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sirowsky · 2 years

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The Lost Island

Chapter 16 - Parted Ways

Summary: You're back on the island, trying to figure out what the hell is going on, whilst suddenly standing face to face with people you've lost and grieved. Meanwhile, Marcus lands in a heap of problems of his own.

Author’s Note: My head genuinely does hurt after having spent all day wrestling with this one. I do know how to complicate things for myself, but I love this story all the same, so I hope you'll follow me through the magical mystery tour :)

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Cursing, angst, time-travel-headaches. Word Count: 4761 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

Marcus stepped out of the gateway straight into his own kitchen, and immediately called out for Missy.

“Whoa, dad. What are you shouting for? I’m still right here.”

She came from the living room, holding her index finger in between the pages of a book she was reading, and when she spotted him, her face turned puzzled.

“Hey, how’d you get changed so fast?”

He registered her questions while he stepped closer and pulled her into a hug, but he didn’t really clock the significance of them.

“What? I was wearing this when I left.”

“Uh… right. Are you feeling okay, dad?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re alright. How long was I gone this time?”

She pulled back to look at him, and he turned his head down to meet her eyes but kept his arms around her.

“What are you talking about? You haven’t been anywhere for like three weeks. Not since that thing with the beetles in Australia.”

He huffed a laugh, certain that she was joking. But her eyes told a different story. At that point, he noticed that her clothes were wrong too, and that Anita should’ve been there. He let go of her and staggered backwards, further into the kitchen, feeling panic gradually build internally as he struggled to absorb the implications of that, if it was true. Because the unnatural beetle-infestation had happened over two months before the plane crash, which would mean that the crash wouldn’t happen until another six or seven weeks.

“No… no, no, no… that can’t be.”

He rambled to himself while he tried to find today’s paper, only to discover that it was indeed full of headlines that he already knew, and that the date was almost five months in the past. Desperate to believe that it was some trick or mistake, he turned on the tv in the kitchen, which was usually set to a news-channel, but it was the same thing. He even recognized the phrases and the way they were delivered by the news-anchor in the studio.

“No… I was thinking of the same moment! It should’ve brought me back to the same moment…”

“Dad, you’re kinda freaking me out.”

He abandoned the tv and went to kneel in front of her.

“Sweetheart, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but was I in a plane-crash recently?”

“No! I think I’d remember that. What’s going on?”

Unable to keep his frustration in, he got up and started pacing, trying to think it through while mumbling to himself.

“Shit… This is bad. It brought me back to before it all happened… but why? What am I supposed to do here? Nothing important happe-…”

He stopped pacing abruptly, when something even more frightening hit him.

“Oh, god, where the hell did it drop Pita?”

“Wait, you’re working with Ace? On what? And why? You hate working with her.”

He turned and just stared at Missy for a few beats. Because she was right. In this point in time, the two of you were still bitter enemies, and if he went to HQ, he’d likely find you there, doing your normal job. Unless the portal had sent you back here too.

“Miss, I’m sorry, I gotta go to work, and you’re coming with me.”

“Fine by me. Someone needs to make sure they scan your brain while you’re there.”

Once at the Headquarters, he went straight for your office, to Missy’s unending disbelief, but you weren’t there. He took a quick peek at your itinerary and saw that you were scheduled at a meeting with Ricky, so he headed straight for R&D and Ricky’s office, stomping in without even knocking. And sure enough, there you were, but it took less than a second for him to see that it wasn’t his version of you. The harshness in your frame, the tight set of your jaw, the glacier of ice that met his gaze when he sought your eyes, all of it so familiar, and yet it now seemed to be hollowing him out, emptying him of everything that was warm and safe. Both you and Ricky froze when he invaded your meeting, but it only took you a moment to regain your focus.

“You’re interrupting a security briefing, Moreno. So, unless it concerns a serious threat; get out.”

He couldn’t move. Seeing you like this, so cold and hateful towards him once again, after everything you’d shared, tore his heart to pieces, stinging and flooding his eyes with tears. He knew that it might just be temporary, that the portal might’ve just dumped him here for a while so that he could accomplish something, and that his Pita was still out there somewhere. But his love for you had become as integral to his being as Missy was, which made the pain that he felt in that moment, as real as anything had ever been. Because right then, in that time, you didn’t love him back, and nothing he said would make you believe that you ever could. So, what if it wasn’t temporary? What if the crash and the island would never happen now? What if that timeline, that specific chain of events, was the only way that you could ever learn to love him…

“I know you’re not deaf, so unless you step outside right now, I’m gonna make you.”

“S-sorry… I’m… I’m so sorry.”

He should’ve backed away, but he just couldn’t. Unfortunately, though, this version of you had never seen him heartbroken, and assumed that he was playing some angle, because of course, he couldn’t actually be this emotional from just seeing you.

“Whatever game you’re playing, I’m not in the mood.”

You got up and came towards him, clearly intending to shove him out of the office, but as you got closer, he suddenly didn’t care that you weren’t his Pita. He needed to hold you, just one more time in case this was his last chance, as it was beginning to dawn on him that he had no idea what the portal was doing, or what it might have planned for him. He’d always known that he was utterly powerless against it. But it had seemed to be on your side all this time, so he’d trusted it. But now that trust was breaking, and with it, so was his hope. Desperate to cling to whatever piece of you still existed, in any timeline, he met you as you came at him and ensnared you in an almost bone-breaking hug.

“Oof… Marcus, what the hell?! Let go of me!”

“I should’ve stayed. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have run through like that, we should’ve crossed together…”

It wasn’t you; he still knew that. He knew that this Pita would have no idea what he was talking about, but he needed to say it, in case your souls were linked somehow. In case some part of you could hear him, across space and time.

“Crossed what? What’s wrong with you?!”

“Dad, you’re being really creepy… just let her go.”

Missy’s words made him feel terrible as he realized how invasive and unwanted his closeness was. He let go of you, instantly backing away, out of the office and as far as the corridor would let him without losing sight of you, breathing heavily against the sensation of his chest crashing in on itself.

“I wish I could explain… I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

“Dad, wait, maybe Ricky can help you.”

Hearing her, the man got up from his desk and came out to the corridor, making Marcus realize that he’d completely forgotten about him.

“What’s going on, Moreno?”

He laughed, but a little hysterically, as he stared at the expert scientist, and he felt like he was being defeated somehow.

“I’m being thrown around space and time by a sentient black rock… I think it wants my help to prevent the complete annihilation of Earth, but I have no fucking idea how or why it brought me here… only that you guys are living five months in the past, from my perspective.”

All three of them just stared at him at first, but Ricky was quick to recover.

“Why don’t you come with me to my lab, I’d like to take a look at you.”

Marcus laughed again, this time with absolute hopelessness.

“There’s no point. I already know what your scan is gonna say, which is that there’s a spatial anomaly around me that you can’t explain. I wish I could stay and indulge you, but I need to try and figure out what the portal wants me to do before it’s too late… so that I can get back to my time.”

He glanced at you, before adding:

“My people.”

None of them said anything more, although Ricky looked like he was thinking hard, while you still looked about ready to punch him, so he turned to Missy.

“Sweetheart, I need you to stay with Ace, okay?”

“But, dad…”

“I’m not the version of your dad that you know. I need to get back to my time. As soon as I do, your Marcus will come back. I think.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not sure that I do either… but it’s gonna be okay.”

He tried to make himself believe it, so that she would too, before he picked her up and hugged her for a long moment, and when he set her back down, he looked at you.

“I hope you won’t remember any of this, once it’s over. But if you do… just know that I’m not your enemy.”

“In your time… we’re friends?”

You sounded just as incredulous as he’d expect you to.

“In my time… we’re a lot more than that.”

He didn’t wait to see if your face would contort with disgust, he just turned away and left without another glance back.

<><><><><>

The wind was so loud that you couldn’t hear anything else, as you plummeted towards the ocean, having no clue how you’d survived this the last time and therefor no chance to replicate it. But there was some comfort to the knowledge that you had survived this before, and should be able to again, even though it was hard to feel anything but panic as you watched the deceptively soft-looking surface close in on you. You noticed the pod of orcas just before you made contact with the sea, suddenly terrified that you might hit one or more of them, which would surely kill both them and you. But just before you hit the water, something seemed to flow over your skin, almost like the softest silk, barely even noticeable when it just brushed against you. Whatever it was, it was beyond your control, but it had to be what ultimately saved you, because as you were pummelled against the surface over and over again, before you eventually dropped under it, no bones broke. No limbs were torn or thrown out of their sockets. You knew that you’d been knocked out for a few seconds at least, the last time, but this time you managed to stay awake, which also meant that you felt the multiple impacts, and it wasn’t pleasant. Thankfully, you hadn’t hit any of the whales, and just like last time, Whelma soon came to your aid, which was good because every muscle was screaming in pain. Had it really hurt this much last time?

“Hey, girl. I missed you… but I wish I hadn’t been forced to come back. No offense.”

She came right up to you, nudging your hand as you reached out to her, as though you were old friends, making you wonder if she could somehow remember your last visit. Perhaps cetacean brains had some natural resistance to space-time trickery.

“I need to get to the creepy-ass island this time too. Can you help me?”

She turned to position her side next to you, so you could clumsily get your sore body up on her back, and then signalled the other four orcas to join her. You assumed it was the same four that had been with her the last time, and it all felt like déjà vu. You hoped that since you hadn’t wasted time on first travelling for hours in the wrong direction this time, you’d get to the island much faster, and tried to think back to what you knew had happened that day. It was the day that Marcus had nearly destroyed the village, before his failure prompted the Ozsha to send the tsunami, and he’d stopped them by discovering his new abilities, killing ten of them in the process. God, this was infuriating! You’d already done all this, already made so much progress since this day, and now it was all undone and you had to start over. What the fuck was the portal trying to accomplish with this? You hoped with everything you had that the damned thing had at least sent Marcus to the correct time, and not back here where everything was just terrible. You’d already forgotten how hard it was to ride a swimming whale, through currents and waves, but at least this time you managed to stay on for the whole ride. Getting to the island did take much less time now, so the sun was still halfway up from the horizon when you disembarked and prepared to swim the final few yards to the beach.

“You’re a gem, Whelma. I hope you won’t have to fight this time.”

You pushed away from her and headed for the warm sand, stepping up on dry land to find the beach intact, meaning that the wave hadn’t happened yet. So, you took off running towards the village, to warn them. But you’d forgotten how traumatic this day had already been for them. The roots and the acid having destroyed many of the houses, leaving most of them wandering around, assessing damage or dressing wounds and checking each other over. You ran into the area to find a horrid-looking Marcus talking to Akela, and your heart jumped. Partly because you were relieved that this was old Moreno, meaning yours was likely back safe with Missy, but also because you hadn’t thought about the fact that you’d see the Chief alive again. It hit you like a gut-punch to suddenly see his bright and insightful eyes turn to meet yours, after noticing how all colour drained from Marcus’ face as he caught sight of you first.

“Mana… Praise Kãne and Kanaloa, they brought you back to us.”

Oh, how you’d missed that voice. How you wished that you could’ve just talked to him for a bit. Tears filled your eyes as you stared at him, struggling to believe that this was real for the first time since the portal had dropped you back here. You closed your eyes against the tears and shook your head for a second, trying to keep yourself sharp and alert.

“Chief, listen to me, you have to run. The Kaiaka are sending a giant wave that’s gonna level everything in its path and I don’t know how long we have.”

You had no idea how to convince the one super available that he had the power to stop it, since he wouldn’t have discovered his new abilities yet, but as it turned out, that was far from your biggest challenge. Because in that moment, the only thing that Marcus was capable of focusing on, was the fact that you were alive. That he hadn’t killed you. You remembered all too clearly how this regret and shame had weighed on him.

“Pita… I-… I’m s-so sorry…”

In your timeline, you hadn’t seen him until after he’d had a chance to begin healing himself from the Ozsha’s manipulation, so to meet him now, to see him still so raw and hurting so much more than he’d ever allowed you to see, was breaking your heart. He might not yet know how important he was to you, or you to him, but you had to try and take that pain away from him, it was too devastating to witness. You closed the small distance between you and trapped his chest against your own, ignoring the persistent ache from your bruised body, holding him as tightly as your arms would allow without constricting his breathing. He seemed understandably confused at first, and reluctant to touch you, whether because of the state you were in, or his surprise at you apparently wanting him to. But he soon surrendered to the sincerity of your warmth, wrapping his arms around your back and holding you as gently as a delicate butterfly. Grief rippled through him, tearing unwanted sobs up through his throat, and he buried his face against your neck, trying to muffle them, all while his hands kept moving, from your waist to the backs of your shoulders and down again. As if he needed to make sure that you were real and not some apparition. You wanted to explain that it wasn’t his fault and that you knew why all of this had happened and what it would lead to, but how could he ever believe it without experiencing it for himself? And if he didn’t experience those things, would the future you knew even come to pass? This was so fucking complicated! Why did it have to be time-travel?!

“Mana, where have you been? Where did you find these new clothes?”

Oh… crap. How to explain that little nugget. You pulled away from Marcus, who surprised you by not letting go of you, instead trailing his hand along your arm, down to your hand and holding on to it as you turned back towards Akela to try and answer his questions.

“That’s hard to explain right now, Chief, and time is not on our side.”

He slowly came closer, keeping his eyes firmly locked with yours, and you sensed that he was seeing more than anyone else ever could.

“I think you mean that time is not on your side. Am I correct?”

How he was able to somehow see that just by looking at you, was incredible, but you still had no idea exactly how much he understood, so you tried to tread carefully.

“Yes, but I don’t know why.”

You flinched when your peripheral vision alerted you to a movement next to you, and turned your head to find his mother, Koa, suddenly standing there. You’d forgotten how utterly unnerving she could be. But you’d also forgotten how powerful she was, in her own way.

“You are Mana. That is why you are here.”

Just like the only other time you’d heard her voice, it stunned you with how clear it was, but also with the uncanny sense that something was being passed into you, through her words. It hit you like a car doing a hundred miles an hour. How had you not figured it out earlier? Mana. Spiritual power. This… all of this, being brought back here, at that precise moment before you hit the water, it was to help you understand how powerful your own soul really was. It wasn’t some unknown power or ability that had saved you from being torn apart, it was your uniquely strong soul, reaching out and borrowing a little extra strength from Whelma and her family. Managing to boost itself just enough to cocoon your body in a tougher shell than your usual aura. Just enough to save you from breaking any bones or cracking your skull open. And that momentary connection probably explained why the orca seemed to understand what you wanted as well. But what the heck did your soul have to do with stopping the spores? Right on cue, now that you’d apparently done what it wanted, the portal appeared before you, and everyone else literally jumped away from it, except for you and Koa. You sighed heavily and let your head fall into your free hand for a moment, before looking up at the fucking thing again.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

As usual, it just stood there, always in motion but also somehow so permanent. So inescapable.

“Why do I need to know more about myself in order to stop what’s coming? How will that help anything? I don’t understand what you’re trying to do…”

Marcus hadn’t let go of your hand even though he’d jumped back as the portal appeared, and now that he saw how familiar you were of it, he came closer again, tightening his grip on your hand as if he was afraid that you’d vanish. A sharp pinch bothered your chest at the thought that his fear was about to come true.

“Pita, what is that? What’s going on?”

There was no use in telling him. Either this timeline would revert to normal after you disappeared, which would mean he’d soon learn all about it, or this timeline was forever corrupted, in which case you couldn’t know anything that might happen.

“I’m not where I’m supposed to be. I have to go.”

“No, you can’t. I-…”

He tugged on your hand as he spoke, urging you around to look at him, but then cut himself off when he realized that he didn’t actually know what he was trying to say. It was almost as though your connection to your Marcus was bleeding into this one the longer you were around him, because the Marcus you knew would never have been this affectionate towards you at this point in time. That was possibly why he struggled to put words to his feelings. Because to some extent, they weren’t really his.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. This is all just a weird dream. I’m gonna step into that black thing, and you’re gonna wake up and not even remember any of this.”

You wished that what you were saying was the truth, but you also feared everything about what was happening right now. Regardless of timelines. You feared that you’d become lost to time, no longer belonging anywhere, and that your Marcus might not even exist anymore, or perhaps that you’d just never find him again.

“But I want to remember… because even if this is a dream, you like me here.”

No, no, no, this was not what you needed to hear right now. Leaving him was hard enough, no matter how or why it happened. Your eyes stung when they met his. At the very least, you had to leave him with some hope.

“I like you everywhere, Mo. …I love you.”

Taking advantage of his shock, you slipped your hand out of his and quickly backed away, towards the portal, only turning to face it once you were about to step through. But you paused, staring into it through the tears that would no longer be held back, for the first time feeling unwilling to trust it.

“Take me to him. Please.”

The liquid just kept softly billowing, perhaps moved by the winds and currents of the universe itself. You closed your eyes, hoping with all the might of your soul that this was the last lesson it had needed to teach you, and then you stepped through.

<><><><><>

Marcus stood under a tree in his own garden, staring at his house, seeing his mother and daughter through the living room window, sitting in the sofa and talking, probably about him. Their version of him. The person he’d need to become for the foreseeable future. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, but it had gone dark. He was trying to think back, to remember everything that had been going on five months ago, but he kept losing track of his own thoughts, finding them drifting back to what the portal had showed him earlier that day, after he’d left HQ. He’d been wandering around for a while, trying to figure out what to do next, what had been significant enough about this point in time for the portal to need him to come back here, when one of the smaller pieces of it had suddenly appeared. On its own, the little black creature couldn’t take him anywhere, but as it turned out, it could still show him things. It had climbed up onto his head, and somehow projected images into his mind. Images that would surely rob him of all sleep for a long time to come. Or possibly even drive him mad. There wasn’t really any point in putting it off any longer, it wouldn’t get any easier to explain no matter how long he stood out there. Stepping into the house, he was met by Missy’s voice calling for her dad, before she came running to meet him, a hopeful smile on her face that faded when she realized that it wasn’t the right Marcus that had walked in. Anita followed behind her, but upon seeing her reaction, told her to go to her room.

“No, you both need to hear this. Please.”

His voice was weak and hoarse from all the crying, but he had to explain, as best he could, because there was nowhere else he could go, and no other version of him would be coming back any time soon. Meaning he was the only father that this Missy had for now. They exchanged a look, and after Anita nodded to her grandchild, they all went into the kitchen and sat down around the table. The two of them close together, and him on the opposite side.

“Sweetheart, did you tell Abuela what happened at HQ?”

“Yeah. As best I could.”

He nodded slowly a few times, once more attempting to gather his thoughts.

“I had hoped that I was brought here in order to learn or understand something that would have importance in the future, but as it turns out, that’s not what this is about for me.”

He paused to take a breath, trying to keep his emotions in check for as long as he could, while they both patiently waited, looking more apprehensive than confused, thus far.

“In my timeline… something horrible is about to happen. And Pita and I are the only ones who know about it. This portal thing, it’s trying to help us stop it, and I thought that it brought me here to find a clue, something that would…”

Pain overtook him, stealing his voice for a moment, because as he said it out loud, he suddenly felt like the portal had betrayed him. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“This is all about Pita. I’m here because the portal knows everything. Every possible version of the future, and in order to prevent what’s coming, I have to stay alive. I have to be safe, because Pita is the only one that can stop the annihilation of all life on this planet, and if anything happens to me… she won’t be able to do that.”

Anita tilted her head to the side, but her eyes kept studying him closely.

“So, you’re hiding.”

“Not by choice… but yes, I suppose that’s true. I’d give anything to go back there, to help her.”

He was able to keep the tears from falling, but the pain refused to lessen. Knowing that you’d be forced to face this enormous threat all alone was enough to make him wanna beat his hands bloody against the fucking goo. He wanted to trust that it was doing what needed to be done, but how could he when the odds of your success seemed so insurmountable? Missy could see his pain as clearly as he could feel it, and it didn’t seem to matter to her that he wasn’t technically her dad, because she came to sit next to him and hugged him.

“I know how she feels, if she loves you so much that she’ll break without you. But I don’t understand how she can fight something that dangerous alone?”

“Neither do I, really. I just know that it has something to do with her soul. It’s very special, and it needs to be whole when she faces her enemy, or she’ll fail.”

“Is your Ace a super?”

“No. Her power is something else.”

She paused, and then pulled back so she could properly look at him.

“Do you believe she’s strong enough to win?”

He met her worried eyes, knowing that she’d see the truth whether he voiced it or not.

“I want to. But I’ve seen what’s coming… and… I just can’t.”

—————

Link to Chapter 17

I'm so sorry for being so crap at updating this lately, but sadly, I haven't been feeling well. Thank you for reading, and I’d love to know what you thought :) Have a wonderful day/night!

Give me a shout if you wish to be tagged on updates, and same goes for being removed from the taglist.

@deadhumourist @idreamofboobear @bison-writes @dornish-queen @ladyphantom96 @sarahjkl82-blog @shsoba05 @cannedsoupsucks @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @nolanell @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @myfavpedrothings @generalfoolish @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed

#the lost island fic #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno x female reader #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes fic #we can be heroes #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

36 notes · View notes

technowoah · 3 years

Note

hey hey hey! i really really really love ur works and wanna reuwest a purpled x reader one. also since purpled said hes only comfy with his character what about the reader losing their last cannon life to dream and purpled gets really really sad until like- a month later, she comes back from hell. kinda like c!jacks revival. If your not comfy with this pls ignore <3

My Mission

Purpled is still trying to figure out how to deal with your death, but before he can you come back.

- Platonic Purpled x Revived!Reader

- Anon Requested!

- blurb

- italics = flashback (except the last few lines)

- the "hes" out of italics are referring to Purpled.

⚠︎: slight swearing, angst to fluff-ish, gore, no dsmp spoilers.

An// I know this is late but I'm having major writers block lol ✌🏾😛 I hope you like it love!

The night was cold as he sat on a hill away from the kingdom Dream had made himself. The tall grass flowed around him like a blanket on his bed he wish he could be in right now, but he chose this, he chose to be here. His blonde hair whipped around his face harshly, but he didnt bother move it out of his eyes he could still see the destination ahead of him.

The kingdom looking like a bright star the fell to the ground. He used to love sitting and watching the lights of the kingdom at night flicker like a fallen star that still had its glow. The small smile he had on his face fell when his mind reminded him of the tragedy a month ago.

The night was cold and dark and that couldn't resemble how he was feeling right now. Anger, resentment, betrayed flowed through his heart. He wanted revenge.

The swords were already shined and ready for blood, arrows sharpened to the point, and potions made to kill the second it envelopes you. Months of preparation was right there next to him, ready to be finally used.

He wanted revenge for his best friend.

He left the kingdom for an hour grabbing every weapon he had before finding a place he used to go with his best friend.

----------------

"The kingdom looks beautiful!" You said while standing up in the tall grass.

Purpled had taken you to a far away spot out of the dsmp kingdom just for fun.

"I know, I come here often when I want to clear my head." Purpled said while sitting down in the hill letting the grass tickle his skin.

It was the middle of the say and almost sun down. You two had hiked up away from the kingdom and up a semi huge hill that gave a great view of the lights.

"How did you find this place?" You smiled to the boy sitting down to the side of you.

"Just was hiking I guess!" He laughed. "Well I was looking for more caves outside of the kingdom and stood on this hill, and looked back and saw the beautiful view."

"Now this is your spot now?" You smiled and nodded.

"I mean it's our spot now. You're the only other person who knows about it." Purpled motioned for his friend to sit down and you did.

"Great." You smiled at him and he shared that smile.

"Great."

