get to the important part, they haven't broken eye contact once. 
Bartlett focuses on the woman, “Do you, Dana Scully, take Fox Mulder to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.” She says, with a peaceful smile. She slips the ring onto Fox’s finger. 
Bartlett turns to the man, “And do you, Fox Mulder, take Dana Scully to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.” He replies, "All that and more." His voice is rough with withheld emotion. He places the ring on her finger in turn.
Bartlett smiles, and says his favorite line. “By the power vested in me by the city of DC, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
The man takes his now-wife in his arms and lays a kiss on her forehead. In comparison to other ceremonies Bartlett has performed, this is odd, but when he sees the smile on her face and the tears brimming her eyes when she looks up at him and kisses his cheek, any spot of concern is wiped from his mind.
These two really, really love each other. 
***
After signing the final paperwork, the trio heads back to the Hoover building. Mulder and Scully have changed back into their work clothes, the sound of their half enthusiastic, half exasperated back-and-forth just as it usually is. Mulder’s looking into some possible sex demon in Nevada. Scully emphasizes that it’s in Vegas.
Skinner wouldn’t be able to tell it had ever happened, if it weren’t for the glow. 
As they part ways in the lobby, Skinner turns to them. “Have a good day, Agents. And a word of advice? If you don’t want anyone to know, perhaps take the rings off in the building?”
As the elevator closes, the last thing Skinner sees of them is mutual surprise, and Scully quickly working the ring off her finger and opening her jacket to place it in the inside pocket, a spot he’s seen her pat absently the past couple months. He huffs a laugh once the doors close. 
Mulder, slightly delayed, only starts to remove his ring when Skinner leaves his sights. Scully’s hand on his stops him just after it passes his first knuckle. 
“If just one of us wears it for now, it’ll probably be safe. We could stagger it, no one will notice. If… you want to.”
Mulder meets her eyes. She just looks… vulnerable. As if giving him permission to publicly wear his promise to her would be a favor to her, and not one of his deepest desires.
He slips the ring back onto his finger. “I do.”
She smirks, “I’m getting the strangest sense of deja vu. Have you said that to me recently, Mulder?”
“You know, I think I might have.”
With poorly restrained smiles, they make their way back down to the basement. 
***
A week passes, and every day Scully shows up to work with the ring burning a hole in her pocket. Mulder wears his proudly. When it catches the light, she looks at it with jealousy. 
She’s terrified of it. Not being married to Mulder, there’s no part of her that could ever regret or fear that, but of being found out. Wearing rings is an unnecessary risk, one that could lead to an end of their formal partnership, but it’s one that would feel disingenuous not to take. She wants to wear his ring. She just wants to remain partners with him more. 
Her fear comes true about a week into their marriage. She’s in the bathroom when Agent Driscoll approaches her as she’s washing her hands. 
“So Agent Scully,” She says, “Your partner has been the talk of the office recently. He has a wedding ring now.”
Scully’s heart skips a beat. She schools her expression the same way she does when talking to a particularly skeevy suspect. Nothing can bother her. 
“Yes he does, Agent Driscoll.”
“No one in the office seems to know anything. None of us were at the wedding. No one even knew he was seeing somebody.”
“Are you close enough to Agent Mulder to expect to be invited to his wedding?”
“Well, no.” She admits, “But you are. Were you there?”
Inside, Scully is screaming. Outside, she is fixing the swoop of her hair with a damp finger. She decides to tell the vaguest possible truth, “I was.”
“Well?”
She looks at Driscoll now, “Well what?”
“Who did he marry? Do you know her?”
“Yes, quite well.” Scully says. Better than anyone, as a matter of fact.
“Oh, come on, Scully. Spill. Everyone’s wondering.”
“My partner’s private life isn’t mine to discuss.” Scully clears a final nonexistent smudge of makeup from under eye. She sweeps out of the bathroom, managing to avoid any more of Agent Driscoll’s questions, and does her best not to sprint back to the basement office. 