------------------

He finally stood up from his spot on the hill and made his way back to the kingdom, weapons at his mercy and ready to be used.

The walk back to the kingdom was long, but he wasnt in a rush. He just wanted to keep his mind calm before he finally faced the man who he wanted to kill. The man whos blood should be on his arrows and swords he just sharpened for this occasion.

He walks with purpose and in stride. He always does, he was always busy around the kingdom. Making something new or not even saying what he was doing, no one would want to cross his path because no one would want to know what trouble he was gettng himself into. But they always knew he would come put alive in the end.

He walked along the prime path keeping his gaze forward. He sped up his walk trying to get to the place he needs to go faster to get this feeling out of his body. Sadly him staring straight ahead made him bump shoulders with someone passing by. He didn't have the time to look back and stop, but a familiar voice made him stop.

"Hey! Watch where the fuck you are going!"

Damn it.

He tried to walk away, but he heard the footsteps get closer and the protests get louder.

"Hey asshole! You know Im talking to you Purpled?! Stop!"

"What do you want Quackity?!"

"Damn it took that long for you to turn around?!" The scarred man laughed as the blonde started at him blankly.

Quackity had a small smirk on his face before he looked around to make sure no one else is spying on them. Quackity chuckled while crossing his arms looking at the impatient blonde infront of him.

"What. Do. You. Want. Shouldn't you be in Las Nevadas?" He scoffed.

"I should! I should. But I heard about your little predicament." Quackity still had that taunting smile on his face.

"I wouldn't call it a predicament I would call it a missi-"

"A mission. Yeah I know, that's what you call every thing now-a-days." Quackity shook his head in disbelief. "Even when your best friend dies..Its a damn misson."

Purpled stayed quiet and let the older man talk. He didn't need to hear this, but at least this will hunor him before his miss- plans.

"Its a shame! It really is. But you know what Purpled?" Quackity's voice got quieter.

"If this is about Las Nevadas, you should leave. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"I bet you do." Quackity looked away from the blonde. "Its a shame that you dont even know where Dream is to kill him."

--------------

"Y/N! Get out of my way!"

"I will not let you hurt him!"

"Get out of his way!"

Purpled was injured, pretty badly at that. He was clutching his side in pain where a arrow had struck him. His face had long cuts across it, and so did his body. The only way you could see the cuts along his body is because the cuts Dream had made tore through his clothes.

Purpled looked like he couldn't stand back up. You didn't want to know why they were fighting so brutally, you only showed up when Dream stood above Purpled about to take the final blow, sword clutched tightly in-between his hands.

The only thing you saw was that and you ran in the middle of the two blocking Dream from doing anymore damage to Purpled. Now the two men are yelling at you to get out of Dream's way.

"You're really stubborn aren't you?" Dream dropped his sword to his side, but still kept that tight grip on the handle.

"For my friends, yeah I am." You said with your head held high looking at the masked man.

"Y/N." Purpled groaned behind you. "Go, please."

You turned your whole body around to face him. He couldn't get up, still kneeling on the ground he tried to move and stand to his full height. It was impossible for him to do so. You saw a keep gash where his knee is. Dream must've stabbed his knee, through his knee.

"You stay down! I can handle this!"

"Where is your armor?! Huh?! Where is all your gear?! You're vulnerable!"

"You are too!"

"As much as this pains me to see the two bestest friends fight, Move." Dream said sternly while placing a rough hand on your shoulder.

"Dream get your hand off of them!" Purpled yelled.

"At this point you cannot tell me what to do." Dream chuckled. "This state that you're in! Its pathetic!"

Purpled hung his head low while Dream kept on running his mouth.

"Y/N! Do you even want to know why we're even fighting?! Its all his-"

"I dont want to know. Frankly I dont care just stop hurting him." Your words came out calmer than you wanted because you really were vulnerable at this point.

"I haven't even finished the job, my misson." Dream scoffed.

"If you wanto to finish "your mission" go through me first." You said while finding Purpled's sword on the ground next to him and gripping it tightly just like Dream.

"Y/N stop this!"

"Fine then."

Dream had grabbed your shoulder again so hard it could leave a bruise and brought your shoulders forward. You didn't have any time to react and the next thing you saw when you looked down was his sword going through your stomach. It hurt to breathe, and you felt yourself coughing up blood onto the grass beneath you. He had finally let go of your shoulder and you fell to your side letting your body go numb.

"NO DREAM!" Purpled tried to reach you, but ended up getting kicked down by Dream.

"Im done with you now. Its no point. I thought killing you would be better, but watching you suffer after your best friend gets killed is good enough for me."

"My mission is done, and they were right. You are vulnerable."

-------------

"Where is he then?" He asked trying not to sound rushed.

"You would like to know huh? Well Let me tell you about this thing I have first. I mean if you want to know where Dream is for your little mission" Quackity proposed and he stayed quiet waiting for the older man's response.

"I have this book, it was given to me by an old ally of mine. It has all of the lives of everyone in it. The whole book is filled with names and if they are dead or not-"

"Where are you going with this?" He interrupted.

"Im saying that not everyone knows of Y/N's death. Its not any big headlines. So I read this book often and I so happened to see their name and underneath it, it said they were dead."

"And?"

"I have a proposal-"

"No." He started to walk away leaving Quackity to stand and yell at the younger one.

"Oh come on! Dont you want your friend back?!" Quackity yelled as the other walked away briskly.

"Fine! You'll owe me!"

----------

It was over. He ended up back on the same hill again, but this time it was pitch black and the only light available was the light in the stars and the light from the kingdom. He could hear faint noises of mobs in the distance, but they didn't dare come near him.

His eyes started to water and his vision began to get blurry. He didn't kill Dream, he couldn't. That's not what you would've wanted.

Dream was right all along. He was vulnerable, he was always vulnerable.

He closed his eyes letting tears drop onto his cheeks. He was upset that he couldn't fulfill his mission, the one thing he knew he could do for the one he misses the most in life. He failed. And now Dream is sitting somewhere, he didn't even take Quackity's proposal. He didn't even know what Dream was to kil him.

Still, even if he wasnt discouraged, he would've still tried to hunt Dream down. He didn't care if it took him months to a year, he didn't care if it killed him. One day.

He looked out to the kingdom once more with eyes full of tears. The kingdom now looking like a ball of light and not as detailed.

"Purpled?"

He sighed brushing the call off, he was hearing things.

"Hey, Purpled."

He shook his head with his hands cupping his face. He was convincing himself that his head was playing tricks on him because there is no one that could be out here at this time.

"I thought I would get a warmer welcome than this."

He felt the grass moving beside him and he quickly turned his head to his right where he saw the person he wanted to the most. You.

It was you, but you had a white streak in your hair, your stomach still had a bigger scar still on it. It was you, it was finally you. He hesitated before reaching out to hug you, there was some tall grass in between you two but it didn't matter, he had you back. You had to feel tears fall on your back because he was crying, he tried to keep his sobs quiet but they slipped out.

"Are you okay?" He asked while sniffing.

"Im alive now. Thats progress." You responded hesitantly before continuing. "I wanted to stay dead. I mean it had to be my time right? I was in hell and I don't know why. Why was I there?!"

You started sobbing on his shirt as well and you took a big breath before starting to talk again.

"And then I just showed up not that far from here. It was horrible, like an out of body experience. I dont know who brought me back either! But now I found you here and Im okay enough." You smiled with tiredness in your eyes as you pulled away from the long hug.

"I tried to kill Dream." He confessed.

"Because of me?"

He hummed in agreement "I couldn't, thats not what you would've wanted."

"Why would you know what I wanted?" You asked the blonde. "I was dead for a month."

"You wanted me to kill him?" He asked with a bit of excitement in his voice.

"Consider this a new mission." You smiled while standing up and him following suit.

"My mission." He whispered while looking at the ground. "It'll take a while, but we'll get him. I promise."

You two locked pinkie fingers together to seal the promise. A promise that would be sealed to the end of time. No matter how long or who dies, he never fails a mission.

"Oh! Also, I have a note for you." You handed him a small torn note that you found lying next to you when you reappeared.

--------------

Dear Purpled,

You're welcome. They're here now.

Remember that favor I never got to ask you?

I suppose you should listen to me now.

193 notes · View notes

universalistotalis · 3 years

Text

The Fifth Date

Bokuto Koutarou (Timeskip!!!) x Female Reader

credits to the owner of the picture :)

3k words

kinda long but it's worth it i guess

Masterlist!!!

You can’t believe this. You just can’t!

“Hey, are you alright?” Bokuto Koutarou looked at you with utmost sincerity in his eyes. You looked up and wondered if he really was worried or just being polite but either way, you stared right at his pupils.

“I am.” You agreed, letting go of his gaze and wanting to end the conversation.

This was your fifth date with him but there were no sparks since the first. You just didn’t feel his vibes and he could be so noisy at times which you hated. There was selfishness underneath his skin and it reeked in your nostrils. You hated egotistic people and you weren’t going to tolerate this much longer.

What your friends saw in Bokuto, you had no idea! They were all swooning over him when they set you up on a date together. They kept saying that he was perfect so you, being the hopeless romantic that you are, expected a prince who would be a gentleman, who would listen to you talk for hours on end, who would be so loving and caring… But instead, you were presented with boastfulness and chaos all wrapped up into one big muscle of a man! He did look like a prince but that was it!

“You know you can tell me right? I’ll listen.” You didn’t mistake the softness in his voice as he continued to stare at you lovingly.

You didn’t know if it was the beautiful place that he brought you to or if it was his kindness that made your brain turn into mush. But for the first time in five dates, your heart was hammering, its beats already like drums in your ears.

“I-I’m fine.” You stuttered and kept your eyes on the horizon.

You heard him sigh beside you on the railing you were both leaning on. The place you both drove to was divine as it overlooked the city. The twinkling lights below were mimicking the stars above and there were lanterns that hung overhead as well, casting the whole place in a lazy glow. You took a deep breath of the fresh air as you calmed yourself from the most stressful day of your life and from your whirlwind of a date.

A little rustling was heard and before you knew it, you were enveloped in warmth and his scent. Bokuto wrapped his jacket around you, letting you face him, so that he could pull the zipper up to your chest.

“There, so you won’t have to worry.” He smiled sweetly.

So he did notice the large coffee stain on your shirt and not once did he show that he was irked by it. You tried your best to cover it but of course you can't. Everyone at work gave you the side glance or the 'what-the-fuck-happened-to-you' look but he didn’t!

This can’t be happening. Were you reminiscing all those moments with Koutarou? AND NOW YOU’RE CALLING HIM KOUTAROU?!

You rolled around on your bed, a pillow tucked underneath your arms. A muffled scream was released as you felt an intense tingling sensation all over your body. You were supposed to end that fifth date! You were supposed to tell him that you both should see other people!

But the way he acted that night… it was as if he’s… perfect.

“Don’t hide from me.” He whispered in your ear as you cried in his arms. As his scent and warmth put your senses to overdrive with the jacket, you couldn’t help but sob. It was like the world was against you today. Even the document from work that you were so ready to pass, crashed on you. Even the coffee that you made this morning with care, splashed your white collared shirt. Even your ID lace that seemed so insignificant, decided to get caught on the doorknob and almost snapped your neck in two! And to spice things up, your evil boss humiliated you in the inter-department presentation even when the CEO of the company congratulated you on a job well done!

It was the little depressing and annoying moments that accumulated in your chest.

“Today has been s-so hard.” You cried in his shirt. “I keep on trying my best but it’s like I’m not doing enough. I'm not enough.”

The gentle rocking of your body stopped as he heard the words fall out of your mouth.

“Hey, don’t say that.” He cooed and trying to hold you at arm’s length. “You’re more than enough.”

You shook your head and tried to avoid his eyes again as he searched for yours. Fingers gripped on your chin to steady you and you melt for the nth time tonight.

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. Alright? This day may have been difficult for you and maybe there are more days that would be the same but you shouldn’t doubt your efforts. The fact that you made it through, that’s already something to be grateful about.” He said while wiping your tears away. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t cry about them once in a while. Let yourself feel but then get back up again, yeah?”

You nodded but you felt another round of sobs escape your mouth. He pouted as he saw your wounded state and again, you were held close to his broad chest, away from the hurt, the pain, the stress…

This was dangerous. Are you actually falling for him? You’re actually falling for the loud guy that you swore you hated?!

‘Hey, hey, hey!’

His voice reverberated inside your skull and with that sound came the print of his smile on your brain. He had the nicest set of teeth and the nicest golden eyes you’ve ever seen. His skin was flawless too and under any light, you swore he was shining.

You couldn’t help but grin at the—

Yes…

This is bad. Really bad.

“You wanna dance?” He offered his hand out to you, smiling shyly. You were surprised at his somehow timid expression as you were so used to him being his confident self.

“I don’t know how.” You said breathlessly as you stared at his gorgeous face.

He let out a chuckle and reached out for your hand under the table. “Let’s figure it out, c’mon.”

The platform was small and there were four couples slowly dancing to the romantic song that was being played by a live band.

He led your hands to encircle his neck while his rested on your waist. All the motions, even the slightest graze of his skin on yours, were making your mind hazy. Everything seemed to blur and the only thing that made sense were the two of you in each other’s embrace.

“You’re so tall.” You whispered mindlessly which made him chuckle. He noticed that you could barely wrap your arms around his neck and that your arms were getting floppy due to fatigue. He then guided you to hug him around his waist instead so he could pull you closer.

“I’ve never danced like this before.” He confessed, swaying stiffly at the music.

“I can tell.” You giggle and look up at him in time to see him pout.

He poked your side, deliberately tickling you for a while. “That’s mean.”

“But it’s my first time too. And I kinda like it.” You said shyly, feeling your cheeks warm even with the cold night air.

“You think you could get used to it?” He asked, hope laced in his question.

“Of course.” You smiled up at him.

He smiled back and his eyes twinkled as he stared. He scooped your right hand and brought it to his lips for a quiet kiss then slowly intertwined your fingers with his, all while maintaining eye contact.

“AHHHHHHHHH!” You screamed into your pillow again as your head played that scene.

Sleep was so far away now that your adrenaline was so high because of him! You swore you could still feel his lips on your skin. It was as if he imprinted it there and nothing on earth can take that away now.

“Bokuto, stop haunting me! Let me sleep!”

“Now, listen here, missy.” The owner of the restaurant pointed to you sternly as she stood behind the counter. “Tell this boyfriend of yours to stop going here and actually get some much deserved rest! Athletes shouldn’t be tiring themselves!”

You chuckled at her actions and stole a glance at Bokuto who’s pouting excessively at the older woman with his hair seemingly deflating at her ministrations.

“But I like your food!” He whined.

The woman clicked her tongue, as if annoyed. “You can have better food from where you live. Now, stop pestering me!”

“I will come back here more often if you say that!” He smirked and leaned on the counter.

“As if! I know you’ll come back no matter what happens.” She rolls her eyes then turned to you. “We can’t get rid of him even if we wanted to!”

They kept bickering back and forth as you waited for the fruit shakes and other snacks that Bokuto ordered for takeout. It was a long drive back home and he said didn’t want you to get thirsty or hungry. You just listened to their banters and even though they were dissing each other out, you can’t miss the loving and motherly look the owner had for Bokuto.

“You’re a regular here?” You asked him as you settled on the carseat.

“I’m a fan of the view. And as you saw, I’m quite close with the owners and the workers. This is my safe space.” He replied and started the engine.

“When was the last time you went here?” You inquired, suddenly curious of his whereabouts.

“Yesterday.” He shrugged. “And the day before that. And maybe the whole of last week.”

Your eyes widened at his answer. “This is like two or three hours away! How?!”

“I needed some place to relax. And think.” He smiled sadly as maneuvered the car to begin the journey back home.

“Are you alright?” You blinked at your question. His voice seemed low and so sad in contrast to his usual loud and noisy screeches that you were so damn used to. This Bokuto in front of you was so hard to read!

He turned to you for a split second before averting his eyes on the road. “I am. I guess.”

“Don’t hide from me.” You bit your lip hard as you repeated his words to you. You wanted to know him more, to understand his feelings, and to make him feel better.

“Hey, you can’t use my lines against me.” He laughed lightly as he looked at you. Your eyes were begging him to tell you how he is and who was he to resist? “I’m just nervous about the incoming games, that’s all.”

“You still get nervous?” You turned to him, a little surprised.

“Why are you so shocked? Of course, I do! Some less nerve- wrecking than the others but I do always get tension at every game.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair while thinking. “But the upcoming match is a qualifying game for the Olympics so everyone is anxious.”

“Who are you against with?” You asked.

“See, now that’s another one of my worries. The competitors have still not been announced so we have to wait for a month. A whole month! What am I supposed to do?!” He said exasperatedly. “And just last week, one of our teammates got injured so they gave us time off. You know, to rest and shit. But I am restless and—"

“So that’s why you come all the way here?” You concluded.

“Yeah.” He breathed. “The drive gets my mind off of the anxiety and their food just makes me feel like I’m home.”

‘So he is human after all.’ You said to yourself. It was the simplest realization but it did so many wonders for your feelings and understanding towards him.

The drive home was filled with stories of sadness and laughter. You both sipped at your drinks and munched at the chips he bought. And as you both neared your home, it dawned on you that this was the best date you’ve ever had in your life! Bokuto’s so laid back and chill, kind and generous. He listened so intently and patiently to all your life stories and he had a good memory too, remembering the things you’ve told him about yourself in the past dates.

You sighed while sitting up. There’s no question that you were falling in deep for this guy. During the drive, he became his noisy self, acting all the spikes he did at the games comically but instead of being annoyed, you had tears in your eyes because you had laughed so much at his acting. You loved listening to him talk and you realized he wasn’t selfish at all!

Go figure.

Maybe you just mistook his confidence for selfishness and egocentricity.

You can’t believe that you were itching to lengthen the time you had with him. The car was now parked in front of where you lived and it was time to say goodbye.

Your eyes met and there was a tinge of sadness in his eyes which surprised you.

“Look.” He turned to the passenger seat and leaned closer. “I know that I’m not the best date there is and you may have been agreeing to these just because of obligation from your friends but… I’d like you to know that I—“

Closing his eyes, he exhaled. “I really like you.”

As the words were uttered, your body visibly tenses under his gaze.

Panic rises in his gut as he realized what he did. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“N-no!” You tried to swallow. “You didn’t scare me.”

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen ghost?” He chuckled lightly not giving up his stares.

Your shoulders slumped as you sighed. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

He nodded, still looking. “I guess this will be our last, huh?”

“What?”

“I know you don’t like me and you hate my company. I just really like you so I tried to drag it out for so long.” He said sheepishly as he deflated back into his seat. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and I’m so sorry if I did.”

This was not how you imagined ending your date. You were supposed to be the one saying that this will be the last. You were supposed to be excited about not seeing him again. You were supposed to go now! But the universe really did pull a reverse card on you today.

“Bokuto…” You started, feeling the guilt consume you to the bones. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that I didn’t like you.”

He was fiddling with his fingers now.

“It's just that your first impressions lasted so bad that it blinded me to who you really were.” Be honest. Just be fuckin’ honest! “I did think I didn’t like you but after tonight, you proved me wrong.”

His face looked at you in a flash, eyes finding the meaning behind your words.

“I didn’t know you could be like this!” You gestured to him, a little frustrated because your heart was pounding so bad and it became so difficult to breathe.

“Like what?” A smirk was beginning to form at his lips.

“This!” You laughed. “You’re fun to be with. You’re calm and reliable when needed. And just… yeah.” You’re just perfect.

You stared at each other’s eyes for a while longer, trying to read and drown in each other.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to give it another try?” You asked, hoping to god he’ll say yes to your request.

His eyes widened for a moment and his gray hair perked up a little bit.

“I told you I like you.” He smiled. “Why would I say no to that?”

Your phone beeped beside you. And if you weren’t so red enough from the memory, you knew that you were flaming red now.

It was a text from Bokuto.

Can’t sleep :(

You sighed at what he said. His anxiety about the game catches onto him so much that he often gets insomnia. The poor baby. You were about to reply when another text popped out.

I may or may not be outside your home.

“What?!” You panicked while swiftly looking for a hoodie to put on. Why is he here and why were you feeling excited at the thought of seeing him?

You asleep, little owl?

You bolted towards the doors and true enough, he was there, leaning on his car and dazzling in all his six feet and three inches glory. He looked unreal in this light even in his simple hoodie and joggers.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” His husky voice greeted you as you walked closer.

“No. Can’t sleep too.” You smiled. “What brings you here?”

He shrugged. He didn’t know what came over him when he closed your distance and hugged you tight. To him, you looked like an angel sent to earth only for his eyes to see! You were in an oversized hoodie, hair a little tousled, and your face was so calm under the moonlight. Something inside him prickled at the thought of being domestic with you.

Slowly your arms wrapped around his waist and you surrendered your weight to him. In that moment, he felt like he would burst! Never did he expect for this to happen, for you to give him a chance, but here you were. He deeply breathed in your scent and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?” Your voice was a mere whisper when you looked up at him.

“Like a date?” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

“Yeah?” You nodded.

He wondered if you had any idea about how you're making him feel crazier by the minute. If you don’t, then that’s much worse. “What am I gonna do with you?” He chuckled, arranging stray locks of your hair.

“You can go on a date with me.” You laughed and he was sure, so sure, that you felt his heart do a cartwheel when you were resting your head on his chest.

“I’d like that.” He replied hugging you tighter.

It was funny to you that you planned that fifth date to be the last. It turned out to be the first. The first real date where you felt like a princess in a fairytale. It was the first out of a never- ending series of romantic dates because Bokuto Koutarou had no plans of letting you go. Ever.

Okay, wait, hear me out. Have you seen that scene where Bokuto and Akaashi were just outside the hotel and they were just talking all calm and casual? MA'AM THAT'S WHERE I DIED SEEING BOKUTO AHHHH HE'S JUST SO PRECIOUS AND I DO BELIEVE HE CAN BE SERIOUS AND MATURE IF GIVEN THE CHANCE. I AM SIMPING HARD HELP

Masterlist!!!

Reblogs, replies are appreciated! <3

107 notes · View notes

sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 23

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

It doesn’t feel real until she sees the flutter on the ultrasound, the grey and white pixels flashing erratically confirming a healthy ten-week pregnancy. The doctor gives them a due date of September 17th, and she explains to Mulder repeatedly that the due date is only an estimate, that the baby will most likely arrive sometime in the two weeks before or after that day. Nonetheless, he prints little numbers in the corner of each date on the calendar, counting down.

She is lucky to experience very little nausea, but the time saved clinging to the toilet is instead allocated to bursting into tears at every tiny inconvenience. Mulder comforts her with a confused expression when she cries because she can’t find a Tupperware lid that fits, or her latte has too much foam, or she realizes she can no longer see her toes. She cries because she’s crying, because she feels out of touch with her own body and thrown off by her own emotions. They marvel at the growth of her belly as well as her breasts, which are even more sensitive than they were before. Her libido kicks into overdrive at the same time that she becomes incredibly self conscious about her protruding belly, her fuller face, her swelling feet. This leads to more tears as she grapples with both wanting desperately to be touched and not wanting him to look at her.

He tells her each day how beautiful she is, her hair growing longer and thicker, her skin glowing, her rounding belly housing the perfect little life that they created together. When he’s home, he rubs her feet every night, fetches her countless glasses of water and then helps tow her out of the bed so she can pee ten times in the night. When he’s on the road with Monica, he calls three times a day, asks Missy and her mother to go by and check on her, calls in dinner to be delivered so she doesn't have to cook. As her due date nears, he stops going on out-of-town cases, needing to be close enough to be by her side immediately when she goes into labor. He will not risk missing the birth of his child.

The apartment becomes cramped with a bassinet, changing table, pack n play, and various other baby gadgets. They consider moving, but the idea is too overwhelming for Scully so they decide to stay put until the baby becomes mobile and they really need more space. Mulder breaks the lease on his apartment and moves his fish tank into the living room, putting the rest of his furniture in storage until they buy a house. Priscilla breaks in all the baby gear, sleeping in the car seat and jumping into the swing, covering the tiny onesies with her black fur and making Scully cry yet again. Mulder refuses to let her scoop the litter box, even though she insists it’s safe if she wears gloves and washes her hands afterward. Other tasks she’s forbidden to complete include cleaning the toilet, carrying in the groceries and hauling laundry to the washing machine. When he’s on the road, she misses him as much as she is relieved to be able to be independent, not much caring for being treated as though she’s made of glass.

For the majority of her pregnancy, Scully insists that she doesn’t want to know the sex of the baby, that she wants to be surprised. Mulder respects her decision, even though he would personally like to know, and they create two lists of potential baby names, Scully crossing off “Lisa Marie'' each time Mulder tries to add it to the “girl” column. When she reaches 39 weeks, her pelvis widening as the baby drops into the birth canal, she is so miserable that she has a change of heart, needing to feel connected to this thing that is destroying her body and stealing her sleep. They call the doctor together on a Thursday afternoon as Scully sits on the couch in tears, having woken that morning to find angry red stretch marks marring her previously lily-white belly. When Mulder relays the doctor’s message that the baby is a girl, she sobs harder, and he’s not sure whether it’s because she’s happy or disappointed.

She wakes him at 3:00 am on September 21st, the irregular Braxton-Hicks contractions she’s been feeling for weeks having taken up a predictable cadence, now ten minutes apart almost on the dot. He starts rushing around, scrambling for her hospital bag and his shoes, and now it is her turn to provide comfort, to let him know there’s plenty of time. She doesn’t want to go to the hospital until the contractions are five minutes apart, and so they wait. The progression to nine minutes, then eight, then seven is alarmingly fast, and by the time she agrees that they should head to the hospital she’s starting to feel pressure low in her pelvis. Mulder drives too fast, the streets thankfully still quiet in the early morning, and she is wheeled into labor and delivery with not enough time for an epidural, much to her lament.

Molly Katherine Mulder has blue eyes and a dark shock of nearly-black hair. She barely cries at her entrance to the world, instead searching the room with a curious gaze, squeezing her daddy’s finger with an impressively strong grip and latching like a pro. They are able to go home the following day, Scully wincing as she moves gingerly from the bed to the couch, rinsing her tender stitches with a bottle of warm water and bleeding through entire packages of overnight maxi pads in a day.

Mulder takes off work for two weeks and they spend blissful days curled up in bed with the baby nestled between them as Priscilla curiously sniffs around her, licking her hair with a rough tongue and making them laugh. Each time Scully wakes at night to nurse, Mulder insists she go back to sleep while he changes the baby and walks her around the quiet apartment until she is asleep, singing softly and lulling them both.

When Mulder returns to work, Scully insists that he get a full night's sleep and let her wake up with Molly, reasoning that she can take naps during the day. She does not, of course, take naps during the day. Instead she tries to keep the apartment clean, the clothes washed, the diapers taken out to the dumpster, the litter box scooped. She does too much, and he sees it each day as she grows more and more weary, more and more defeated, the bags under her eyes deepening in color and her mouth rarely hosting a smile. He begs her to let him do more, to ask less of herself, but she is stubborn and strong-willed, the very things he loves about her now keeping her from properly taking care of herself.

They struggle through sleep-deprived arguments over who left the breast milk out on the counter all night, why it matters if he changes the baby on the floor instead of the changing table, why Scully doesn’t want to supplement with formula so he can take some of the night feedings. Her doctor releases her as medically clear to have sex after six weeks and she cries as she tells him that she doesn’t feel ready, that she can’t imagine anything worse than sex right now, and he holds her as he tells her that he doesn’t care, that she should take as much time as she needs, that he can wait.

They struggle, and they thrive. Moments of absolute unadulterated joy are punctuated by intense despair and overwhelm. The gain of a family against the loss of a life where you could pick up and go, stay out until 2:00 am and make love in the middle of the day. They are happy, and they are stressed, and they face it together.

On a Saturday in December, Mulder wakes early and takes care of every conceivable task in the house; the laundry, the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, scooping the litter, buying the groceries. He checks every item off Scully’s to-do list and then takes Molly for a long drive, leaving Scully alone with nothing to do in hopes that she will rest for once. When they return from their excursion, he creeps into the quiet apartment with a sleeping baby in his arms and sets her in the bassinet by the couch. At first he thinks maybe Scully has gone out, but he finds her in bed asleep with soaking wet hair, Priscilla curled up behind her knees. He watches her for a bit, affection clutching at his chest, then changes into sweats and kicks Priscilla out so he can snuggle up behind Scully. It feels so infrequent that they just lay like this anymore; one of them is always about to get up with the baby, about to get ready for work, or doesn’t want to be touched after a tiny person has clung to them all day. He pulls in a deep breath, smelling her lavender bubble bath and feeling the rise and fall of her ribs against his chest. He doesn’t want to disturb her, but he can’t resist pressing a tiny kiss to the side of her neck.

“Mmmm,” she hums in response, twisting her body around so they are face to face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. Where’s Molly?”

“She’s asleep in the living room.”

She sighs and snuggles closer to him, pressing her forehead into his chest and pushing one of her legs between his.

“This feels nice,” she says contentedly, and he brushes his hand softly up and down her back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Tired. Frumpy. Like I haven’t put on real clothes or a stitch of makeup in three months,” she laments.

“Well, I’ll give you tired,” he says softly, “but I can’t agree on frumpy. I think you look very beautiful.”

She scoffs against his chest.

“You don’t have to placate me, Mulder. I know I’m a mess.”

“Maybe so, but you’re my mess,” he retorts, pushing his fingers into her hair to gently scratch her scalp.

She tilts her head up to look at him, appraising his face with a skeptical eye.

“Is this what you thought it was going to be like?” she asks, her tone open and vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “I guess I didn’t really know what to expect.”

She sighs. “I just wish I knew when I might start to feel like myself again,” she says sadly. “I can’t help but feel like you’re not getting what you signed up for.”

“What do you mean?” he asks with a concerned frown.

He sees her eyes growing glassy, dampening with impending tears. “I mean the woman you asked out in the autopsy bay isn’t the one you’re with now,” she whispers, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

“That’s not even a little bit true,” he implores, cradling the back of her head with his hand. “You are everything you were then, and more. I’m amazed by you every day.”

She closes her eyes, a tear rolling across the bridge of her nose. He feels his chest ache; the need to make her understand is overwhelming.

“Hey,” he says, pulling the blankets back, “come here.”

He pulls her into a sitting position and slides off the bed, towing her along with him to sit on the edge of the mattress. He kneels on the floor between her knees, his hands on her hips.

“If you think for one second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I don’t care if you wear giant milk-stained T-shirts and have spit up in your hair for the rest of our lives, Scully. You’re it for me, okay?”

She pulls in a shuddering breath and wipes at her eyes, but won’t look at him.

“Stay here,” he commands, and disappears into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back, he returns to his post kneeling at her feet.

“We knew this was going to be hard,” he says tenderly, holding one of her hands in his. “You said it yourself before Molly was born, that it would be the hardest time in our lives, and that we’d be at our worst. And I’m telling you that if this is your worst, sign me up, okay? It hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”

He holds up his other hand, a diamond ring perched between his thumb and forefinger.

“If you’re not ready to say yes yet, that’s okay, but I need you to know that I still want to marry you, Scully. I’ll wait forever if that’s what you need, but there hasn’t been a single day since I asked that I haven’t still meant it.”

Her tears have stopped, though her eyes are still wet and the tip of her nose is red. She looks from him to the ring and back, her eyebrows stitched in contemplation.

“I didn’t hear you ask me a question,” she says quietly, and he picks up on the slightest lilt of playfulness in her voice, which makes him break out into a smile.

“Dana Katherine Scully, love of my life, mother of my child, will you marry me?”

She smiles then, and he thinks his heart may burst right out of his chest.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answers, and he takes her left hand, slipping the ring on her finger.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him repeatedly, soft pecks devolving into lingering smooches as he shifts up slightly, pushing her back gently to recline on the bed. He moves over her, kissing along her jaw and down her neck, not going any further, not wanting to rush her.

She brings her hands to his hips, letting the tips of her fingers slip under the waist of his sweatpants, and his cock stirs. It’s been so, so, long, and he wants her desperately, but not until she’s ready. She pushes her hand down the front of his pants, gripping him as he grows hard under her touch. It’s overwhelming in the best way; he feels like a teenager being touched for the first time.

“I wanna have sex,” she breathes into his ear, the words rushing out quickly as though she’s afraid she might change her mind if she waits too long to say them.

He pulls back to look at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, and she nods, bringing her palm to his cheek before glancing at the ring on her finger and smiling.

They move slowly, though still with a sense of urgency that a baby sleeping in the next room brings. He pushes her shirt up and she lets him take it off, then slips the yoga pants off her hips, leaving her in basic black cotton briefs. He sees the hesitancy in her eyes as he looks at her body, now softer than it was before Molly, curvy in different places, purple streaks running from below her belly button to disappear under her panties.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing her chest, her breasts, her belly, running his tongue along the grooves of her stretch marks. He loops his thumbs under the waist of her panties and tugs them down slowly, quickly undressing before he rejoins her in the bed.

“Tell me if anything hurts, okay?” he asks with a serious expression, and she nods, letting her legs fall open as he settles between them. He lines himself up with her entrance and pushes in achingly slowly, watching her face raptly. Her mouth opens slightly, and she takes in a sharp little breath. He’s about to ask her if it hurts when she closes her eyes and her mouth drops open further as she breathes out “oh,” in a way that he knows means pleasure, not pain. When he’s all the way in, their hip bones pressed together tightly, he stills and kisses her for a while, feeling like he could melt into a puddle for how good everything feels. His heart, his mind, his body, he is all wrapped up in her and it’s exactly where he wants to be.

He begins to move, and she responds with an arch of her back and a little gasp, her hands clutching at his shoulders. Little by little, he increases his pace until he knows he won’t last much longer.

“What do you need?” he asks, and she brings her hand to her breast.

He dips his head, flicking at the hardened bud of her nipple, and feels her clench around him. He plays with the level of pressure, licking and sucking, pleasantly surprised that she is enjoying it even as her breasts have taken on a purely functional role these last few months.

She pulls in a huge breath, arching her back and pressing her head into the mattress and he groans as he feels her tighten around him. She emits a single piercing cry when she comes, stifling it with an arm slung across her mouth. He pours into her, burying his face in her neck, clinging to her like a life raft. She is, in fact, all he needs to survive.

Resting half his weight on the mattress beside her, he stays inside as they both come down, panting and smiling, brushing hands over each other’s skin, reconnecting.

“Ah!” Molly yells from the living room, and Mulder laughs.

“You’re being summoned,” Scully says with a tender smile.

He withdraws from her, handing her his T-shirt to clean up while he slips on his sweatpants and retrieves Molly from her bassinet.

“Guess what, Goose?” he says, using his special nickname for her, “Mommy and Daddy are getting married.”

“AH!” She squeals, flapping her arms.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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bibbawrites · 3 years

Text

Tis The Damn Season - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

THIS IS PART 8 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES, YOU CAN FIND THE OTHER PARTS HERE

Request: none

Word Count: 3897 words

Summary: Part 8 of Single Dad!Charlie, Owen spends Christmas and New Year with Charlie and Margaux

Warnings: swearing, sexual references, implied sexual content pretty sure everyone knows at this point but this does include romantic chowen, remember this is fictional, if you dont like that just dont read :)

A/N: i was hesitant to write this since its literally march but @happinessinthedarkesttimes told me i should do it when i asked her so here it is lol things are getting a little more steamy... sorry for any typos im once again editing this half asleep lol anyways hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes @littlemissaddict @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @headheartbellarke @lovesanimals @bartok-the-magnificent @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765 @fandomxreaders @ifilwtmfc @yagorlemmalyn

December 23rd - 9pm

“Papa!” Margaux exclaimed, running over to Owen as he exited the plane. “You’re back!”

“I am.” Owen grinned, scooping up the four year old to give her a hug. “Isn’t it past your bed time missy?”

“Daddy let me stay awake to see you!” Margaux told him, and Owen smiled at the mention of Charlie.

“I’m glad. Where is Daddy?” He asked. Margaux pointed and Charlie waved from his spot on a chair.

“Over there.” She said, and Owen grabbed his bag that he had dropped in his haste to grab Margaux before heading over to Charlie.

“Hey handsome.” Charlie grinned. Owen blushed slightly.

“Hi.” He replied. “Missed you.”

“Missed you more. Ready to go home and have a good sleep?” Charlie questioned and Owen nodded, visibly relaxing at the mention of sleep.

“I really am.” He agreed. Charlie smiled, taking Owen’s bag.

“Great. Let’s get out of here.”

Margaux fell asleep in the car on the way home, so once they arrived Charlie took her straight to bed. He pulled her door closed, leaving just enough of a gap to let the hallway light creep into the room, before heading down the hallway to where Owen was stood in the living room. Charlie glanced up, grinning when he noticed that Owen had fallen right into his trap.

“What are you smiling about?” Owen questioned. Charlie smiled.

“Look up.” He said, and Owen obeyed, Charlie walking closer as he did.

“Mistletoe? Really?” Owen raised an eyebrow and Charlie shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Figured it would be my only chance to kiss you.”

Owen rolled his eyes, leaning in and kissing Charlie on the cheek.

“Happy?” He asked.

Charlie pouted, grabbing Owen’s shirt and dragging him in, connecting their lips in a forceful kiss. Owen’s back hit the wall, his hands finding a place on Charlie’s waist. Charlie bit at Owen’s lip and Owen groaned, allowing Charlie to slip his tongue into Owen’s mouth.

Owen pulled away, panting, and pressed his forehead to Charlie’s.

“Is Maggie fully asleep?” He murmured against Charlie’s lips. Charlie nodded.

“Yes.” He replied. Owen grinned.

“Good.”

And with that he grabbed Charlie’s shirt, dragging him to the bedroom.

December 24 - Christmas Eve

Charlie woke the next morning, still naked and tangled up in Owen’s arms. He opened his eyes to find Owen already awake, playing on his phone.

“You’re awake.” Owen said, placing his phone down. Charlie hummed in response. Owen bit his lip.

“So last night was...” He trailed off.

“Yep...” Charlie replied simply. Owen hesitated.

“I don’t usually hook up with people I’m not dating.” He admitted.

“Well at least you can’t get pregnant.” Charlie joked.

“Hmm.” Owen replied, clearly not amused by Charlie’s joke. Charlie frowned.

“O?” He spoke.

“Yeah?” Owen replied.

“Do you regret it?” Charlie asked. Owen sighed.

“I don’t know Char. Remember what I said in Hawaii? I’m just not sure if I’m ready to do... this.” He said. Charlie’s heart sunk.

“But sex is okay?” He questioned, somewhat bitterly. As much as he loved Owen he wasn’t about to enter into some friends with benefits situation.

“It was a one time thing.” Owen mumbled.

“Oh...” Charlie’s voice was small, and for a moment he considered wriggling out of Owen’s grip.

“Please don’t shut me out like in Norman.” Owen begged. Charlie hesitated.

“I won’t. I just don’t fully understand.” He said.

“Charlie...” Owen sighed. “Look, I don’t know about you-“

“But I’m feeling 22.” Charlie interrupted. Owen bit back a smile.

“No, you dork. I’m trying to be serious here.” He said, and Charlie moved so that he could see Owen’s face.

“I’m listening.” He assured Owen. Owen took a breath.

“Look, I’m not out to anyone. I have no clue what I am, and before I met you I’d never even considered being with a guy. But I met you and everything changed. I guess technically you were my sexual awakening.” He explained. Charlie traced a pattern on Owen’s arm.

“You don’t need to have a label, I don’t. Just love who you want to love.” He said, and Owen sighed.

“I just need a bit more time to figure this out.” He spoke after a short pause.

“And you can have it. But can I at least get one last kiss? And promise me we won’t stop snuggling.” Charlie put on his best puppy eyes and he could see Owen caving.

“We could never stop snuggling.” Owen said. “And as for the kiss...”

He lent in, pressing a gentle kiss to Charlie’s lips, pulling away with a grin when Charlie tried to deepen the kiss.

“There.” Owen grinned and Charlie groaned.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He muttered.

“Oh I have a bit of an idea.” Owen smirked, his gaze drifting downwards towards Charlie’s naked bottom half. Charlie blushed slightly, swatting at Owen’s chest.

“Shut up, you know that you can’t control morning wood.” He defended, slightly embarrassed that Owen could feel that he was hard.

“I know.” Owen grinned cheekily. “You should probably fix that though. I’ll go wake up Maggie.”

He climbed out of Charlie’s bed, still naked from the night before, and made a big show of finding his boxers, knowing that Charlie was watching his every move. He found them and pulled them on, grabbing a pair of Charlie’s sweatpants and putting them on too before turning to look at Charlie.

“Have fun.” He winked, before leaving the room, and Charlie in it. Charlie let his head flop down onto the pillow with a sigh, and not for the first time considered the fact that Owen was literally going to be the death of him.

Charlie entered the kitchen a little bit later and ignored the look Owen gave him, instead heading over to Margaux and wrapping his arms around her.

“Good morning baby, happy Christmas Eve.” He greeted. Margaux grinned, her mouth full of froot loops.

“Daddy! Santa comes tonight.” She exclaimed, and Charlie nodded, matching her excitement level.

“He sure does, are you excited?” He asked and Margaux nodded quickly.

“Yeah!” She squealed. Charlie ruffled her hair, turning his attention back to Owen.

“Do you have plans today O? Mags and I are gonna go to the Mall to get a photo with Santa.” He questioned. Owen nodded.

“I actually have some last minute shopping to do.” He said. Charlie smiled.

“Cool, you can come with us and go off while we do our photo then.” He suggested, and Owen nodded.

“Great.” He said.

“Daddy?” Margaux spoke up.

“Yeah baby?” Charlie glanced down at the four year old, who was looking at him in concern.

“What happened to your neck? Did you bump it while playing?” She asked innocently.

Charlie’s eyes widened, and Owen choked on his tea.

“Yeah baby, Daddy fell over.” Charlie agreed.

“Silly Daddy.” Margaux giggled.

“Yeah, silly Daddy. Why don’t you go find your Christmas scrunchie for Daddy to put your hair up?” Charlie said, trying to distract her, and it worked.

“Ooh okay!” Margaux grinned, climbing out of her chair and running to her room.

“You gave me a fucking hickey?” Charlie said once he knew Margaux was out of earshot.

“In my defence... yeah no I don’t have one.” Owen giggled. Charlie glared at him.

“Fuck you Joyner.” He muttered.

“We already did. Last night.” Owen winked, rushing out of the room before Charlie could even register his cheeky words and process what just happened.

A few hours later and Charlie and Margaux were lined up ready to get their Santa photo taken. They reached the front of the line and the photographer gave them a welcome smile.

“Okay sweetie are you ready to meet Santa?” The photographer asked and Margaux nodded.

“Yeah.” She said. The photographer smiled.

“Great, Dad are you gonna be in the photo?” She questioned.

“Yeah I am.” Charlie replied.

“Okay cool, just head on through.” She instructed, and Charlie carried Margaux in, sitting down on the allocated stool with her on his knee as they smiled for the photo. Once they had taken a few and the photographer was happy it was time to talk to the Santa.

“Ho ho ho, what’s your name little one?” He asked and Margaux smiled.

“Margaux.” She said confidently.

“And what do you want for Christmas Margaux?” Santa asked.

“A pony.” Margaux told him and Charlie grinned.

“Oh, well you know it might be a bit hard for Santa to fit a pony in his sleigh. Is there anything else?” The Santa said, trying his best to redirect the four year old and not make any promises.

“Yeah...” She glanced up at Charlie before looking back at Santa. “I want Papa to stay with me and Daddy all the time and not go away again.”

Charlie bit his lip as he made eye contact with the Santa, who shot him a slightly sympathetic look.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Santa told her softly and Margaux smiled. Charlie took that as their cue to leave, standing up quickly and saying one last goodbye to the Santa before leaving. He paid for the photo and collected the print outs, one for him and one to send back to Canada for his mum.

They left the photo area and headed through the mall to where they were meeting up with Owen.

“Daddy?” Margaux spoke up. Charlie hummed in response.

“Yeah Mags?” He asked.

“Will Papa have to go home?” Margaux questioned, her voice soft. Charlie sighed.

“Probably baby. You know Papa lives in Oklahoma, he has to go back to Bindi, remember?” He told her, and Margaux pouted.

“I wish he wouldn’t go.” She said, and Charlie nodded, spotting Owen on a bench just ahead of them.

“Me too baby, me too.” He agreed as they reached Owen who jumped up quickly.

“There you are! How was Santa, what did you ask him for?” He questioned. Charlie bit his lip.

“We’ll talk about it later.” He said, and Owen frowned but dropped it nonetheless, changing the topic to a toy that he had seen, leaving Charlie to zone out and consider how exactly he was meant to explain Margaux’s words to Owen without hurting him.

It wasn’t until later that evening that Owen brought the topic up again. He and Charlie were sitting in the living room, and Margaux was in her room, taking a late afternoon nap since she had been exhausted when they got home from the mall.

“What did she ask for?” Owen asked, and Charlie bit his lip.

“At first a pony. Luckily Santa dodged that one and said it was too big to fit in the sleigh. So he asked her what else she wanted, and she said she wanted you to stay with us and not go home.” He admitted. Owen was silent.

“Oh...” He said after a moment. Charlie nodded awkwardly.

“Yeah.” He replied. They fell silent, before Charlie spoke again.

“Owen, I promise I didn’t say anything to her. I’m not trying to guilt you into staying by brainwashing her.” He said, and Owen nodded.

“I know, don’t freak out.” He replied, grabbing Charlie’s hand and giving it a light squeeze.

“I just don’t want you to freak out.” Charlie explained.

“I get it. She’s four Charlie, she just wants her Papa around more often.” Owen sighed, and Charlie nodded.

“She’s not the only one.” He said. Owen shut his eyes.

“I know. I’m thinking about it, trust me. But it’s not an easy decision to make.” He mumbled.

“I know it’s not. Take your time. Now should we go have ourselves a nice Christmas Eve dinner?” Charlie said, deciding to change the topic as quickly as he could.

“Sounds good. I’ll get Maggie.” Owen agreed.

Charlie sighed as Owen left the room to go find the four year old. He wanted nothing more than for the blond boy to stay for as long as he could, but that was unrealistic.

He knew that all he could do was just enjoy his time with Owen while he could.

December 25 - Christmas Day

“Daddy! Papa! Wake up!”

Charlie’s eyes fluttered open as his four year old bounced on the bed, narrowly missing jumping on his and Owen’s tangled legs.

“It’s Christmas!” Margaux squealed.

“Margaux.” Owen whined. “It’s so early.”

“But Santa came.” Margaux flopped down, landing on Charlie’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her, placing a soft kiss on her messy curls.

“Merry Christmas baby.” He whispered.

“Merry Christmas Daddy. Present time?” She grinned. Charlie shook his head, glancing towards Owen, who had rolled over and was attempting to go back to sleep.