When she makes it back, she leans against the closed door and tilts her head to the ceiling, eyes closed, waiting for her heart to stop thumping in her ears. 
“Scully, you alright?”
She opens her eyes and stares at the dimpled drop ceiling. “I just got cornered by Agent Driscoll in the bathroom.”
“About what?”
“You.” 
His eyebrows shoot up, “Me?”
Scully pushes off the door and moves to lean against the edge of Mulder’s desk. “You and your wife. People have noticed your ring.”
“My… oh. Shit.”
“Mhmm.” Scully agrees.
“Do you think I should stop wearing it?” His voice is small, soft.
“No. It’d be more suspicious to stop wearing it now. I’m just not sure when it’ll be safe for me to start wearing mine.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.” She grabs his hand, runs her thumb along it. “I would if I could. It feels… unbalanced this way.”
“It’s alright, Scully.”
She disagrees.
***
When Mulder gets home that evening, he finds a large envelope with “Do Not Bend” crammed into his mailbox. In his apartment, he inspects the contents, and immediately calls Scully. 
“Hello?” 
“Scully, I need you to get over here.”
“What’s wrong?” 
“I need you to make sure I’m not hallucinating.”
“I’m on my way.” The call clicks to a close. 
She opens his door without knocking a mere 15 minutes later. When she steps in, she does so like she’s approaching a wild animal. 
“Mulder?”
“Scully look at this,” he says from his spot at the table, “tell me this doesn’t say what I think it does.” He holds the paper out to her. 
“Our marriage certificate? Mulder, we planned this in advance, you can’t act as if we did it while drunk in Vegas.”
“No, here.” He points to the line with the officiant’s signature. “Scully, tell me we weren’t married by a man named Bartlett Tiddlywinks.”
“Oh, my god.”
“Yeah.”
Their eyes meet, and they simultaneously burst into uncontrollable laughter. 
***
The following Monday, Mulder jumps up from his desk as soon as Scully opens the door. “I have something for you.” He trips in his haste to round the desk and approach her.
“Good morning to you too, Mulder. I had a wonderful weekend, thank you for asking, quite relaxing.” She stops her ribbing when she sees his closed fist, fingers down, held out  to drop something into her own hand. She places an open palm beneath his, and he drops a gold chain into it. When she picks it up, it’s long. Much longer than her usual necklace, or any others she owns. 
“It’s for your ring.”
Scully’s eyes snap to Mulder’s. Her mouth forms a surprised O.
“I was thinking about it over the weekend, and it makes sense, doesn’t it? You can still wear it, but this way you don’t have to worry about taking it off for autopsies. It’s long enough that it’ll lay under your shirt, no one will notice.”
“Thank you, Mulder.” She says absently. He’s right, it does make absolute sense. She doesn’t know why she didn’t think of it earlier. “That’s… very thoughtful. Thank you.”
“Of course, Scully.” He rests his hand on her arm, and she places her own on top. She reaches into the inside pocket of her jacket and withdraws the ring from its usual home to place it on the chain.
It’s Mulder’s turn to be surprised, “I didn’t realize you had been carrying it around.”
“I kept the old one in me too, in case I… needed to use it. Unexpectedly.” She slips the ring into its new home and holds it out to him. “Help me put it on?” She requests, even though the chain is long enough for her to clasp before slipping it over her head. She wants him to place the ring where it’s going to stay, so sue her. 
He takes the necklace and she turns around. He brushes her hair off her neck uselessly, and Scully does her best not to shiver at his light touch. He lifts the chain around her head and clasps it. When it’s on, the length of the chain places her wedding ring squarely between her breasts, in the perfect spot to hide from prying eyes. She turns back around to look up to Mulder, and leans into him for an embrace. He holds her tight, and presses a kiss into the top of her head. 
The stress and fear of potentially being separated melts away from her in his arms. It’s her favorite form of peace. 
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