“Cuddle for a bit first. Give Papa a chance to wake up.” He told her, and Margaux nodded, snuggling closer to her father.

“Okay.”

Almost an hour later and Owen was finally awake and Charlie couldn’t hold Margaux off any longer.

The three of them set up in the living room, where all of Margaux’s presents were under the large fake Christmas tree.

Charlie sat leaning against Owen as Margaux opened her presents, and once she was happily playing with a new truck that she had gotten Charlie offered Owen his presents.

“This one is from Mags.” He explained, as Owen opened the present to find a drawing that Margaux had done of the three of them, framed nicely.

“It’s beautiful. You did a great job Maggie.” Owen complimented and Margaux grinned.

“Thank you!” She exclaimed. Charlie grabbed a second present.

“This one is from me.” He handed the small box to Owen who opened it, revealing a key.

“It’s a key to this apartment. I figured even if you don’t end up moving here at least you can still come any time you want.” Charlie explained and Owen smiled.

“Thank you Char.” He said softly, and Charlie nodded. Owen reached down, grabbing the last wrapped present and handing it to Charlie. Charlie took it and opened it to find a photo book filled with photos of himself and Margaux, Owen and Margaux, memories from set and their adventures together and more.

“This is really sweet Owen.” Charlie smiled softly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Owen replied, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Charlie’s head, as Charlie rested his head on Owen’s shoulder, the both of them watching Margaux play with small smiles on their faces.

The rest of their Christmas Day passed quickly and before he knew it Charlie was tucking Margaux into bed with a kiss on the head, and leaving her room to go have a shower.

Almost an hour later he reentered the kitchen where Owen had cleaned up everything from dinner and was sitting on a chair fiddling with his phone.

“Beer?” Charlie asked and Owen’s head shot up.

“Please.” He smiled and Charlie opened the fridge, grabbing two bottles of beer and handed one to Owen before sitting down across from him.

“So, first Christmas away from home, how you feeling?” Charlie questioned. Owen shrugged.

“Honestly, pretty good. I was worried I’d be homesick but I wasn’t at all.” He said and Charlie grinned.

“That’s really good. Cleaning up after Mags all day would have been a good distraction.” He replied and Owen groaned, making Charlie laugh.

“I don’t know how you do this 24/7. You’re literally a superhero.”

“Nah, just learnt to leave the messes until after she’s finished. Much easier.”

Owen glared at him.

“You say that now, after I spent the whole day picking shit up?” He spat, but Charlie knew he wasn’t really angry.

“In my defence you’ve lived with her before. Rookie error from someone with experience.” Charlie retaliated and Owen flipped him off, the both of them crumbling into a fit of giggles.

“Daddy?” Margaux’s voice came and Charlie instantly stopped laughing, his whole focus on his daughter.

“Hey, why are you up?” He asked.

“Bad dream.” Margaux climbed into Charlie’s lap and he wrapped his arms around her, beginning to rock her slightly like he did when she was a baby.

“Wanna talk about it?” He questioned and Margaux pouted.

“I couldn’t find you.” She told him. Charlie placed a reassuring kiss on her head.

“I’m here, and I’m never gonna leave you, okay?” He whispered, and Margaux nodded.

“Yeah.” Her voice was already beginning to sound sleepy again. Charlie ran his hands through her curls, detangling a knot with his fingers.

“You wanna stay here and cuddle Daddy until you fall asleep?” He asked, moving to rub her back, and Margaux nodded, snuggling her head into Charlie’s chest.

“Love you Daddy.” She mumbled. Charlie smiled.

“I love you too baby. So much.” He replied.

They sat in silence until Charlie was sure that Margaux was asleep.

“Never get a break.” He joked quietly. Owen shook his head in awe.

“You’re literally the perfect dad, you know that right?” He complimented, and Charlie blushed slightly.

“I wouldn’t say perfect.” He mumbled, but Owen shook his head.

“You are.” He said. Charlie smiled across the table at him.

“Thanks O.” He whispered.

“I mean it.” Owen smiled.

“I appreciate it. It wasn’t exactly in the plan to become a parent at 18, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re young and stupid and don’t know how a condom works.” Charlie shrugged, and Owen gave him a small glare.

“So you made one mistake, but look at what came from it.” Charlie looked down at Margaux as Owen spoke. “The best present that you ever got.”

“Very true.” Charlie agreed. “And I’d never want to return her for the world.”

New Year’s Eve

“Do you drink champagne?” Charlie asked Owen as the three of them walked through the grocery store on New Years Eve, getting the last minute snacks and drinks for their night in. Charlie pushed a trolley with Margaux in it, and Owen walked along beside them.

“Yeah.” Owen said. Charlie smiled, stopping the trolley.

“Great, I’ll get a bottle then. Mags, what drink do you want as your special drink?” He asked the four year old, who didn’t even hesitate.

“Pink milk!” She grinned, pointing, and Owen grabbed the bottle from the fridge next to them.

“Okay, snacks.” Charlie said, crossing off ‘Margaux drink’ on his shopping list.

He pushed the trolley out of the aisle and through the store to the snack aisle, stopping when he reached it.

“Okay, go wild.” He instructed, and both Margaux and Owen cheered, with the blond boy grabbing whatever Margaux asked for, putting it into the trolley along with his own snack choices.

Charlie grinned as he watched them shop, adding a few of his own things into the mix.

He could get used to this.

Later that night Charlie, Owen and Margaux had made themselves comfortable on the couch, both Charlie and Owen having a glass of champagne while Margaux drank strawberry milk out of a plastic champagne glass.

“How long Daddy?” Margaux asked, looking up at her dad. Charlie glanced at his phone, seeing that it was just after 11pm. He was shocked she had made it this long without crashing.

“One more hour baby.” He told her and Margaux nodded.

“Okay.”

She turned back to the TV which was playing a countdown of the best songs of the 2010′s, and they fell into a comfortable silence only filled with small talk and songs for about 45 minutes until Owen broke the silence.

“Char.” He whispered, and Charlie looked up. Owen gestured to Margaux and a small smile appeared on Charlie’s face as his gaze landed on the four year old, who had curled up on the couch and fallen asleep.

“Should we put her to bed and bring out more alcohol?” Owen questioned and Charlie nodded with a grin.

“Sounds good. I’ll put her in bed, you get the drinks?” He suggested, and Owen nodded, placing a soft kiss goodnight on Margaux’s head before heading into the kitchen.

Charlie picked the four year old up and carried her to her bed, tucking her in and kissing her before heading back out to Owen, who had already poured two glasses of champagne. Charlie sat down on the couch next to Owen, grabbing one of the glasses and holding it up.

“Cheers.” He said, and they clinked glasses before drinking. Charlie placed his glass down before looking at Owen.

“5 minutes til midnight, you ready for 2020 to be over?” He asked. Owen shrugged.

“Mostly. There were some good things that happened this year.” He said.

“Yeah it wasn’t all bad.” Charlie agreed. They fell silent for a moment.

“Hey Charlie?” Owen spoke up, his voice slightly shaky.

“Yeah?” Charlie turned, giving Owen his full attention.

“I made a decision, about where I want to live...” Owen started, and Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. He was pretty sure he knew what Owen’s decision would be, but he wanted to hear it just to be sure.

“Yeah?” He prompted. Owen looked down.

“I think I’m gonna stay in Oklahoma, I’m not ready to leave yet.” He said, and Charlie nodded, understanding.

“I get that.” Owen looked up.

“But I have a compromise.” He said with a small smile. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m gonna get my own place. I found one that’s really nice and affordable, and it has a study that could be turned into a bedroom for Margaux, and you could come stay with me whenever you wanted.” Owen explained, and Charlie couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Margaux having her very own room in Oklahoma to stay any time. But there was one other thing...

“A room for Margaux?” Charlie questioned and Owen nodded. “So where would I sleep?”

“Uh, I was kinda counting on you sleeping in my room with me...” Owen trailed off hesitantly. Charlie’s stomach fluttered at the thought.

“You’d want that?” He asked, eyes wide, and Owen nodded shyly.

“I do. I love waking up with you Char. I love hearing your morning voice, and seeing your messy hair, and the way you kiss my face while you’re still half asleep. And I love having you in my arms, or being in your arms.” He rambled, and it took everything in Charlie not to kiss him.

“You really like me, huh.” Charlie teased. Owen blushed, rolling his eyes.

“I do. I figured it was obvious, you know, when we literally had sex last week.” He retorted. Charlie grinned.

“Owen.” He said.

“Charlie.” Owen mimicked his tone.

“I would love that.” Charlie stated, bringing the conversation back to the original topic.

“I’m glad. Actually, I have something else to tell you too.” Owen told him.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Charlie tilted his head.

“I think I’m r-“

Owen was cut off by the countdown to midnight starting on the TV, and he stopped talking with a sigh as both boys grabbed their champagne as they counted.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Happy New Year!”

Charlie lent in, placing a soft kiss on Owen’s cheek, not wanting to push the boundaries.

“Happy New Year Owen.” He said. Owen bit his lip, and Charlie missed the longing look in Owen’s eyes, his gaze drifting to Charlie’s lips. He swallowed, shaking his head before replying.

“Happy New Year Charlie.”

#single dad!charlie #single dad!charlie x owen #charlie gillespie #owen patrick joyner #single dad!charlie series #chowen

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mandilflorian · 3 years

Text

Laws of Motion

Marcus Moreno x Reader (fem)

Rating: +18 (minors do NOT interact)

warnings: light smut, dry humping/making out, egregious physics jokes, if i’m missing anything i’m sorry!

word count: 1.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! My resolution is to write more and I’m happy to kick off the new year with a smutty little marcus one shot! I haven’t posted fic in a long time and I apologize if my grammar is off. I have a basic understanding of physics lol so if it’s not accurate then I also apologize for that. I hope you all had a happy holidays. Enjoy!

• • •

Marcus Moreno had been on you all day. A lingering touch as you exchange files and cups of coffee to each other at the office. A hand on the small of your back as he passes you by in a hallway with more than enough space for two people to walk. It’s deliberate. You’ve been craving his touch for a few weeks now. Both too busy with work to truly feel each other. The want has been building and you might just combust if you wait another moment to have him.

He stops by your office during your lunch break, sitting on the edge and playing with the Newton’s Cradle on your desk. Stopping the motion of the cradle in it tracks before gently lifting a finger of one side and allowing it to fall, continuing its demonstration. You watch his ministration while sipping on your coffee, lost in the thought of his hands working you in similar ways. He can read you very well, and he takes note of your distracted state.

“Did you know,” he interrupts your thought and you look to find him staring into your eyes with a glare you can’t quite read. “By lifting one side, you are creating potential energy. And when you release it-“ He releases the ball and the cradle begins its demonstration again, all while keeping his eyes locked on you. “It converts to kinetic energy and transfers that energy to each ball until it gains the momentum to propel the last one forward. And the cycle repeats. Creating a seemingly infinite motion.”

You hide your smile behind your hand, trying to hold your giggling from him. He is prone to scientific tangents and you are in constant fascination with the Heroic, but the simplicity of this is just too cute. “Marcus, I am well aware of the mechanisms of a Newton’s Cradle.”

He drops his hand into his lap and fiddles with a loose thread from his jeans as you set your coffee mug down next to him. Before you’re able to move your hand away he quickly takes it into his and intertwines them.

You look back into his eyes to find them dark and serious. What you couldn’t read before, becomes abundantly clear. He wants you. While the direction of the conversation only serves to confuse you, Marcus continues.

“Maybe we should turn our potential energy,” he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “into something kinetic.”

The contact sends a jolt to your hand and up your arm. Your chest tightens until you realize what he just said. It’s a moment of silence before it’s filled with your laughter. Loud and booming through your office as you try and fail to contain yourself. Marcus drops your hand and stands next to you. “Alright, Geez. It was corny, I get it.” He pats your back as you wipe the tears pricking your sight.

“I’m- I- Oh my god, Marcus, I’m so sorry- I can’t- I- Did you just u-use a physics pick-up line on me?” You hold your palm to your chest, taking a deep breath and letting a few giggles escape.

“Yeah, Yeah I get it. I was trying to be romantic.” He shakes his head and adjusts his glasses. You stand and wrap your arms around his waist. “Baby, I love you, but that was a little too cheesy to be sexy.” You tell him as you rub between the planes of his shoulders.

“Hmm.” He grunts and pushes his tongue against his cheek. “Guess it just needs a little momentum.” He smiles down at you and you raise your brow.

“Was that another pick-up line?” You grin up at him and he meets you with a kiss, pulling away reluctantly and walking toward your office door.

“I’ll see you after work, baby.”

• • •

Finally, you’ve found yourselves back at Marcus’s house. Your relationship wasn’t new by any means. It wasn’t a secret, but you were still being slowly introduced to The Moreno’s family dynamic. You didn’t want to freak Missy out, so you both kept any and all public displays of affection to a minimum. This, mixed with your busy schedules, has left you both high and dry. Tonight, however, Missy was attending a sleepover with her new friends, which gave you the perfect opportunity to be intimate.

You’re barely through the door before Marcus has you pressed against it, pulling you against his chest and pushing against your hips with his own. You wrap your arms around his neck and card your hands through his hair as his tongue glides along your lower lip. He sucks on it and releases it with a graze of his teeth, drawing a moan from you. He grins, knowing he has you in the palm of his hands. Growing impatient with his teasing, you grip the curls by the nape of his neck, dragging him back to your lips. Your faces meeting in a clash of lips and teeth, and your noses pressed to the other’s cheek. His glasses push at an odd angle against his forehead and you take a moment to lift them and set them aside, safely.

“Couch?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He turns you around and guides you backwards, his lips attached to your neck as your knees meet the cushions and you fall into a tangle of limbs, only separating long enough for you to kick your heels off, pull your pants down and toss them over the side of the couch while he shucks off his leather jacket.

Marcus grips your thighs and pulls you so you fall, unceremoniously, straddling his lap. The zipper of his jeans rubbing deliciously against your clit through your panties. You move at a steady rhythm against each other for a few minutes and he groans beneath you, feeling his cock harden through his jeans.

One particular thrust catches on your sensitive nub and you throw your head back. Marcus takes you in with lust-blown, nearly black eyes. He clenches his jaw, baring his teeth. He wraps his leg around the back of one of your knees and pulls on your hips, flipping you over and onto your back. He then pins you hands above your head and pauses to study you.

His show of strength has you clenching your thighs to ease the loss of pressure from changing positions. “Baby? Why’d you stop?” You try to grind against him, but he takes one of his hands from above your head to pin your waist to the couch.

“Have you heard of Newton’s Laws of Motion?”

You give him a curious look. What is going on with him today? “Marcus, we are in the middle of something a little more important, so it’s kind of hard to remember-“

Marcus moves a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans in to whisper. “Sweetheart, when i’m done, you’ll be reciting them.” The feel of his lips along your neck is the olive branch he extends from your brief disruption.

He grinds against you with a slow and steady pace. Not quite enough pressure, but at least you’re moving. “The first law states that a body in motion stays in motion, and a body at rest-‘ he stills your hips and you whine at the loss of friction. “will stay at rest unless a force acts upon it.” He releases your hands and you tug on his belt loops in protest as he begins to move again to your relief. He grabs your hips and holds your center against his thigh, applying a little more pressure, but still keeping that slow rhythm.

“This brings us to our second law. The acceleration of an object is dependent on force and mass. Try to move against me.” You rid yourself of your lustful daze long enough to listen. You try to grind up into him. You’re barely able to move him, much less yourself. “Not quite.” He tuts. “I am the mass. You have to generate enough force to move me. Try again.” he says in a raspy voice that drives you to do as he says. This time you grind against his thigh with enough force to move him and pick up the pace. “There it is, baby.” You nearly fall apart at his words. This is so much hotter than you imagined and you are quickly reaching your peak just from rubbing against him.

“Now for the third law.” He grasps your thighs and holds you to him as he starts to move in tandem with you. “Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.” With every push of your hips, he returns in kind. dragging his restrained cock against your clothed center. Your vision is blurring and you’re not sure you’ll last much longer, surprised that Marcus has managed as long as he has.

A husky moan escapes Marcus’s lips as he stills your movements to control his own strokes. “I-I’m close, baby. uuuhhhhh F-fuck.” He pushes your shirt over your chest to reveal your pebbled nipples. He kisses up your sternum and nips under your breast. Your breath hitches as he takes a nipple into his mouth and pulls it taut between his teeth.

“Oh, Fuck! Marcus!” His thrusts, just the right speed and pressure, paired with his mouth on your tits. It has you seeing stars. Your pussy constricts with blinding pleasure as you cum. Marcus is not far behind as his steady stride becomes erratic. He grunts and his hips stutter against yours, gripping your biceps while he rides the high of his orgasm.“Fuck.” he collapses on top of you, knocking the wind out of you.

“Ugh! Marcus, baby…” You push him into a more comfortable position for the both of you, his torso between your legs and head resting on your chest. “Sorry, we didn’t make it past the living room this time, honey…” He huffs, rubbing next to your panty line over the dips of your hips.

“Hey, you won’t see me complaining.” You pull his shirt over his head to get you both more comfortable. “Hey, Marcus?”

“Yeah, baby?” He tilts his head to look up to you with those beautiful brown eyes that you’ve fallen for countless times.

“That…. was sexy as hell.” you bite your lip. His smirk grows to a toothy grin.

“Yeah? You think so?”

You nod your head, mirroring his expression. “Yeah, you were really cute at work with those pick-up lines, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn’t into any of it. But this was something else entirely.”

He chuckles and starts to stand. You groan at the loss of him, not wanting to part just yet. But he has other ideas. He leans over you and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You squeal in protest and he smacks your ass. You realize he’s leading you to the bedroom.

“Don’t worry, baby, we still have plenty of energy to transfer, tonight.”

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x fem!reader #marcus moreno x female reader #we can be heroes #wcbh #marcus moreno one shot #hot dilfs in your area #pedro pascal characters

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years

Text

“It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you!”

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 3060

Warning: My bad writing I guess

Prompt 13, “It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you!”

A/N: Van my darling, my best gal. I hope you enjoy this. I may have been inspired by your baking attempts with this prompt ngl x

Thank you to @canarypoint again you legend x

Also Tumblr really didn’t like me uploading this so I’m sorry if it’s all bunched together.

Tags: @missmonsters2

“It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you”

"Okay, I went to five different stores, nearly killed a guy and almost lost the checklist. However, I managed to find everything you needed to make that dish, Myshka" Nat says, rushing through the kitchen; both hands full of bags filled with ingredients. I wipe the bead of sweat from between my brow and sigh in relief, before leaning towards her and planting a quick kiss to her cheek.

"You are the best assassin and friend a girl could ask for" Nat fakes disgust as she wipes at her cheek.

"Yeah, yeah if I didn't like the idea of you trying to woo her so much. You'd be joining the guy at the store" she grumbles while helping me remove all the ingredients from the bags. We both make quick work at preparing the famous Chicken Paprikash dish and with Nat's amazing abilities at being able to read almost every language it almost seemed effortless.

If we both weren't so bad at cooking.

I keep an eye on the time, anticipating her arrival home. Wanda, Steve, Bucky and Sam had been sent on an undercover mission almost two weeks ago, the whole thing had been kept under the radar with only a few of us in the know.

"You think we have enough time, Nat?"

"Of course, Sam messaged me about half an hour ago. They'll be back in 2 hours that gives us plenty of time to cook this dish and help build up your courage to finally confess your undying love for our, Malen'kaya Ved'ma (little witch). Now stop pacing around, you're making me dizzy"

Since joining the Avengers over a year ago, I've gotten to know each of them very well, already knowing Natasha and Clint from our Shield days it was an easy transition into the great band of supers, that was until I met Wanda Maximoff. Her sparkling hazel eyes and long chestnut hair framing her beautiful face with that shy smile had me a goner from the moment I laid my eyes on her. After a few weeks of being with the team every day for training and team-bonding sessions, the more I realised how much fun and carefree Wanda could be. After speaking to Clint one drunken night about our blossoming friendship outside of the team buildings and training I was dumbfounded by how shocked he was to hear about that side of Wanda which they all only catch small glimpses off. According to Clint after losing her brother she was an empty shell of herself just moving through life as if it was a chore and not a gift to walk this earth.

I guess she just needed a reason to live again.

After that revelation I continued to spend time with her alone, I asked more about her and her life in Sokovia, her face lighting up talking about her family and all the traditions they would follow each year even if her and Pietro weren't overly fond of them. Some nights there were tears as she spoke fondly of her brother and her parents no matter how briefly they were mentioned. She would laugh at all the stories I would tell her about our shield adventures both on mission and around the base, her mouth wide and eyes bright with mischief as I relay the story about how me and Nat unscrewed the screws from one of the vents just enough for Clint to fall through right above Fury's office while he was in a meeting with the council. Since she's been away and radio silent, I've never felt so lost even with Natasha around trying her best to cheer me up and letting me win more sparring matches than ever before.

I take a deep breath in and settle my nerves before helping Nat continue to season the chicken.

"Okay so it says that we have to boil the rice in a non-stick pan? How do we tell the difference?" I look at her dumbfounded.

"For someone who's supposed to be the world’s most smartest, most deadliest assassin you sure are dumb" I state, I can feel her eyes burning into me. If looks could kill...

"Do you want my help or not?"

"No, no I need your help. Thank you Natalia" I say sweetly, smiling innocently at her. She rolls her eyes and continues with the rice.

Once everything is in the cooker and pan, we retreat to the kitchen island, a bottle of beer in hand as we talk about anything and everything. After some time had passed, I'm interrupted by Nat's hand indicating for me to stop talking as she sniffs at the air.

"What is that god awful smell?"

My eyes widen in fear as I start to notice the smoke coming from the pan. I race to grab the fire extinguisher while Nat tries desperately to turn everything off and open the kitchen window. I quickly release the white foam over the pan cutting the small fire off, as I step back my foot slips slightly on the wet floor, sending me crashing to the floor but not before I manage to hit Nat square in the face with the foam. I groan slightly at my now bruised ass and tenderly sit up, leaning against the counter behind me.We both sit in silence for a moment before bursting into laughter, Nat joining me on the floor, so we're shoulder to shoulder.

"Let's agree to never cook again".

"Agreed"

"God damn it, look at my shirt it’s ruined! I can't confess anything to her looking like this! She'd think I'm crazy!" I quickly unbuttoned my shirt revealing a thin, white tank top underneath.

"What the hell happened here?" The most angelic voice exclaims by the kitchen doorway, our eyes widen as we both come to the same conclusion.

She's back. Early.

I quickly scramble to my feet and try to adjust myself accordingly before sending her a beaming smile which quickly turns in a worrying frown after taking in her tired complexion, her hazel eyes no longer holding that bright twinkle whenever she smiles. A large cut visible across her right eyebrow and Sam standing behind her not looking any better.

"Oh my god, Wanda!" I race forward and delicately place my hands on either side of her face, my eyes scanning every inch of skin. She winces slightly before grasping my forearms gently and removing them away from her face.

"Oh Sam, how are you? You want me to help clean up that cut, maybe get you snack" I hear Sam mutter behind us rhetorically.I roll my eyes in good nature as Nat laughs behind me.

"I'm okay, Lumina mea (my light). You should see the other guy" she attempts a small grin before casting her eyes over to the mess that is the kitchen and Nat quietly trying to salvage the meal, with no real joy. I blush at hearing her native tongue slip through at the end of her sentence even if I don't understand the meaning behind the saying.

"Again, I'll ask, what the hell happened in here and why can I smell paprika?" Her cute button nose scrunches adorably as she takes in my crumbled-up shirt and Nat's wet face.

"Oh, well we uh.. decided to try and cook a meal for you guys. We know the mission was rough and wanted to surprise you all, we kind of got carried away" I grimace at my cowardly response, I can feel the disappointment in waves from Natasha's direction.

Okay so I'm not ready to come out with it yet, sue me.

"Oh, you could have waited until I got back and asked me to help. You know how much I love to make paprikash"I can see the hurt in her eyes even though she tries to brush it off with a small smile. She knows what a bad cook Nat is and how much she loves cooking for you both after a rough mission.

Great, you've also offended her.

Good going Y/N.

There's an awkward silence between the four of us before Wanda clears her throat and takes a step back towards the entrance way.

"I'm gonna go and get cleaned up, I'll see you both at the party tonight, yes?" She addressed us both, but her eyes stayed locked on mine. I blush slightly at the thought of her wanting my company.

Please she was addressing you both Y/N, as if you would ever stand a chance.

"Of course, Wanda, we wouldn't miss it" Nat answers for us as I continue to stare at her. I quickly avert my eyes and nod in acknowledgement.

"We'll be there"

Once she leaves a dry towel hits me square in the chest, I instantly catch it while looking up in the direction of the thrower.

"Come on lover girl, let's clean this mess up and order a take away. I'm starving. Also, Sam "we'll be there in two hours" can you not map out a timescale"

"Listen I lost a lot of blood tryna get out of that place, forgive me please" he grumbles jokingly as he sulks out of the room, mumbling about never getting any attention for how badass he is.

***

A few hours pass by and before I know it, I'm making the final touches to my makeup. A loud knock echoes in the room before Nat swings it wide open and struts in looking like a red-headed goddess. Her dark green off the shoulder dress clinging to her in all the right places. With one more stroke of my mascara brush I turn and face my best friend with a grin.

"You ready?"

"If you need me tonight, I'll be behind the bar, slowly drinking my boredom away" "Hey, am I such bad company?!"

"Well youuuu, missy is going to charm your way into Maximoff’s pants. Therefore, you will be too busy to entertain me tonight, Myshka"

"Nat, I don't think tonight is the right time, you saw how she looked in the kitchen today. She doesn't need me pestering her all night"

"Actually, it's the perfect time! Go an' comfort her and if you manage to slip in that you love her then great!" I roll my eyes in good nature before making my way to my door.

"Come on, Romanoff. I need a drink"

***

The party is too loud and overly crowded with people none of us really know with drinks flowing around every part of the room.

"Why does he always feel the need to throw a party every time we finish a mission?"

"Would he be Tony if he didn't? You gotta give him credit though this party is insane" Nat murmurs beside me, making me chuckle in agreement.

My eyes are already scanning for the beautiful brunette avenger. Nat notices me searching and shoves me forward slightly.

"Go find her, I'll be by the bar" with one last shove, I'm left by myself looking out into the crowd.

My eyes finally land on the brown-haired beauty, I bite my lip as I take in her form. A long black flowy dress falls just past her knees with the straps of the dress sitting comfortably just off the shoulder, giving me a great view of her cleavage. Her hair hangs curled and loose over her shoulders, her red lipstick perfectly in place.

God she's beautiful.

As I continue to take her in, I notice an unfamiliar arm resting around her waist. I look up to identify the persons whose arm it is and my heart stops as I witness this man lean his mouth to her ear and whisper some bullshit that makes her laugh out, he pulls back clearly satisfied with the response he got from her. As if sensing a presence her eyes turn and rest upon me, a soft smile forming on those red lips. I quickly drop my gaze and turn away from her, heading straight to the bar; trying hard to blend into the crowd.

"Why the sour face?" Nat questions as she instantly hands me a bottle from behind the bar.

"You didn't tell me she was seeing someone" I sulk to her before taking a big gulp from the bottle, cringing slightly at the bitter taste. Nat's eyebrows pinch together as if confused by my statement. She leans forward slightly over the bar to peer over my shoulder to take a good look at Wanda and the mystery man.

"Who? Matthews? Please that guy wishes he could have her. She's just being polite Y/N" Nat tries to reassure me, but I can't seem to remove the image out of my head.

"It's not like I stood a chance anyway" I grumble grabbing the vodka shot from Nats hand and letting the burning liquid flow down my throat. After a few hours of drinking with Nat; who’s now joined me on the other side of the bar, I start to feel the effects of the alcohol hit me as I laugh out loud from the stupid stories Nat seems to be sharing. Any thoughts of Wanda and her mystery guy fading into the background of my mind.

Or that's what I keep telling myself.

In my daze, I quickly lose my balance on the bar stool but before I could hit the floor, I feel a familiar strong arm wrap itself around me, steadying me on the stool.

"Careful Myshka, you'll end up on your ass" Nat teases as I start to lean heavily against her, sleep fighting to take over.

"Also, just to let you know Maximoff has been looking over here all night and throwing daggers at me, similar to the one she's throwing right now" Nat says clearly amused at the concept. She leans herself further towards me and traces her finger up and down my arm slightly, my eyes widen in surprise before she leans in and whispers:

"Just got with it"

Before I have a chance to question her, I feel a warm body pressed into my back. I gasp slightly at the faint smell of cherries and forest, the smell consuming my senses. I close my eyes briefly knowing that smell all too well. Her lips brush slightly against my ear, making me shiver.

"Can I talk to you in private, Y/N" I barely have time to nod before her arm is wrapping tightly around me and escorting away from Natasha and out of the room. Once we are alone, she releases her hold on me and starts to pace in front of me, her dress sway slightly with each turn. I stand watching her waiting for her to gather her thoughts, I bite my lip anxiously debating whether to make the first move. She stops suddenly and takes a deep breath in before releasing it into the open air and turning to look at me with a heartbroken expression.

"You've been avoiding me all night" I gape at her forwardness before replying defensively:

"No, I haven't, maybe you've been a little preoccupied with prince charming on steroids in there to notice me at all!" She frowns slightly, almost bashfully.

"You mean Matthews? Y/N that guy has a brain of a mouse. I was simply being polite. Anyway, you are one to talk! Are you and Nat ever going to go public because the way shes’s being all handsy with you tonight, you may as well let everyone know!" Now it's my turn to gape at her in shock becoming slightly annoyed.

I take a step towards her slightly wanting to keep her full attention on me as I feel the word vomit slowly creeping its way up my throat.

"Are you being serious right now?! Me and Nat are best friends that's never even been a thought! Are you so blind to see Wanda?! You think I'd go and pick up your favourite flowers every Thursday even though they make my nose itch and makes me sneeze because I thought they'd brighten up your bedroom? You have plants covering every window sill! You think I'd attempt to cook a dish that I can barely understand let alone cook and make a complete mess of it for just anyone?! Wanda you are always in my thoughts every day, the past two weeks have been torturing for me wondering when you'd be home. I missed you all the damn time! I missed our nights in where it was just the two of us watching crap reality television because even though we make fun of it we both secretly love the drama" She stares at me in shock, her lip twitching into a smile ever so slightly at the last part of my confession.

Her silence clearly an invitation for me to continue:

"But you really want to know what I missed about those nights while you've been gone. I missed watching your beautiful face scrunch up slightly as you slowly doze off with your head falling onto my shoulder. I would stay sitting in that upright position for hours if it meant keeping you like that, close to me. Wanda there could never be a me and Nat... you wanna know why? It's you, you idiot. I'm in love with you!"

Her emerald green eyes drop to the floor, suddenly finding it very interesting before a wide smile settles on her red lips and her eyes slowly make their way to meeting mine.

“You love me?”

“Yes I love you, you idiot” I whisper, shuffling slightly feeling uncomfortable and exposed with my feelings.

Before I can turn and hide away from my embarrassing confession, I feel warm, soft lips press hard against my own, the taste of vanilla chapstick lingers on my lips as I brush my tongue gently against her bottom lip making her gasp, granting me access. Our tongues clash, both fighting for dominance before pulling away slightly, my teeth catching her bottom lip gently and tugging at the soft skin softly before letting go with a small pop.

"If I'm an idiot, I'll be an idiot who’s in love with you too" she whispers breathlessly into the open air between us, her forehead resting gently against my own.

I smile.

#wanda maximoff x female!reader #my prompts #prompt request #wanda maxim #wanda #fluff #i hope it's good

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shypotato-translations · 3 years

Text

QTVW Chapter 21

Showbiz* Sexy Queen (VIII)

----

After this incident, Bai Jieying's gaze on Mei Mu Lan took on a vague disdain and condescending arrogance, and she was smart enough not to confront the crew with this attitude, but to specifically target Mei Mu Lan.

And after recalling the memories of the original owner, Mei Mu Lan found that this kind of contentious situation was actually the form of daily life between the original owner and Bai Jieying. After analyzing the Bai Jieying in her memories and the eyes of Bai Jieying now, she compared them and came to the conclusion that the eyes and expressions of Bai Jieying's original owner and the Bai Jieying after crossing over were exactly the same when she looked at Mei Mu Lan.

In this way, it seems likely that the traveler in front of her has obtained all the memories of the original Bai Jieying. Now, Mei Mu Lan and her situation are completely similar, both have lived in real life and both know the plot, and most importantly, they both have memories of the original owner who crossed over.

And the only difference is that the informed part of the plot is different.

Mei Mu Lan is right here in the plot, in a dominant position, but in other areas, the two are actually evenly matched.

Thinking of this, Mei Mu Lan would glare back with the same glare when she encountered Bai Jieying glaring at her again, and this behaviour of hers completely reassured Bai Jieying, dispelling the idea that this Mei Mu Lan in front of her was also a traveler.

And when Bai Jieying went to the director's side for her second audition, Mei Mu Lan secretly made a plan in her mind: next she had to spend a long time to observe this traveler's behavior, and the current image of Bai Jieying in the cast was all finely crafted and acted out, not real.

Then in order to see what she was really like, she had to get into Bai Jieying's daily life in order to do so.

When Mei Mu Lan thought of this, she decided to move out of Aunt Wen's house and go back to the Mei family for a while to see how she acted in her daily life and how she behaved in private, and once she was familiar with Bai Jieying's style and behaviour, she could plan for her subsequent task of "solving the travelers".

So, Mei Mu Lan waited until the day's filming was finished, then she immediately said goodbye to Ling Yi Yao and ''made out'', then drove back to Aunt Wen's villa. By the time she got home, Aunt Wen was not at home because she had a design job and had gone abroad to get some experience, so after thinking about it, Mei Mu Lan left a note which said,

“Aunt Wen, I've been out for so many years and I understand somewhat what my father did, so I'm going to move back in with the Mei family for a while and thank you for taking care of me, all these years!”

After writing it, she read it out a few times and found it to be quite fluent, so she left the note on the dining room table, turned to her room, packed her few bags and left the Wen family home.

Mei Mu Lan followed the route she remembered and drove back to the Mei family mansion in the wealthy residential area of the Second Ring Road.

Because the Mei family is a family of scholars that has been passed down for hundreds of years, the Mei family's mansion, which maintains the style of hundreds of years ago, is the modern well-known courtyard, in the modern world, such a set of courtyard, in the outside world can be sold for hundreds of millions of dollars, but this is really nothing for the Mei family.

The Mei family's family ethos pushes the boundaries of money and dirt, and the Mei family's family wealth ranks among the best in the world.

Mei Mu Lan drove back outside the Mei family home, she walked inside the old mansion and as far as the eye could see there were flower pots, water tanks, recliners…… and other furniture, all of which are relics of hundreds of years old, is an expression of the cultural heritage of the Mei family.

Mei Mu Lan casually swept a glance, and then saw that a middle-aged man wearing a Republican tunic greeted her, with a warm and kind smile on his face, the whole person gave people a feeling of a gentleman as gentle as jade.

He took the luggage from Mei Mu Lan and handed it to the maid who was waiting with his head down, then called out affectionately,

“Missy, you're back at last.”

Mei Mu Lan knew from memory that this man was the butler of the Mei family, the child of a friend of Grandpa Tai, and had been given the surname Mei after being brought back to the Mei family by Grandpa Tai when he was three years old.

He grew up in the house of Mei and was always brought up by the great lord of the Mei family. Although he was called a butler, his status was not that of a servant, but that of one of the rulers of the Mei family, managing the internal affairs of the house as well as some of the external affairs, a man of great means, loyal and intelligent.

He has a high status in the Mei family and most of the Mei family are close to him. Even Mei Mu Lan's father, who was the current head of the Mei family, would adopt a slightly friendly attitude when facing him.

When Mei Mu Lan thought of this, she lowered her eyebrows and smiled slightly poutingly,

“Butler Mei, it's been a long time, you're still as handsome as ever.”

The smile on Butler Mei's face deepened a little as he said,

“Miss, I am relieved to see you in such good spirits. No matter what happens at the Master's place, you will always be the Mei family's Miss in my heart, and as for that one and her daughter, you need not bother at all.”

Mei Mu Lan heard his concern for herself in his words, and she was moved to say,

“Thank you butler, I understand, I just want to go home for a while, no matter what, I am my father's own daughter, before I did not know what to do, and made my father and butler worry about me.”

With a relieved smile, Butler Mei said,

“It's good that you've figured it out. There's nothing in life that you can't get through. All external things are false, only blood is real. Now, I have ordered your room to be taken care of, you are tired today, go and rest, I will order someone to call you at dinner time.”

“Thank you, butler. I'll go to my room.”

After bidding farewell to the butler, Mei Mu Lan went back to the original owner's room.

When she opened the door, she saw a literary and elegant room, which was decorated with a combination of Chinese and foreign elements, which matched her imagination of a woman's bedroom from a scholarly family, whereas the original owner's room at Aunt Wen's house was filled with Ling Yi Yao's photos and dolls, which made Mei Mu Lan's heart feel creepy, but for the sake of the mission, she had to maintain this style, which was really depressing.

And this time, finally, she could stay in a normal room, whatever the purpose of going home this time, at least she slept much better and was sure that she could sleep well for the next while.

When she thinks of the original owner, she can't help but think of Ling Yi Yao. She is now numb to her "obsessed" state and as soon as she sees Ling Yi Yao, her whole being will automatically switch to another channel.

Fortunately, the villain this time, Ling Yi Yao, although ruthless and with blood on her hands, is a very nice person to be around when she is in normal society.

In the face of her own obsessions in and out of the film, she has not even expressed her displeasure verbally, which makes Mei Mu Lan often exclaim that the villain is really well brought up. If it were up to me, I would have taken such a character to the ends of the earth.

And Ling Yi Yao now, apart from a vague, emotionally unstable expression on her face as soon as she saw her, there was nothing else on her face, which reassured Mei Mu Lan and made her even more aggressive at the same time.

I feel like I've suddenly gone feckless, and it's definitely the fault of the cannon fodder girl!

When Bai Jieying returned to the house in the evening at the time the Mei family had set for dinner, she saw Mei Mu Lan sitting on the sofa, sipping tea in a dignified manner, and then gave her usual snide remarks, it was only when her mother made a glib remark to stop her that she skipped away and walked over to her mother and sat down affectionately.

Mei Mu Lan watched coldly, this Bai Jieying was gentle and kind on the set, pouting and half-angry at home, and in front of her stepmother, she was like a real child, chattering about what had happened on the set today.

Her mother learned from her that she and Mei Mu Lan were filming in the same production, so she glanced at Mei Mu Lan from top to bottom.

In a lighter tone, she said,

“Mu Lan, you are from a scholarly family, the family style of your Mei family is to despise the lowest class such as opera singers, if your father finds out about your acting, he will definitely be angry, so think again, change your job, I remember that you sang Peking Opera very well before, you can continue to go into that profession, it is after all something your mother taught you, it is always bad to leave it behind.”

Mui Mu Lan, with her long, narrow eyes, said with the aura of a Peking opera, singing and chanting in a long, short voice,

“You know, I don't know what this lady is to me. What does the affairs of our Mei family have to do with you, a second-married woman? You claim to be a member of the Mei family, but in the olden days, you would not have been worthy to carry the shoes of a Mei family servant.

You think that just because you have my father's help, you can really do whatever you want. The Mei family has been passed down for a hundred years, and although my father is the patriarch, he has less resources at his disposal. And who are you to talk to me like that? I have a good temper, otherwise I would have asked someone to slap your mouth!”

Her stepmother's brain ached with anger at her sharp, eloquent tongue, and she trembled, raising her hand and pointing, unable to say a word.

And Bai Jieying, at this moment, had a weird smile on her face, looking straight at Mei Mu Lan without saying a word.

Mei Mu Lan put down her cup of tea in bemusement, then said to Mei's butler who was beside her, watching the show as an invisible person,

“I'm also the recognized next head of the Mei family, so if I don't show them what I'm made of, they'll think I'm a paperweight.”

With that, she stood up, glanced scornfully at the two women with different faces, tilted her head proudly, and turned to leave.

In the days that followed, Mei Mu Lan went to the film set during the day and flirted with Ling Yi Yao; at night, she returned to the Mei family to anger her stepmother, and lived a very happy life.

Although she and Bai Jieying live under the same roof and work on the same set, they are never together, always staggering their time and appearing one after the other in full view of others. This also made the crew aware of the fact that the two sisters were not on good terms.

Even so, Mei Mu Lan's concern for Bai Jieying did not diminish by half.

She was following the movements of Bai Jieying every moment, and she found that Bai Jieying was now a queen of all changes, her acting skills were perfect, in life, in acting, in and out of film, and she was showing her superb acting skills all the time.

While watching Bai Jieying act, Mei Mu Lan secretly instructed the detective to continue filming and tracking Bai Jieying's whereabouts.

She put it all together and waited for the day when it would come in handy.

Three months later, the crew of 《The Burial Man》had completed all the indoor filming and it was time to shoot outdoors.

After much deliberation, the director decided to head immediately to the Kunlun Mountains for a real outdoor shooting.

#shypotato #yuri #transmigration #world hopping #QTVW21

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zuzu-firequeen · 4 years

Text

Fire Queen

~Zuko X OC~

0. 1.

Thank you, Lee

I watch the water crash into the ship's side, sighing as the wind brushes my face. “You keep acting like this and we’re going to get caught. You look like you’re in love with the water.” I look down at Zori as she smirks. I turn around leaning against the railing. “You’re right. Sorry, It’s just so beautiful compared to home.” I pull out Iroh’s old worn journal and read over the words and dates to make sure we’re on track. “We’re not far behind them. Maybe a week or two.” I smile as I read over Iroh’s words while trotting to our cabin.

“We should keep away from-” “Truble, watch out!” I gasp as I trip and fall only to be caught in two arms inches from the deck. I look up to meet golden orbs staring down into my brown ones. “I am so sorry. I should’ve been watching where I was going.” I gaze over his features, admiring the large scar covering his eye. A scar from battle no doubt. “You should wat-” “It was entirely our fault, miss. I’m glad you did not take a fall.” A kind voice rips over my savior's harsh words.

I look over meeting the kind amber eyes as I stand up straight.

“Oh shi-” I shove the worn book behind my back into Zori’s stomach, knocking the wind out of her before she finishes her statement. “Hello, fellow refugees! I am, Mushi, and this is my nephew, Lee.”

One or two weeks my ass.

I smile at Iroh and press my hand out in front of me. “Truble, and this is my little sister, Zori.” Iroh shakes our hands in glee as Zuko stands put with his arms crossed. “I am very sorry. Thank you for catching me, Lee.” I smile at him and pat his arm. Why am I touching him? Why did I do that? Personal space much, Truble?

He looks down at my hand, causing me to remove it. His cheeks glow a light pink as he looks at the sea mumbling, “You’re welcome.”

“Right! Well, if you two… need anything. I can help - we can help.” I rush my words feeling my cheeks heat up. “Yeah, but not right now. See you two around!” Zori grabs my wrist and runs away with me.

She walks inside the cabin and shuts the door sealing us inside. “What was that? We can help you? You’re by far the weirdest person they’ve ever met!” “I panicked, okay? Iroh has these dates all wrong! We’re right on course with them. If I knew I was going to knock right into him I would’ve had something planned!”

Zori shakes her head, her long black hair flowing over her shoulders. “You’re as red as your hair.” She giggles at me. “I am not!” “You think he’s cute don’t you?” I roll my eyes flipping through the book again. “That’s gross, Zori. He’s old in our timeline. Not to mention dead.” “This was your timeline before Sav jumped ship.” I groan, “I thought you came on this trip to help me.” “It’s not my fault you’re in love.” “I am not!” Zori smirks, shrugging her shoulders. “Sure thing, Red.” I close the book pointing at her. “One more word and you’re going overboard, missy.” Zori bursts into laughter. “Come on. Let’s get going before you draw any more attention with all your flirting.” She pushes me forward through the small hallway towards our cabin.

I lay out the maps and reread everything in the journal about this week and then next to come while writing everything down in my book. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

Zori sits up from her mat. “How so? All we have to do is play along until we meet the Avatar. Then we make friends and boom. Fire Lord gone. Happy ending.” I put my pen down gazing at her defeated. “Zori, if I was a good actress I would’ve gone into theater, not heroism.” She sits next to me and holds my shoulders looking in my eyes.

Zuko and her had similar eyes.

“Listen to me. I wouldn’t come here if I didn’t know this was all going to work out. I have faith in you.” I smile hugging her close. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” I look down at her pin in confusion. “Did you take my dad’s time pin?” She looks down at the golden coin. “What? No.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Zori.” “No, Truble. Would I lie to you?” “Yes.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah, maybe I borrowed it.” “Does he know?” “I don’t know yet.” “You’re impossible, kid.” I laugh, shaking my head. “Your parents have a handful don’t they?” She smiled looking at her shoes. “Oh, you have no idea. These swords? Yeah. Borrowed from my dad.” Zori’s laugh fills the room as I continue to plan every move from the detailed writings.

Zori and I rest along the side around the deck watching other passengers. I feel eyes burning into my back as I stare out into the dark waters. "Lee is staring at you." Zori whispers as she tugs on my sleeve. I peek around my shoulder and indeed, the banished price is staring at me, but when he catches my eyes he quickly averts his gaze back to his food. "He is a curious guy." “Iroh never told you anything about him?” “Very little. Almost nothing. I never pushed the matter. It was a sensitive topic.”

-Zuko-

She leans against the side watching the waves as we sail. "You're staring again, nephew." I glance over at him. "I'm studying. They're curious." Iroh hums as he eats his food.

Jett passes food we had collected out to the other refugees on the deck. Uncle pushes two bowls of soup towards me. "I have plenty, uncle." "Good, because you're going to take this over to that lovely young girl and her sister. Have them join us." I widen my eyes as he smiles at me. "She looks comfortable where she is." Uncle shrugs. "If you're too scared I can just call them over." "UNCLE! NO!"

"TRUBLE! ZORI!"

I slam my hand over my face as Truble waves. "Uncle. Stop it." I beg in a mumble. "JOIN US!" I clear my throat and look away as they near us. "Smile." Uncle pokes my knee.

"Hello Mushi, Lee," Truble speaks as she sits next to me, her sister sitting on her right. "Hello," I speak looking at my food. My uncle pokes my knee once more and coughs as he pushes the bowls to me.

I pick them up and turn to Truble. "Would you and your sister like some soup?" She smiles and I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks. “Yes, thank you, Lee.” I pass her the bowls one by one, our fingers brushing each time. “You’re welcome.”

“Hi there.” Jett stolls over with his two fighters. “You look like trouble.” he chuckles as he gazes at Truble. Zori laughs in her soup. “Do I know you?” Truble asks.

“Jett. These are my freedom fighters Longshot and Smellerbee.” “I’m Truble.” “And I’m chopped liver apparently,” I smirk at the young girl as her sister glares at her. “And if I was able to finish... My sister, Zori.” Zori nods her head, winking at Jett. “Nice to meet you.”

I roll my eyes at Zori sipping my soup. “Your name is actually Truble? Like Trouble?” Smellerbee asks me with a grin. “Story of my life.” I laugh along with them. “Where are your parents if I may ask?” Iroh asks with a sad smile. I inhale and set my soup down. “They’re not... in this land anymore. It’s just the two of us. Right, Z?” I nudge her, removing her attention from Jet. “Yeah, just us. Sad isn't it? We’re just trying to make it on our way. Two girls just getting by.”

Okay, overkill. Cut it out.

“I am very sorry to hear that. We offer our assistance to you both.” Iroh grins as he passes a cup of tea. “This soup tastes amazing. I never had things like this at home.” I hum enjoying the taste. “Soup?” Zuko asks out in shock. I look down at the bowl then back at him. “Yeah. It’s been tough since... I was born, I guess. This is the first time I’m seeing an open section of water.” Zuko frowns, placing his hand upon mine. “I’m sorry.” He removes his touch as soon as it warms the skin. “Don’t be. I loved my family and we were very happy.” Jett pipes up. “Well, you’re in luck. From what I heard, people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se. I can't wait to set my eyes on that giant wall.”

“It is a magnificent sight,” Iroh speaks in recollection. “So you've been there before?” He nods looking down. “Once, when I was a different man.”

“Everyone has done things in the past they regret, but we’re all going to Ba Sing Se, right? New beginnings. A second chance.” I say smiling at the man who sees me as a mystery. “That's very noble of you, Truble. I believe people can change their lives if they want to. I believe in second chances.”

“I do too.” I notice Iroh gives Zuko a meaningful stare out of care. What a mystery lies within his past.

Late into the night, I stand at the edge overlooking the fog running along the water in the distance. “You’re very entranced with the water, someone might take you for a bender,” Zuko says as he comes up behind me. I gasp turning around.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckles stepping away. “No, you’re alright. I was expecting Zori if anything.” I laugh turning back as he comes to stand next to me. “This is all new to you.”

“Yes. My home was… barren and burnt.” Zuko looks down at the water. “Fire Nation.” I nod with a sad smile. “It doesn’t mean they’re all bad. I know some citizens of the fire nation who care very much for others.” At this Zuko’s shoulders relax and he rests his hands on the wood, next to mine.

“I’d like to invite you and Zori to join my uncle and I. We can protect you.” I look over at him smirking. “Protection? What makes you think I need to be protected, Lee?” His hand flies to his neck. “Nothing… I just assumed you-” I laugh cutting his sentence short. “I’m joking. I would appreciate it a lot actually.” His lip tugs up in a smile he fights to hold off. “I’ll let my uncle know. He will be happy. He enjoys your company.” “He is a kind man.”

Silence grows between us as the waves crash. “I have scars too.” I removed my jacket to show him my scar on my arm from running from guards when I was younger. “Just in case you wanted to ever… talk about it. Zori thinks it’s pretty cool. I have to agree.”

Zuko looks at me in confusion. “You think this is some mark of pride?” He hollers in a fit. “No. I just know what it’s like to be ashamed of the past.” I Zuko looks at me in shock as he clicks everything together. “Gotcha.” I smile, averting my gaze back to the water. “We all have a past, Lee, but it can ever defy who we are today.” He looks down at me and shows a small smile. “Goodnight, Lee.” I say backing away from the edge and leaving him in his thoughts.

I walk on the deck with Zori and catch eyes with Iroh quickly. “Good morning! How was your night? You look well-rested, Zori.” He jokes in a sarcastic tone. “Oh, great, the old man has jokes too.”

“Good morning, Truble. Would you like some tea?” Zuko asks from beside me with a grin. “Sure. What’s got you all happy?” He passes the cup to me. “We will arrive in Ba Sing Se today.”

Right. That’s why. Duh.

“You’re telling me. I’m sick of this swaying back and forth.” “I think it’s relaxing.” Zori scoffs, “You would.” I chuckle as I sip the tea. It’s hot. I look down at the steaming liquid in confusion.

Maybe they heated it early this morning.

As we enter the ticket gate an Earth Kingdom official with a sour face looks over our four papers dubiously. “So, Mr. Lee, Ms. Truble, Zori, and Mr.... umm Mushy is it?” “It's pronounced Moo-shee.” She glares at Iroh from over the desk. “You telling me how to do my job?” I bite my lip as I watch the encounter. “This will go either really well. Or really bad.” I whisper to Zuko. “I’m hoping for the second.” I cross my arms. “I don’t know. I’d like to see you scale the wall.” I smirk at him nudging his arm. He shakes his head hiding his curved smile, mumbling, “You’re ridiculous.” “But I made you smile.”

Iroh steps towards the desk wearing a large grin. “Uh, no, no, no. But may I just say that you're like a flower in bloom, your beauty intoxicating.” I bite back a laugh and cover Zori’s mouth as she cackles. The woman smiles down at Iroh, obviously charmed. “You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself. Roarrr. Welcome to Ba Sing Se.” She stamps our papers and pushes them forward.

I smirk at Iroh as he passes our papers out. “Nice work there, Mushie.” Zuko snatches his paper from Iroh, disgusted. “I'm gonna forget I saw that.” I burst in laughter following them to sit down.

I spin my coin in my fingers as we wait in silence. “I like your necklace. Where’d you get it?” Zuko asks from beside me. “My father made it for me before I was born. It’s a family tradition.” “Well you- it’s very beautiful.” I smile at Zuko feeling the heat capture in my cheeks. “Thank you, Lee.”

His eyes gleam with golden flakes of fire. “Do you think you’ll enjoy the capital?” Zuko nods. “It will be different, but I’m glad there are others with us. Like you.” I smile at him forgetting everything I came here for. “Really?” Zuko leans on the stone arm of the chair, leaning closer to me, our faces inches apart. “Really.” Jett plops down next to Zuko pulling my attention away.

Oh, my spirits. We are like… really close. What was I planning to do? I move back with red cheeks and look over to my right to see Zori and Iroh smirking at me. I sit back in my chair, slumping with embarrassment.

“So, you guys got plans once you're inside the city?” Jett asks everyone. “I'd like to see Truble perform for an audience.” Zori pipes up. "Preform what?" "She's got a killer voice." I shake my head in denial. "I do not. It's for fun." "I'd like to hear you sing, Truble." Zuko grins at me.

Maybe once...

“Get your hot tea here! Finest tea in Ba Sing Se!” A Tea Peddler yells. I smile and raise my hand just as Iroh does the same. “Jasmine, please!” Iroh and I ask at the same time. He points a finger at me smiling. “I had a feeling about you.” I grin at him. “You have no idea, Mushi.”

The peddler pours tea into two cups for Iroh and I. “Cheers, Truble.” As soon as the tea hits my lips I spit it back in. “Blaugh! Ugh. Coldest tea in Ba Sing Se is more like it. What a disgrace!” Iroh complains as I agree. “False advertising. My mother had a recipe for a white leaf honey tea that was so sweet. It was like eating candy.” “Oh, we must make it!”

Zori pulls on my sleeve and smiles at me. “Take a walk with me?” I look at her and smile. She needs to tell me something. I nod standing, taking notice Zuko is talking with Jett to the side. “Mushie, we will be right back.” He waves us off with a smile. “We won’t leave without you.”

Zori and I make a round through the station. “You need to say something, kid? Or did you have to stretch your legs?” She smirks at me. “I wanted to talk about, Lee.”

-Zuko-

Jet hits my leg as Truble and my uncle gush over the tea. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” I rose reluctantly and sigh, following him away from the company. “You and I have a much better chance of making it in the city if we stick together. You want to join the Freedom Fighters?” Jet asks me with a confident smirk. “Thanks, but I don't think you want me in your gang.”

“Come on, we made a great team looting that Captain's food. Think of all the good we could do for these refugees. You can take care of your girl no problem.” “My girl?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. Jet nods his head to Truble who is laughing away with uncle Iroh. I look back to Jet. “I said no.”

Walking back I notice the two girls gone, and my uncle now holding a steaming cup of tea. I look back towards Jet, who now wears a look of hostile suspicion on his face as he turns and walks off. Watching him leave, I abruptly turn and push the cup of tea from his uncle's hand. A simple ancient.

“Hey!” I lean down to him, whispering through gritted teeth. “What are you doing firebending your tea?! For a wise old man, that was a pretty stupid move.” Iroh looks at his tea with a frown. “I know you're not supposed to cry over spilled tea, but... that's so sad.”

“Where are the girls?” I ask, crossing my arms. Uncle sniffles stop as he looks up at me smiling. “What?” “Where are who?” “The girls, Uncle.” “The pretty one or the small sassy one?” I slump in my seat silently.

“The beautiful one,” I grumble watching people pass. “On a walk with the little sassy one.” He chuckles. I nod, relaxed knowing her whereabouts. “You think she’s beautiful?” He asks teasingly. “Stop it, Uncle,” I mumble fighting the smile as it creeps on my face.

#prince zuko #zuko x reader #fire lord zuko #zuko x oc #zuko imagine #prince zuko imagine #avatar the legend of aang #avatar the last airbender #avatar #aang #katara #sokka #toph #water tribe #fire nation #fire bender #air bender #earth bender #four elements

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slippinmickeys · 4 years

Text

Seeing as how the world is basically ending, I figured I may as well post the whole thing now. If Tumblr lets me. Tagging @storybycorey

You can also read the whole thing on AO3 here.

Dana Scully was running late. Flustered and out of breath from running the few blocks from the Metro stop, she pushed through the doors of the coffee shop, startling a young mom who was pushing a stroller out the door.

“Sorry,” she said, apologizing, and then held the door open while the woman slowly navigated the stroller through the narrow doorway. When she was out, Dana finally stepped in and scanned the store, looking for familiar auburn curls.

Her sister Melissa held up a hand and stood as Dana approached.

“Missy!” Dana said, relieved to see her.

Melissa gave her a long, tight hug before reclaiming her seat. Melissa’s hugs were the kind you always wanted to get. Like she’d cultivated them in a field, each one grown in a tidy row, just for you.

“Everything all right?” Melissa said, as Dana, huffing and out of breath, shrugged off her jacket and swung her purse over the back of a chair.

“No,” she said, laughing at herself and Melissa’s eyebrows came together in

sympathy, “but tell me about you first. How was your flight? God, it’s been so long!” She reached across and squeezed her older sister’s hand.

Melissa had flown back to the States only the day before, having spent the last two years living in England.

“I’m great!” Missy said, “living abroad has been incredible. I almost hated to come back.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” Dana said.

In truth, she was glad. She’d missed her sister terribly, but Missy had needed a big change. She’d dropped out of college several years before, much to their parent’s horror, and Melissa had been too spirited to live long under their father’s roof. Her sister looked wonderful. Clearly the time abroad had been good to her.

“But, what’s happening with you? What’s going on?” Melissa said.

Dana blew a raspberry.

“I’m in a tight spot,” she finally said, “We just found out this morning that Ellen got the internship in Seattle for the summer. It’s the one she wanted, and I’m really excited for her, but it’s not paid, so she won’t be able to cover her half of the rent -- she leaves in two days and rent for next month is due in five. We’ve got three more months on the lease. I’ve got to find someone to sublease her room, like yesterday.” She felt panic bubbling up in her gut. “I don’t suppose you have any interest in staying in DC for the summer?” she asked Melissa hopefully.

“Oh, I wish I could,” Missy said, “but I’m registered for massage therapy classes at the National Holistic Institute in Baltimore for the summer. Mom and Dad have calmed down and I’m going to stay with them while I get certified.”

“Missy, that’s wonderful!” She tried to smile at her, but she knew it didn’t reach her eyes. Dana was excited for her sister, but had been holding out a hope that maybe Missy coming back Stateside would be an answer to her prayers.

“What about Ethan?” Melissa asked, lowering her voice unconsciously, “Couldn’t he move in with you for the summer? It’s only three months, Mom and Dad don’t need to know.”

Dana bit her lip.

“We broke up,” she said. Melissa’s eyes widened.

“June and Ward Cleaver broke up?” Melissa said, in shock. “When? I thought….”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Dana knew what Melissa thought. What everyone had thought. She and Ethan, together since their sophomore year of high school and enrolled in the same post-grad program at Georgetown, were the all-American couple. They, and everyone else, had assumed they would be engaged after they got their PhDs, and married not long after.

“Last month,” Dana said, looking down at her hands.

Melissa reached across the table and put her hand on Dana’s arm.

“What happened?”

“We grew up,” Dana said simply, “we’re different people, now. At least, I am. I’ve been thinking about making some changes at school and Ethan… was not supportive.”

Melissa squeezed her arm.

“What kind of changes?” she asked.

Dana looked up at her sister, “I’ve been seriously considering med school for some time.”

“But you’re so close to your degree!” Missy said.

“That’s what Ethan said,” said Dana, “but he was just so… dismissive. Like he had this plan for me. Like what I wanted didn’t matter. It was bad, Missy.”

“God,” Missy said.

“Yeah,” Dana went on, “he found out I took the MCAT and lost it. I broke up with him then and there. I haven’t seen him since. Not even on campus.”

Melissa gave her a shrewd look.

“Can I say something that you may not want to hear?”

Dana nodded morosely.

“I’m so glad,” Dana shot her sister a look, surprised. Melissa went on, “I never liked him, Dana. I know Mom and Dad loved him, but he’s had a stick up his ass since high school and he always thought he was better than everyone else. I used to sneak out and sprinkle catnip under his bedroom window in the summers.”

Dana’s jaw dropped.

“He used to complain all the time about-”

“-Tom cats in the neighborhood gathering outside his house and howling all night? Yeah, that was me.”

“Missy!”

“He deserved it,” Melissa said, sitting up with an air of moral superiority, “I’m glad you broke it off with him.”

“To be honest, I am too,” Dana said, “but I’m in a real lurch with this roommate situation. I don’t want to take out another student loan and I don’t think I can ask Dad for more money. Especially when he finds out I’m abandoning the program.”

“So you’re quitting for sure?” Melissa asked.

Dana nodded. “I just got the MCAT results and I did really well,” she couldn’t hold in a smile, “I told my advisor last week. I’m finishing out the summer. I’m going to start applying to med schools.”

“Well,” Missy said, “I’m glad you’re following your heart. And I wouldn’t worry much about Dad. He’ll be thrilled to have a doctor in the family. But maybe not so thrilled about bankrolling a degree you don’t intend to finish.”

Dana squirmed in her chair.

Melissa leaned back, thinking.

“What about…” she stopped, assessing Dana for a moment. “I have this friend. Someone I met in England last year. Moving to DC to be closer to family.”

Dana sat up straight.

“Do you know if she needs housing? Oh my God, Missy, you’d be saving my life.”

“The thing is,” Missy said, “it’s not a she.”

Dana made a face.

“He’s a great guy, Dane,” Melissa went on, “PhD in Psychology from Oxford. I met him when he was dating my friend Emma. His parents passed away recently and he’s putting his sister through school. She was a freshman at American this year. I can call him if you want.”

“I don’t know…” Dana said.

“Dana Scully, you are a 25 year old woman and it’s almost 1990 for God’s sake. Surely you’re not so old fashioned that you wouldn’t consider a male roommate. Particularly one that I can personally vouch for.”

“I don’t suppose he’s… gay?”

“You heard me mention my friend Emma, right?” Missy said, “No, he’s most certainly not gay, and no one is going to care that he isn’t. This isn’t Three’s Company, Chrissy. You need a roommate, and he--last I heard--needs a place to live. It’s perfect.”

It was only three months. Surely in this day and age having a male roommate wouldn’t give her some kind of reputation. And she was desperate--she would at least meet the guy. She leaned back in her seat.

“He isn’t cute, is he?” Dana asked.

Melissa narrowed her eyes.

“Cute?”

“Attractive. Hot. Someone with pleasing facial symmetry who other people like to look at.”

“Like you?” Melissa said. Dana gave her an exaggerated eye roll, and her sister asked, “Why?”

“Because it’s the last thing I need right now,” Dana said.

Melissa took a demure sip of coffee.

“No,” she said, not making eye contact, “he’s not cute.”

Dana considered her sister a long minute.

“Okay,” she finally said, “call him.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

At precisely 3:00pm, there was a knock on her door. Shave and a haircut.

He was punctual -- more than she could say for herself that day -- and that usually boded well.

Instead of sticking around to introduce them, Missy had said she had other friends she was supposed to see while she was in town and had taken off after setting up this meeting, though she promised Dana she would still come over for dinner.

Dana opened the door. He was tall. At least a foot taller than she was, and he stood in the doorway with a smile on his face. He was wearing a black leather biker jacket, jeans and black boots and was carrying a motorcycle helmet under one arm. Dana was momentarily taken aback by his good looks. She would kill Melissa.

“Dana?” he said, expectantly, reaching out for a handshake, “I’m Melissa’s friend. Fox Mulder.”

“I thought you’d be British,” she said, the words fumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He smiled.

Dana shook herself, embarrassed, and extended a hand.

“Dana Scully,” she said, “sorry. Come in?”

“I met your brother when he came out to visit Melissa,” he said as he shook her hand, “one more Scully and I win a set of steak knives.”

“You’re in luck,” she said, smiling, “we Scullys come in sets of four.”

He laughed and wiped his feet on the welcome mat before stepping past her and into the apartment. He stood a few feet in and looked around.

“Wow,” he said, “this is a really nice place.”

Dana nodded and closed the door. It was a nice place. Much nicer than two broke grad students had any business living in. It had cathedral ceilings, hardwood floors and a large, spacious living room framed on one side with immense sliding glass doors that opened to a long balcony that ran the length of the room. On the other end of the living room sat a modern kitchen with a large island countertop that sat three people on the living room side, and had a 4 burner cooktop on the other. The appliances were pretty new. There was a hallway leading from the other end of the living room that led to one bathroom and a bedroom (Ellen’s), with a small in-unit washer/dryer at the end of the hall. Stairs led up from the left of the doorway to the master bedroom (Dana’s) and en-suite bathroom that had a separate tub and shower. The place was filled with hand-me-down furniture from various parents and siblings, but was decorated well and was quite comfortable.

“Rent controlled,” she said, by way of explanation, “my roommate’s brother had lived here for years. We got really lucky.” He nodded, still taking in the space. “You want a tour?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said, smiling.

She showed him the living room and the trick to opening the sliding glass door, then ran him through the kitchen and on down the hallway to Ellen’s room, which was a disaster area filled with half-packed boxes.

“This would be your room,” she said, “I promise to clean it before you move in.”

“Nah,” he said, peeking his head in the closet, “I’d be happy to do it. When would move-in be?”

“You could be in in two days,” she answered, “Ellen flies to Seattle tomorrow night, though you wouldn’t know it to look at her room.”

He smiled.

“I don’t know if Melissa told you about my situation,” he said, “everything has been happening kind of quickly. You’d really be saving my bacon, here.”

“She told me a little,” Dana said, “I’m really sorry about your parents, Fox.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. He cleared his throat. “Though, I uh, prefer to go by Mulder.”

“Fair enough,” Dana said. “Though there’s no way you ever got Melissa to call you anything other than Fox. I bet she was delighted.”

He laughed, a melodious, warm sound. Upon hearing it, she decided she liked him.

“And then some,” he said. “So what do I need to know?”

“Well, it would be a sublease for three months, until Ellen gets back. I may or may not be moving out in the fall, and our lease goes month-to-month after that.” He nodded. “Otherwise,” she said, “I mainly do a lot of studying. I have office hours and classes three days a week. I’m not big on house parties, and I like things quiet.” She looked at him, and he didn’t seem thrown by anything she’d said so far. “Do you…” she was sure how to put it, “have a girlfriend or anyone who would be coming over a lot?”

He smiled.

“No girlfriend at present,” he said, “though my sister is at AU and she may come over every now and then if she’ll deign to visit her stuffy older brother.”

His eyes crinkled with affection when he talked about his sister, and Dana found herself involuntarily charmed.

“And what do you do for a living?” she asked.

He winced.

“I’m currently looking for work,” he held his hand up when she raised her eyebrows, “I have enough in savings to more than cover three months of rent,” he said, “so you don’t have to worry about that. But I only got into town a few days ago. I’m still trying to figure everything out.”

“Melissa vouches for you,” she said, “that’s good enough for me.”

He fiddled with the helmet, which he was still carrying, and took a long, slow turn, looking around the apartment, as if making a decision. He finally turned back to her.

“Well, Scully Number Three?” he said, holding out his hand once again. “You’ve got a new roommate if you’ll have me.”

“No need to remind me of my place in the pecking order,” she said, “if you’re Mulder, I think just Scully will suffice.” Scully. She let it roll down her spine and liked the way it felt. She reached out and gripped his hand firmly. It was warm, dry, and completely enveloped hers. “Welcome home, Mulder,” she said.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Melissa breezed past her in the doorway without a word, arms laden with plastic bags.

“I brought take-out!” she said over her shoulder, kicking off her shoes and making her way to the kitchen to unburden herself of the bags. “Is Fox still here?” she asked, looking around, a little out of breath.

“He left about an hour ago,” Dana said, coming to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. “Melissa,” she went on, and Missy wouldn’t look at her. “You said he wasn’t cute.”

Melissa opened the fridge and helped herself to a beer.

“He’s not cute,” Missy said, finally turning to her, “he’s gorgeous. You’re welcome.” She twisted off the top and then shoved herself up to sit on the counter, taking a long pull.

“Make yourself at home,” Dana said sarcastically.

“Thanks,” Missy said, brushing her off. “How’d it go?”

“You’re right, he was really nice. He’s going to take it,” Dana said, and then decided she could go for a beer as well. She opened up the fridge as Missy punched the air in a yes! gesture.

“What did I tell you?” Melissa said, “kismet.”

“Yeah,” Dana said, tamping down her own enthusiasm, “I hope it works out.”

“It’s going to be great!” Missy said, “He really is the best guy.”

“Did you guys ever…?” Dana asked, wondering if she really wanted to know.

“Me and Fox? No,” she answered, “not that I wouldn’t have liked to,” she went on, “but I think the whole ‘thou shalt not date your best friend’s ex’ rule is pretty universal. Even across the pond.”

Dana was surprised to find herself relieved.

“I am privy to some information, though,” Missy said, arching an eyebrow.

“Do I even want to know?” Dana asked.

Missy ran her tongue along the corner of her mouth.

“He’s very well endowed,” she finally said with a grin.

Dana felt herself blushing and took a deep swig of beer to cover for it.

“Unless it’ll help him pay the rent,” she said, swallowing, “I don’t see how that’s any of my business.”

Melissa shrugged, looking coy. “I’ve also heard he loves to eat out,” she said.

“What does that have to do with-“ Dana finally looked at her sister, caught her eyebrows in the air, suggestively. “...Jesus, Missy.”

Melissa smiled, took a sip of beer.

“I’m just saying,” Melissa said, “a generous lover is a generous man.” Dana looked to the sky as if for help. Her sister was clearly enjoying Dana’s discomfort. She finally jumped down off the counter and turned her attention to the bags of food. “You could do a lot worse than Fox Mulder.”

“I’m not going to do Fox Mulder, Missy,” she said, and Missy let out a bark of laughter. “I need a roommate, not a boyfriend. And anyway, I’m going to be in med school soon. I won’t have that kind of time.”

“Make time,” Melissa winked, and then dug around in the bags, pulling out carton after carton of Chinese food. “You hungry?”

Dana set down her beer and hugged her from behind.

“I’m famished, you snot,” she said into her sister’s hair.

XxXxXxXxXxX

On move-in day, Mulder showed up at her (their) door at 9:00am sharp, wearing a ratty Oxford University sweatshirt and an anxious expression.

“Hey,” he said, when she opened the door, “I got a buddy downstairs with a truck. Where should he park it?”

“Follow me,” Scully said, and grabbed her keys off the hook by the door. She led him down the stairs and around to the back of the building.

“We’ve got two parking spots,” she said, “though I don’t have a car. You can have him pull in here. The one next to it is yours. You ride a motorcycle, right?”

He nodded and then jogged to the corner and called out to the friend he had waiting, who pulled into the alley and then leaned out of the open window.

“Frohike, Scully, Dana Scully, my buddy Melvin Frohike,” Mulder introduced them.

“Last name basis with everyone, huh?” Scully said to Mulder in a low voice. He smiled.

“She’s hot,” was all Frohike said, and Mulder flipped him off and then directed him into the narrow space.

Scully looked down at her jean cut-offs and baggy, laundry-day tee shirt. She wasn’t exactly dressed for Prime Time.

Frohike cut the engine, jumped out and they all gathered around the back of the truck. There were about a dozen medium sized boxes and no furniture.

“Is this it?” Scully asked.

“I am but a humble nomad,” Mulder said, “taking only what I can carry.”

“What he means is that he sold almost all his shit when he left England,” Frohike said, “I hope you have pots and pans.”

Scully laughed.

“I do, and you’re welcome to use them,” she said, “Five bucks a pop for utensils, though.”

“I like her,” said Frohike, hooking a thumb at Scully as he pulled down the tailgate.

They had everything up and into Mulder’s bedroom in less than ten minutes.

“I’m off,” said Frohike, the second he set the last box down on Mulder’s floor. “It was nice meeting you, Scully.”

“Likewise,” said Scully, who was leaning against the frame of Mulder’s door.

On his way out, Frohike paused by Scully and leaned into her confidentially.

“If he tries to seduce you, let him down easy. The man’s got no game,” he said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Scully said and then cut a look to Mulder who looked more than a little glad to see the back of Frohike.

“Where’d you pick him up?” Scully said, once the front door had closed behind him.

“I collect strays,” Mulder said simply, peeling the tape off of one of the boxes.

Scully took a step back into the hallway.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she said. Then, “Oh! Here’s your key,” she stepped back into his room, and handed over the single key. “It works on the building doors and the apartment deadbolt. Sometimes you have to wiggle it a bit on the lock by the garage.”

Mulder nodded his thanks and she backed out.

“Let me know if you need help or anything,” she called out over her shoulder.

XxXxXxXxXxX

A few hours later, she knocked on his door.

“I come bearing gifts,” she said, holding up a pizza box and a six pack of Shiner Bock.

“Marry me,” he said, and she smiled, looking around the room. He’d hung clothes in the closet, and had all his other meager possessions in various small stacks around the room. He’d broken down the boxes and had them sitting neatly by the door. He looked exhausted.

“There’s Spartan furnishings, and then there’s this,” she said, and he shrugged, chagrined.

“I’ll need to do some shopping in the immediate future, I’ll grant you,” he said.

“The good news is, I have a real table with real chairs not eight yards from your bedroom door.” She held up the pizza and six pack once again, “Come on,” she said, “your piles aren’t going anywhere.”

He followed her to the kitchen and she gave him a quick rundown of what cabinets held what, pulling down plates and glasses. She pulled out two beers and slid the rest of the six pack back in the fridge.

She opened them both and handed him one. He clinked the bottles together.

“Happy housewarming,” she said.

“Slainte,” he said, and they both took a slug.

A semi-comfortable silence descended on them, and Scully filled it by sliding a couple slices of pizza on her plate. Mulder sat back and pushed the sleeves of his sweatshirt up his forearms. They looked tanned even in the washed out light of the kitchen and were roped with muscle and sprinkled with dark hair.

“Ever wonder why they call it a housewarming?” Mulder asked.

“I never really thought about it,” she said, and then leaned forward. “But now I want to know.”

She looked at him and he smiled back.

“Fire is a classic symbol of strength and purity, which is why many European traditions involve lighting a candle or a fire on your first night in a new home. Doing so is said to ward off evil spirits by casting away darkness. It’s fallen out of practice with modern conveniences like electricity, but the name stuck.”

“Well,” said Scully, “aren’t you a wellspring of random and arcane facts.”

Mulder held up his beer.

“You have no idea,” he said, and she laughed.

She peeled off a piece of pepperoni from one of her slices of pizza, and popped it into her mouth.

“Be right back,” she said, and came back a moment later with a large white pillar candle and a box of matches. She struck a match and lit the candle, then held out her beer. He clinked the neck of his to the neck of hers.

“To warding off evil spirits,” she said.

“And casting out darkness,” he replied.

They smiled at each other, the silence turning easy.

XxXxXxXxXxX

A few days had passed. Enough for them each to get to know the other’s routines and for the excessive politeness of two strangers sharing a space to fade a bit.

Scully was sitting on the couch going over classwork when Mulder emerged from his room in running shorts and a ratty tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. The skin on his upper arms was paler than that of his lower arms, but had a delineated curve where deltoid met bicep. It took a minute to look away.

“Going for a run?” she asked a little too brightly.

“I was hoping to,” he said, sitting down in front of the front door to put on his running shoes. “Are there any good places around here?”

She set down the paper she was holding, thinking.

“There’s a park a few blocks away, over by the… you know what, it’ll be easier if I show you. Mind some company?”

“I’d love some,” he said, smiling.

“Be right back,” she said, and ran upstairs to change.

When she got back to the living room, he was stretching, one leg held up in a quad stretch, standing with the graceful ease of perfect balance.

“Ready?” she asked, pulling an old baseball cap over her messy ponytail.

He lowered his leg to the floor and swept his eyes over her once.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said.

They walked the first few blocks, with Scully taking the opportunity to point out various neighborhood hot spots -- the local gas station, the corner market.

When they got to the park nearby, she ducked under a low hanging tree to find the running path that ran near the outskirts.

“This way,” she said, and they started to jog.

After a few minutes, she threw him a look.

“I’m slowing you down,” she said, guiltily.

He was taking short strides next to her, keeping pace with her.

“Nonsense,” he said, staring straight ahead.

“Muder, your legs are about a foot longer than mine, you could run circles around me,” she said.

“Sounds like a good idea,” he said with a glimmer in his eye, and then pulled the hat off her head and started running in literal circles around her, hooting at her while she grabbed at the hat -- every time she got close, he’d pull it away, holding it behind his back or far above his head where she could never reach it. After a minute of keep away, they were both laughing and she pulled up, out of breath but with a smile on her face.

“I knew I was slowing you down,” she laughed, and bent to put her hands on her knees.

“Aw,” he said, putting the cap back on her head and pulling it low, “you’d have caught up eventually.”

He gave one last tug on the brim of the cap and they stood looking at each other, a moment passing between them. Scully felt something low in her belly, and there was a sharp look in Mulder’s eye.

“Why don’t you go ahead and get your miles in,” Scully said, taking a step back and breaking the moment. “You know how to get back?”

Mulder nodded at her.

“Sure you don’t want to come along?” he asked.

“Pass,” she said, “I’ll see you at home.”

He took a few steps backward, holding her eye and then turned and loped off back down the path, eating up the distance in long, even strides.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The days turned into a week and then two. Their schedules were pretty compatible, and they usually woke up and ate breakfast at about the same time, and then Scully would leave to head onto campus.

She came back on a Thursday afternoon, holding a folder full of medical school applications, her gut churning in nervous anticipation. Her MCAT scores were good. Hopefully good enough to secure at least one full ride scholarship. She closed the door to the apartment with her head in the clouds, and it took her a moment to notice Mulder, who was standing in the middle of the living room, holding the telephone. He was just lowering it from his ear and he had a queer look on his face.

“Mulder?” Scully said, “Everything okay?”

“I just accepted a job,” he said, looking a little surprised.

“What? That’s fantastic!” Scully said, swinging her backpack down to the floor and plopping the folder of applications on top of it.

“Yeah,” he said, and then moved to the wall to hang up the phone.

“You seem surprised,” Scully said, walking toward him.

“I am,” he said, turning toward her from the wall. “It’s the one I was hoping for. I did not expect to get it.”

“What’s the position?” Scully asked, moving to stand in front of him.

“I’ll be starting at one of the best Psychology practices in the Metro area. Low on the totem pole, but they’ve offered to train me until I get licensed.”

The surprise on his face melted slowly into happiness as the news started to sink in.

On a whim, Scully wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He returned it, warmly.

“Congratulations,” she said into his shirt, then looked up into his face. “This calls for a celebration.”

“Yeah?” he said, looking down at her with a smile. She felt color spreading up her cheeks. After a second they let their hands fall away from each other. “What’d you have in mind?” he asked, taking a step back.

“Drinks,” she said, taking a step back, herself. “There’s a great dive bar right down the street.”

“When can we leave?” he asked.

XxXxXxXxXxX

They were at least four drinks in, not counting the two tequila shots she’d insisted on when they first arrived. They’d both agreed their third drink should be water, and Scully had lost count after that. She had ordered a glass of the house Chardonnay (“It’s terrible, but also four dollars,”), and Mulder appeared to be pacing himself through a large gin and tonic, while Scully told a story.

“And then we said ‘follow that car!’” Scully said.

“You didn’t,” Mulder said.

“We did,” said Scully on a laugh, “but to our surprise the cabbie didn’t share in our excitement and instead slammed on the breaks half a block down the street and told us to get out.”

Mulder threw his head back and laughed.

They had started at the bar, but moved to a dark booth in the back when the place started filling up with the after-work crowd. Rush was playing too loud on the jukebox nearby. The drinks were cheap, the tables were sticky and the lighting was bad.

“I love this place,” Mulder said, looking around.

“Me too,” said Scully, watching the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed his drink. “It’s the perfect dive bar.”

Mulder leaned back in the booth and leveled a look at her.

“Tell me about Dana Scully,” he said.

“There’s not much to tell,” she said, humbly.

“Nonsense,” he said, “a smart, beautiful woman like you? I bet you’ve got a lot going on.”

She ducked her head at the compliment. She’d noticed that he peered rather than looked. There was a ribald quality to his gaze, though she found herself more intrigued than intimidated. Mulder looked at her as if she were a question to be answered and she found herself hoping to be worthy of his inquiry.

“Boyfriend?” he prodded, taking a big drink. She rolled her eyes just thinking about Ethan. “Ha!” he went on, “there’s a story there. Tell it.”

He crunched ice from his glass, the dull sound brushing across her skin like a memory. He held the dewy tumbler in long, elegant fingers and for a moment she felt like a real, live grown-up.

She told him about Ethan. She probably shared more than she should have. How they’d started dating in high school when her father retired from the Navy and they moved to Maryland. She told him about her dreams of becoming a doctor and how she’d broken up with Ethan over it. When she finished, he held up his glass.

“Fuck that guy,” Mulder said, and clinked her glass with his.

“I did,” Scully said, and Mulder choked on his drink, laughing. While he recovered, Scully handed him a napkin and leaned back. “I tell you,” she went on, “I’m thrilled to be single right now.”

Mulder cut his eyes to her.

“Tell me about Fox Mulder,” she said, diverting the conversation, “smart, handsome guy like you? I bet you’ve got a lot going on.”

He smirked at her as he brushed the front of his shirt with the napkin.

“You said no girlfriend, right?” she asked, feeling brave.

“I’m thrilled to be single right now,” he said, giving her a look she couldn’t read. The silence stretched for a moment.

“Missy said you moved back for your sister?”

“That, and it was time to come back,” he said, sighing. He started shredding bits of the napkin onto the tabletop. “Sam is doing well in school, but that’s about it. She’s at the age where you leave home and strike out on your own but always have that parental support, that thing to fall back on, that place to go home to. Mom and Dad died just after she left for college, and… I think she feels like she was just expelled into the world before she was ready. She’s sad and angry, and I don’t quite know what to do for her. PhD in Psychology and here I am flapping in the breeze, not even able to help my own sister.”

Scully reached across the table and squeezed his arm.

He smiled self-consciously and stood. He looked brooding and slapdash in the half-light of the bar, stippled with 5 o’clock shadow and flecked with chips of light from a distant, dusty disco ball. She found herself wanting to run her hands through his sable hair and brush her lips over his cheek. She threw back the rest of her wine instead.

“We need another round,” he said.

“We really don’t,” Scully said, reaching up and feeling the end of her nose. When she had too much to drink, it went numb. She couldn’t feel it.

“Are we out celebrating me or not?” he said.

“We are.”

“Then I say we need another round,” and with that he walked to the bar, though when he came back, he was carrying two waters.

“Bartender insisted,” he said.

“He’s a good guy,” Scully said, waving in the direction of the bar. A nod from the bartender.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, drinking water and watching the bar fill up. Then Spirit of the Radio came on the jukebox and Mulder leaned back his head as if in ecstasy.

“I love this song,” he said.

“I had you pegged as an INXS guy,” Scully said.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” he replied. He looked at her steadily. “Let’s dance.”

Scully looked skeptically towards what passed for a dance floor.

“Mulder, no one has danced here in at least a decade,” she said, thinking of a fifty-something barfly swaying by herself to Jolene.

“All the more reason,” he said, sliding out of the booth and holding out his hand. There was a rakish glint in his eye and his renegade jaw clenched once.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” she said, though she put her hand in his and let him pull her up.

“Yes, you are,” he laughed and led her to the middle of the floor.

She was definitely drunk enough because it took nothing at all for her to start dancing. The bartender, who knew her from more than a few nights out with Ellen, smiled at her and bent down under the bar. A second or two later the volume of the music went up and he stood, giving her a thumbs up. She laughed and let herself go.

When the guitar solo started in the middle of the song, Mulder leaned back and started playing an air guitar, throwing his head into it with enthusiasm.

“You’re such a dork!” Scully yelled to him over the music.

“You love it!” he yelled back.

She had to admit, she kind of did. She liked that he seemed to live his life not caring what other people thought of him. It was a lesson she should probably learn herself.

When the song ended and Tom Sawyer came on, she took a step back, and looked up at him. She was sweaty and suddenly self-conscious, feeling like a goldfish in a bowl.

“We should go home,” she said, feeling a lot drunker than she thought she’d been, “get some food.”

He stood up straight, as if gauging how he felt and swayed just a bit.

“You’re right,” he said, “we should.”

They strolled to the bar to settle their tab, and he wouldn’t hear of letting her pay.

They walked out of the bar and were surprised to find that night had fallen. The sudden silence settled over them like a heavy blanket. The air was so fresh it almost hurt to breathe it.

“You should have let me pay,” Scully said, speaking too loudly, her ears ringing with a brief tinnitus from the music. She lowered her voice, “we’re celebrating your accomplishment.”

“Well, my accomplishment is going to pay a lot better than your post-grad stipend, I guarantee you.”

“Still…” she said, and then tripped over the curb.

Mulder reached out and grabbed her arm, saving her from a face plant.

“All hands on deck!” he said, and she smiled and looked up at him gratefully. He slid his hand down her arm and took her hand. “Two blocks to go,” he said, “we got this.”

His hand was warm in hers, dry. She squeezed it. Inhibitions lowered, she could feel herself falling for him a little, against her will.

When they got to their building, there was a young woman sitting on the steps out front with her arms crossed, looking like she was on the verge of tears. When the woman heard them, she turned to look and her face registered surprise and, when her gaze dropped to their linked hands, unhappy confusion.

Scully suddenly wondered if Mulder actually did have a girlfriend and she felt her stomach reel.

“Sam!” Mulder said, dropping her hand. He lurched forward and grabbed the woman in a bear hug.

“Get off, Fox,” she said, pushing him back, “you smell like a frat party.”

Mulder’s face fell.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What’s wrong?” the woman’s voice went up an entire octave, “you told me to come here at 7:30. I’ve been sitting out here for an hour and a half!”

“Shit,” Mulder swore. “I’m so sorry.” His apology did nothing to improve her demeanor.

Mulder then seemed to remember Scully’s presence.

“Oh,” he said, “Sam, this is my new roommate Dana Scully. Scully, this is Samantha, my sister.”

“Scully?” Samantha said, and made no move to shake hands. “You’re still doing that last name thing?” Her eye roll was implied.

“Let’s go inside,” Scully said, for something to do, and pulled out her keys to unlock the building’s door. When she got the key close to the lock, she dropped the whole ring. She could hear Samantha sighing in annoyance behind her.

“So, you went out partying instead of meeting me,” Samantha said, her voice flat. “Awesome.”

Scully recovered, got the door open and they all trooped up the stairs to the apartment in silence.

Once inside, Scully knelt to pick up the backpack and envelope of applications she’d dropped by the door earlier and made her way to the stairs.

“I’ll let you two catch up,” she said, excusing herself.

Mulder threw her an apologetic look. She flopped on the bed when she got to her room, applications forgotten until tomorrow.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The next morning, Mulder met Scully in the kitchen and wordlessly handed over two Tylenol and a glass of water. She threw back the dusty pills, and assessed him over the rim of the glass.

“Thank you,” she said, and he nodded. “Did your sister forgive you?”

“I’ve been granted a temporary reprieve,” he said, and Scully walked around him to pour herself a bowl of cereal. “She’s interning with the local police department this summer, she asked me to come down to the station in a few days so she can show me around. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be scared straight or if she’s letting me off the hook, but either way I promised to be on my best behavior.”

“What kind of internship?” Scully asked, spoon halfway to her mouth.

“I’m not exactly sure. Some kind of Women in Law Enforcement thing. She’ll mostly be getting coffee for dispatch, I think, but occasionally she’ll get to shadow a female detective, so she’s pretty stoked.”

“Sounds cool,” Scully said. Then, “...I don’t think she likes me.”

“She was just upset last night. Totally my fault. She’ll come around.”

Mulder plopped down next to her and poured a bowl of cereal for himself.

“What’s on the docket for today?” he asked her. He poured milk into his bowl slowly until it submerged the flakes like a rising tide.

“Med school applications,” she said, her mouth half full.

“And who are the lucky schools?” he asked.

“Stanford, UCLA, Michigan State and Columbia,” she said, “they’re amongst the few still accepting applications for this fall.”

“Not Georgetown?” he said, casually.

“Georgetown, too,” she said, “I love it here. I would love to stay. I do plan to apply, but…”

“But?”

“But when I inquired, they said their spots were filled and that they rarely make exceptions.”

“Too bad,” he said.

“Too bad,” she agreed.

They ate the rest of the meal in silence.

XxXxXxXxXxX

It had taken days to fill them out, but Scully had left the post office after mailing her applications and felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She was finally going after what she herself wanted and felt jubilant at the prospect. For too long she’d let other people’s expectations for her guide her life. She walked down the sidewalk feeling lighter than air.

The dull roar of an engine on the street pulled her attention and she turned to see Mulder sitting on his motorcycle next to her, pulling off his helmet.

“I thought that was you,” he said with a smile, which she returned. “You get all your applications out?”

She nodded, grinning.

“You make it out of the local police station without having to post bail?” she asked with a smirk.

“Just barely,” he said, then reached back and unsecured a second helmet, holding it up to her. “Want to go for a ride?” he asked.

She looked at the bike skeptically. Motorcycles had always freaked her out a bit.

“Come on, Scully, it’s a Saturday, live a little.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Why not?” she said.

“Atta girl,” he said, grinning. He helped her fit the helmet over her head, securing it under her chin. He lifted her visor before putting his own helmet on, and said “Hold on tight, okay?”

He mounted the bike and she climbed up after him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. The leather jacket he wore was warm from being in the sun.

He kick-started the bike and it roared to life beneath her. She felt a thrill as he pulled away from the curb and picked up speed, the wind teasing the hairs on her bare arms. She wondered if Mulder could feel her heartbeat as it pounded against her chest and into his back.

They crossed the river and he merged onto the parkway, the bike surging forward like a tracer round. She rested her helmeted head onto his back and watched the city give way to forest, neither knowing nor caring about their destination. After about ten minutes, he pulled off into a the small parking lot of a scenic overlook, the brown water of the Potomac rushing past them at the base of the hill they were perched on. He cut the engine and she slid off the side of the bike, reaching up to take her helmet off.

Mulder followed, his gaze piercing as she shook out her hair. She set the helmet on the seat, and he did the same. She turned to look around.

“This is pretty,” she said, “I’ve never been out here.”

“Me neither,” he laughed, and shook the jacket off his shoulders.

The June day was approaching full heat and the breeze that came up off the river was muggy and rich. They walked a little way past the lot and into the shade of several large maple trees. There was a neat rock retaining wall that ran the length of the lookout, and they each hopped over and sat down on it. Far below them the river purled off toward the Chesapeake, dotted occasionally with a kayak or sailboat. The air held the decadent smell of petrichor from rain the day before.

She looked over at Mulder, at his strong profile, the chiseled set of his jaw. He turned to her and caught her looking. Smiled.

The heather grey tee shirt he wore looked overwashed and soft. She had to stop herself from reaching out and rubbing it between her fingers.

“How’s Samantha doing today?” she asked.

“Better,” he said, relieved. “She’s thrilled with this internship. It sounds like she’s really taken to it.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Scully said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes

“Hey, when do you start your new job?” she asked.

“Monday,” he said, his eyes wide. “They already have patients on the schedule.”

She put her hand on his shoulder.

“You’re about to be a real live grown-up, Mulder,” she said, “you ready?”

“Do I look ready?” he asked, pushing his shoulders back. If he’d been wearing a tie, he would have straightened it.

She turned to face him. Took the opportunity to look her fill.

“Mm… yes,” she finally said.

“There was a hesitation there, Scully,” he said playfully.

“There was no hesitation,” she played back.

“There was a decidedly skeptical hesitation.”

She pursed her lips.

“Listen, far be it from me to undermine your confidence…” she started.

“But?” he led.

“But don’t most grown men own furniture?” she teased, bumping her shoulder into his companionably.

He tilted his head back, busted.

“If that’s how you feel about it, how about you come shopping with me tomorrow?” he said.

“For furniture?” she laughed.

“That doesn’t sound like a good time?” he deadpanned.

“Let’s just go now,” she laughed again, “we’ll stack it on the handlebars and taunt the traffic cops.”

“You joke, but I’m serious. Come furniture shopping with me tomorrow.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I guess it depends,” she finally said, “will we need Frohike’s truck?”

He laughed.

“How about if I borrow the truck, but not the Frohike?”

“Deal,” she said, “And all joking aside, is there any reason in particular we can’t go this evening? I mean, I’m free, and I’d hate for a newly minted grown-up like you to develop back problems from another night on the floor.”

She bumped into him again, enjoying their repartee. His face got an odd look to it.

“Actually, I have plans tonight,” he said.

“Oh?” she said, “hot date?”

“I don’t know about hot,” he said, “but I do have a date.”

She felt her stomach drop, then remembered telling him I’m thrilled to be single right now. She felt a small moment of grief.

“Oh, do tell,” she said, sounding entirely too cheerful.

“The uh, detective that Sam is shadowing, asked me out today. I felt kind of cornered, couldn’t say no.”

Mild relief.

“Aggressive, huh?” she said.

“Something like that,” he answered. “Anyway, are we on for tomorrow? I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse,” she said.

The warm breeze sloughed through the trees and settled between them.

XxXxXxXxXxX

True to his word, after breakfast, Mulder went out and rolled back an hour later with Frohike’s truck, but not Frohike.

“He wanted me to pass along his love,” Mulder said when Scully hopped into the cab.

“Is that all?” she asked, pulling the seatbelt across her lap.

“Definitely not,” Mulder said, “but I value my life.”

The truck was a late ’70s Chevy Silverado in metallic brown. It had a manual transmission and only got AM radio. A corner of the floor was rusted out and she could see the road flying beneath them.

“What’s our first stop?” she asked, fiddling with the radio to try to get a signal.

“I’m thinking bed,” he said, “in deference to my old man body.”

She smiled and the truck rumbled on, the transmission tacky. He had to kick the clutch at every stop light.

“Know where you’re going?”

He tapped the side of his head.

“Got it all mapped out.”

The only radio station that would come in was transmitting a baseball game, so they listened to it in silence for a few minutes. Finally her curiosity got the better of her.

“So,” she said, “how was the date?”

“Not bad, actually,” he replied, stealing a look at her as if to gauge her reaction.

She made sure to keep her expression neutral, pressed the vee of her toes hard into her flip-flops.

“Oh?”

“She’s intense, but funny,” he said. “Not sure if I see it going anywhere, but she asked if I wanted to go out again.”

She could feel his eyes on her and kept staring straight ahead.

“You should go,” she said. Stop talking, Dana.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” No.

“Oh, we’re coming up on the mattress store,” he said, “see if you can see a parking lot.”

They walked into the mattress store, eyes practically bugging out of their heads. It looked like close to an acre of nothing but bare white mattresses as far as the eye could see. There were SALE! Posters hanging above almost every section and cardboard cutouts of showcase models leaning against every third mattress.

Mulder took a step back.

“I’ll keep sleeping on the floor,” he said, “nothing is worth this.”

Scully grabbed his arm.

“Mulder,” she said, “you need, what? A bed, dresser and desk?”

He nodded.

“Then we’re practically a third of the way there. Come on.”

She pulled him along like a recalcitrant toddler.

It took about 10.2 seconds before they were met with a smiling salesman. By that point, Mulder seemed to have recovered.

The man was short, balding and entirely too chipper for his own good.

“You and the missus looking for a new mattress?” the man asked, “You know mattresses expire after eight years.”

She opened her mouth to correct him, but Mulder grabbed her arm.

“Yes,” he said, “the missus and I are looking for a new mattress. You have any newlywed discounts?”

The salesman waggled his eyebrows.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He marched off ahead of them and Scully hissed “what are you doing?”

“Trying to save a little money,” he whispered back, “go with it.”

The salesman stopped in front of a row.

“Now, this here line is your best bet for what we like to call active sleepers,” at that he gave an exaggerated wink, “you folks looking for soft or firm?”

“Oh, my wife likes it firm,” Mulder said. Scully rolled her eyes.

The salesman moved to the end of the row.

“These are going to be the firmest on this end, getting softer as you move to the left. Why don’t you two lay down on a few and see if any of these speak to you.”

A new customer walked into the store then, and the salesman excused himself and ambled over to greet them.

“I’m not going to speak to you if you keep that up, Mulder,” she said.

“Keep what up?”

“My wife likes it firm,” she repeated in a low voice.

“What?” he said, all innocence,

“I’m leaving,” she said and he grabbed her wrist as she turned.

“Wait,” he said, laughing, “I’m sorry. He’s just lobbing these softballs out there, and I gotta take a swing. I’ll stop.”

She gave him a look.

“I will,” he said, putting on a straight face, still holding onto her arm, “just help me pick out a bed and we can get out of here. Scout’s honor.”

She relented and they cautiously sat on a few mattresses before getting comfortable. Eventually they were sprawled out next to each other, debating the merits of quilt-top vs foam.

The salesman finally came back over.

“Y’all have any questions?” he asked.

“Just one,” Mulder said, propping himself up onto his elbows. The salesman looked at him expectantly, “is that newlywed discount still on the table?”

XxXxXxXxXxX

They pulled into the parking space behind the building a few hours later hauling several large boxes containing the unassembled pieces of a matching set of a dresser, desk and nightstand. The bed would be delivered later that afternoon.

They were able to haul them up the two flights of stairs with a minimal amount of arguing which both pleased and surprised Scully.

They dumped them on the floor of the living room before plopping wearily onto the sofa.

“Oh God,” Mulder said, eyeing the mess of cardboard before them, “We have to assemble them.”

“What do you mean ‘we?’”

Mulder looked at her, his lips almost pouting and she laughed.

“Oh come on, it’s not like you have to build them from scratch, they give you directions,” she said, “If you’re lucky, they’re even in English.”

“You’re making this worse.”

“And enjoying myself immensely,” she said, “Do you have any tools?”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Of course, I do,” she said.

“Please grant a moment of silence for the death of my masculinity,” he said, dropping his head.

She swatted his shoulder.

“Stop being patriarchal,” she said, “I’ll help. Let me grab my tools.”

Three hours later they were drinking iced tea on the small loveseat on their balcony while the sun sunk slowly below the horizon, the cotton candy clouds a riot of color above them.

“I’m never moving again,” Mulder said, “tell Ellen she can sleep on the couch when she gets back. Or she can sleep with you. I’m done.”

Scully chuckled and wiggled down lower into the cushions. The temperature had dropped with the sun and she was still wearing a tank top and shorts, her feet bare.

“You cold?” Mulder asked her.

She shrugged.

“A little,” she said.

“Here,” he said, and pulled off the sweatshirt he was wearing, handing it over to her.

“Thanks,” she said, pulling it over her head. It was still warm from his body and smelled like sandalwood and a little like sweat. She wanted to pull it up to her nose and give it a big whiff, but she resisted. When he put his arms back down, he rested one on the back of the loveseat behind her. He wasn’t touching her, but she could maybe tell he wanted to.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” she asked.

“A little,” he said, smiling.

He had a tee shirt on under his sweatshirt, and it was riding up a tiny bit, the skin of his hip showing. He took a sip of tea, and she wondered for a moment what he might taste like.

“You’re going to do great,” she said.

He turned to look at her, serious.

“Thanks, Scully.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said dismissively.

“I mean, for everything.”

The moment felt weighty. She could practically feel the heat from the skin on his arm above her, and knew if she touched it it would be warm and exquisitely soft.

“Tell me another random and arcane fact,” she said, settling further into the loveseat, the collar from his sweatshirt brushing her jaw.

“In New York City,” he said, turning his face to hers, “on Broadway medians between 63rd and 76th streets, biologists discovered a new species of ant.”

She raised her eyebrows at that.

“They call it the ManhattAnt,” he smiled.

“Naturally,” she smiled back.

If she let herself, she could fall in love with him; absolutely, irreversibly. It’d be as easy as taking a breath.

He drained the rest of his tea and stood. She sat up.

“You want your sweatshirt back?” she said, her hand on the hem.

He waved her back down.

“Keep it,” he said, “I know where you live.” He then jerked a thumb in the direction of his bedroom. “Gonna try out that new bed,” he said, and opened his mouth like he was about to say something else. He shook the ice left over in the glass and looked down at it. “I… I had a good day today, Scully. Thank you.”

She gave him a close lipped smile.

“Night,” he said, drifting slowly off toward his bedroom.

“Night,” she said back.

She waited until his bedroom door closed before going inside. She slept in his sweatshirt.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder had been on four more dates with Detective What’s-Her-Name (she didn’t ask) in the last five weeks (not that she was counting). He was always home by 11:00 pm, alone (not that she was paying close attention).

She’d usually be sitting on the couch studying when he walked in the door.

“How was your date?” she’d ask.

“Good,” he’d say, and wouldn’t elaborate.

Twice he sat on the couch with her after he took off his shoes, and they’d talked until they were both yawning and wondering aloud where the time went. Once, he just went to bed. Once she’d been asleep and woke up hours later to find an Aztec print blanket draped over her on the couch.

Tonight was date number five. Earlier in the day she’d gotten her second response from med schools (Michigan State had accepted her, but had been unable to offer any financial support) -- this one from Columbia, which regretted to inform her that they had already filled up all their remaining spots, but asked her to please apply again next year. That disheartening rejection on her mind, she had a nervous, anxious feeling in her gut about Mulder’s date, and was planning to go to bed early--if he came home and he wasn’t alone--or didn’t come home at all--she didn’t want to know.

At 9:03 pm, she was getting a glass of water from the kitchen in just a thin worn-out tee shirt and an old pair of running shorts from high school when she heard the key in the lock.

Mulder slid in through the door and closed it behind him. He was alone.

“Hey,” she said, surprised. “How… was your date?”

“Meh,” he said, bending over to get at his shoes. “She got a call about a case halfway through dinner and had to leave. To be honest, I was relieved.”

A lightness bubbled up from inside her, and she had trouble containing a smile.

“Oh yeah?” she said lightly.

He moved to plop heavily onto the couch, giving his lone remaining shoe a perplexed look.

“Damn lace is knotted,” he mumbled, “I can’t get it.”

She sat on the couch next to him.

“You probably need a decent fingernail,” she said, flicking hers together with the satisfying click of keratin. “Gimme your foot.”

He turned and swung his foot into her lap. She started picking at the knot, which he’d managed to pull even tighter with his efforts.

“Relieved, you said?” she tried not to sound too interested. She kept her eyes on his laces.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “She’s nice enough--pretty--but I think it’s run its course.”

“Aw,” she said, and patted his leg, “your somebody is out there, Mulder. I just know it.”

“Yeah,” he said, softly, “I’m sure of it.”

She had just gotten her thumbnail into the knot and started to get it loose when there was a knock on the door. They looked at each other, expectantly. Neither were expecting anyone.

She set his foot on the floor.

“I think I loosened it enough,” she said, “you get it from here, I’ll get the door.”

“Success!” he said, when she was a few feet from the door. He pulled off the shoe triumphantly just as she threw back the lock. She turned to smile at him, and pulled the door wide, turning toward it with a big grin still on her face.

Her face fell as soon as she registered who was standing in front of her.

“Ethan,” she said, “what are you doing here?”

“Dana,” he said, and held out a small posy of flowers toward her. She didn’t reach out to take them. “I came to apologize.”

She stood there, debating.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

She looked at him, sighed. “I don’t need an apology, and it’s late, and… Ethan, I don’t want to do this.”

He brushed past her and came in anyway. When she turned toward him, Mulder stood from the couch, his eyes narrowed. Ethan stopped in his tracks.

“What is this?” Ethan asked.

Scully sighed, annoyed.

“You tell me, Ethan. What is this?” she asked, pointing to the flowers, “What do you want?”

“I was coming to…” he looked back and forth between her and Mulder. He looked her up and down and she suddenly felt vulnerable and small. She wasn’t even wearing a bra. She crossed her arms in front of her.

“This wasn’t about school, was it,” Ethan said, his tone turning quarrelsome. “You were cheating on me.”

“Ethan, Jesus Christ,” she said, taking a step toward him.

“Fucking ‘med school,’” he said, his face melting into a sneer, “right. It was a fucking excuse. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me-” at that, she went from annoyed to irate.

“Are you kidding?” she said, “I wrote half your papers in undergrad-”

“You barely proofread them,” he interrupted snidely, and turned to Mulder. “What’s she got you doing for her?”

“Hey, man,” Mulder said, taking a step forward, “Don’t.

“Oh,” Ethan said, slapping the posy of flowers against the side of his leg. A few petals fell to the floor, “maybe I should ask you what she’s got you doing to her.”

Mulder took another step forward.

“Scully,” he said, connecting eyes with her.

“Ethan, you need to leave,” she said.

He ignored her.

“Scully?” Ethan said, then reached out a hand and grabbed her arm. “What the fuck? You fucking slut-”

Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, Mulder’s fist came flying over Scully’s shoulder and connected solidly with Ethan’s nose. The force of the punch sent him spinning a few paces away from Scully almost into the open doorway, and when he turned and straightened blood was running down his face.

“Whad da fuck?” he said, his words garbled and nasally. He brought a hand to his face and looked to Mulder. “Good luck wid her. Frigid bitch.”

Scully was so furious she was shaking.

“First I’m a slut, now I’m frigid? Make up your fucking mind, Ethan. And get. Out.”

With that she gave him a shove and slammed the door in his face.

She leaned against it and took one bracing breath. Then she looked to Mulder, who was holding his right hand awkwardly.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Are you?” he volleyed back, concerned.

She shook her hands out, trying to release some nervous energy. Anger and horror and embarrassment all fought to get out, coming together in a clod in her throat that choked her. Tears sprung out instead.

“I mean your hand,” she finally said, moving to his side. She wiped the tears away hastily, gingerly lifting up his hand. He winced, sucked in a breath.The skin over two knuckles was split, blood dripping lazily down three fingers. It was starting to swell.

“I think I hit a couple teeth,” he said.

“I hope you knocked them out,” she said. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” she went on gently, glad she had something to do, and pulled him lightly toward her bathroom up the stairs.

He stood at the threshold while she rummaged around for her first aid kit and looked around.

“I’ve never been in here,” he said quietly. “You have a nicer shower than me.”

She finally felt her mouth tug up into a small smile. She gingerly grabbed his injured hand and pulled him to the sink.

He let her wash and rinse his hand without words. She could feel his eyes on her, he never looked away. Finally, she sat on the edge of her tub with the first aid kit, and pulled him down next to her. She rested his hand gently in her lap as she worked butterfly bandages over his knuckles. She then wrapped it gently with gauze, securing it with a quick tuck.

“You’re going to make a great doctor,” he said earnestly, and she tucked her chin to her chest.

“This needs ice,” she said, finally raising her eyes to his. Tending to him had given her mind something to do, and now looking at him made her feel vulnerable all over again—he’d heard every accusation made in her fight with Ethan—the words were coming back to her. She looked back down, willing back the tears that threatened to spill.

Finally, she felt the fingers of Mulder's other hand lightly on her chin and she looked up. The second their eyes connected, her tears started to fall.

“You’re not frigid, Dana,” he said, his voice rumbling and soft, “you might be the warmest-hearted person I’ve ever met.”

His eyes were mossy in the bright light of her bathroom, and she felt herself tipping forward until her forehead was resting against his.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

They were still for a moment, breathing each other in. She felt a pull to him like the tide chasing the moon.

His fingers were still resting tenderly under her chin, and all it took was the slightest, smallest pressure from them and they crashed into each other, their lips tangling in a sudden, passionate kiss.

They were still sitting side by side on the edge of her bathtub, and Mulder brought his arm around her and pulled her up until they were standing, bodies pressed together in a line, their mouths all tongue and teeth.

She reached up and weaved her fingers into his hair, pulling him down to her like he was a source of water and she’d been thirsty for days.

She felt him harden against her belly, and she reached down and grabbed him over his jeans, rubbing. He moaned into her mouth and thrust against her once, twice. His injured hand was wrapped around her backside, pulling her closer, while his good hand crept up under her tee shirt and cupped roughly over her bare breast, squeezing her nipple between his thumb and the vee of his hand.

He dragged his mouth away from hers and started biting and licking at her neck.

“I want you, Scully,” he said into her skin, “God, I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.”

She was so het up in a fervor of desire and sheer wanting that she could barely form words.

“Ye-” she said, struggling to get the whole word out, “yesss.”

He leaned back for a moment and used his good hand to grab his shirt behind his head and whipped it up and off. She took the opportunity to do the same, and when they came back together, the heat from his bare chest on her nipples sent a frisson of energy down the length of her spine. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh.

“You’re cold,” he said into her mouth, and she was too interested in kissing him to answer.

Their tongues tangled together and he reached down and started pushing off his jeans and boxers, kicking them away without breaking contact with her. She was short enough that when she reached down to do the same, she had to bend down away from him, and when she stood back up, he was standing in her open shower door, turning the water on.

He turned back toward her, his cock pointing at her like a divining rod.

“I’m going to warm you up,” he said, looking at her like a cat stalking prey.

She rove her eyes over him once before he got to her, and her mouth went dry at the sight of him. He was all lean muscle and smooth skin; he looked like he’d been cut from marble.

He got to her and pulled her tightly to him, his skin like fever along the length of her. He pulled her with him slowly backwards, and when they got to the shower, it was steaming. He maneuvered her inside the stall and positioned her under the hot spray; she felt her nipples pucker in the air.

He leaned down and licked water off her shoulder and then lowered himself slowly to the floor, pausing at her breasts to suck one nipple into his mouth, and then the other, water sluicing down his face like rain. When his knees finally reached the floor, he ran his hand gently down her thigh until his hand was around the back of her knee, which he lifted slowly, his eyes going to hers for permission.

She could only look back and lick her lips as he pulled her leg up and over his shoulder. His mouth was an inch from the throbbing, aching skin at her center, water running down over her breasts and into his hair.

Ethan had gone down on her only a few times in all their years together, regarding the act distastefully as something of a chore. But here was Mulder, kneeling before her, who looked at her reverently, as though he were about to unwrap a gift.

Scully reached behind herself to brace a hand against the shower wall, feeling dizzy. When his tongue darted out to part the folds of her labia, she gasped. Her other hand went to his head, threading her fingers through his dark coiffure, which was as thick and smooth as a martin’s.

He reached his hands up and under her, pulling her by the ass tightly to his face, a long train of gauze unraveling from his injured hand and hanging limply in the wet spray.

In high school, Melissa had loaned her a romance novel where a pirate referred to his conquest’s genitals as a “cunny,” and that word was all she could think of as Mulder lapped at her, making her feel as flushed and ripe as a rum wench.

Mulder licked and licked, making small, satisfied noises, the shower pushing needles of heat into her hair and back. Cunny, she thought.

He removed his hands from her ass only long enough to yank the rest of the gauze off his hand, and before she could utter a protest, he had stuck one long finger slowly up inside of her and began rubbing at her G spot in time with his tongue. She let out an involuntary moan, and could feel Mulder’s answering smile on her tender flesh.

“Let go,” he said gently into her, and then proceeded to suck her clit against his tongue. She came so suddenly and unexpectedly that she felt her knees go limp under her, and Mulder grabbed her and held her steady while she rode out the waves of pleasure, his name a prayer on her lips.

When she came back to herself, he was standing, one arm wrapped around her middle and the other in the wet tangle of her hair, looking at her with satisfied affection.

She reached down and grabbed him boldly, his cock hot and thick in her hand. His eyes fluttered closed and he rocked into her.

“Bed,” she said, and reached around him to shut off the water. That seemed to rouse him and he reached down and grabbed her under the ass, lifting her easily up so she could wrap her legs around him. His mouth descended on hers as he walked her out of the shower, the air hitting the water on their skin. She suddenly felt cool everywhere but where their bodies were touching: their mouths, her legs around his waist, his cock bobbing up into the cleft between her legs.

He lowered her gently onto her bed, perched in between her legs, her hair fanned about her head in thick, wet ropes. He leaned back.

“Condoms?” he asked.

“Drawer,” she said, and nodded her chin toward her bedside table. She propped herself up on her elbow and pulled a hair off of her tongue.

He rolled away from her and pulled a condom from the drawer, tearing it open as he settled himself back between her legs. He had started to roll it down over himself when he paused.

“This, uh,” he said, somewhat sheepishly, “might not fit.”

She looked down at him in alarm.

“Do you have any?” she asked him, and he nodded at her, a smile coming back to his face.

“Be right back,” he said, and leaned down to give her a quick kiss before he tumbled out of her bedroom door.

Scully looked around her room and expected to see it changed. Everything looked exactly the way it had, she realized, and found that the only thing that had changed was her. Her breathing started to even out and she flitted her eyes to her bedroom door, doubt suddenly creeping into her subconscious. Should she be doing this?

Before she could plumb the depths of that feeling too closely, Mulder filled the doorway suddenly, an adonis in all his naked glory, and he smiled at her triumphantly. She smiled tremulously back and had a thought to say something when he grabbed her foot in his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. His touch calmed her nerves and she felt suddenly re-centered.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows while he rolled the new condom down and then he was back on the bed, crawling up her body like a panther, and his mouth found hers once again.

As soon as his body pressed itself toward hers, she lifted a leg and wrapped it around his waist, her psyche entirely back in the moment.

“You ready?” he asked her, his honey-over-sandpaper voice rolling over her skin like a cat’s tongue.

She nodded and he reached down and guided himself into her slowly. As wet as she was, she still felt tight, too tight, and when she winced, he stilled instantly.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked in concern.

“No,” she said quickly, “it’s--just go slow.”

She willed her muscles to relax, one set at a time, starting at her toes and working her way up her body and after a moment she felt him slide in more and they both hissed with pleasure.

The more he moved, the better it felt, and after a while she wondered how she’d ever managed to live without this. Without him.

She bit her lip and suppressed a moan, and his pace increased, just a fraction, the look on his face one of either pleasure or pain. He hooked his thumb into her mouth and she sucked it, licked it clean. It tasted of salt, a little bit like her, the dry tang of latex. He pulled it out of her mouth and reached it between them, sweeping it urgently over her clit.

“Come with me,” he whispered into her ear, then pulled back to look into her eyes.

She concentrated on the sensations, trying not to lose herself in his gaze, and soon enough she felt another orgasm coming on, bit her lip and nodded at him. He surged up into her hard and they were both gone, eyes clamped closed, blood roaring in their ears.

He slumped down next to her, shifting his weight to his side, his penis still inside of her.

“Jesus,” he said, his tone reverential, “Jesus.”

She remained silent, feeling the bed under her, her duvet cover damp from shower water. She felt tears prick her eyes, overcome with emotion and release. She was afraid of what had happened, of what would happen, of the feelings he evoked inside of her.

He kissed her temple and then stood to dispose of the condom in the bathroom, coming back to the bed with water in her cup from the sink. He handed it to her.

“Here,” he said, and she smiled gratefully at him and drank the whole thing.

He reached for the empty cup and set it down on her bedside table, then sat on the edge of the bed.

“So,” he said, smiling at her, half amused, half anxious.

“So,” she said, and had trouble meeting his eyes.

“I think your ex-boyfriend is a bit of a douche,” he said.

At that she laughed and looked at him.

“Yeah,” she said.

He held her gaze a moment.

“You okay?” he asked, “I get that tonight,” he waved his hand around as if encompassing everything, “was a lot.”

“Yeah,” she lied, “how’s your hand?”

He looked down.

“Bleeding again,” he said.

She winced.

“Worth it,” he said.

“Ethan was lying,” she said suddenly, turning her face away, “I’m the one who carried him through school. God, that-”

“-Hey” he stopped her. Put a hand on her knee over the covers. She pulled the sheet up over her breasts, sniffling, feeling exposed. “It’s okay,” he said, “don’t give him another thought. He doesn’t deserve it.”

She took a deep breath, nodded.

“Did the band-aids at least stay on?” she asked him nodding toward his hand.

He looked down and held up his hand.

“Yes,” he said, smugly.

“Let me rewrap it,” she said, and grabbed the nearest thing to the bed to throw on. It was his Oxford sweatshirt. She put it on, realized what it was and looked to him guiltily.

“It looks better on you,” he said, “I meant it when I said ‘keep it.’”

It fell halfway to her knees, so she didn’t bother with anything else and padded softly to the bathroom. She peed quickly, washed her hands and brought fresh gauze to the bed. She found Mulder under the covers, sitting against the headboard, smiling at her shyly.

“This okay?” he said.

She paused a moment and then nodded to him. It only took a minute to rewrap his hand.

“This really needs some ice, Mulder,” she said, getting into the other side of the bed. The second she was settled, he reached for her.

“But that would mean leaving this bed,” he said, “and that is the last-” he paused to kiss her behind her ear, which sent a shiver down her spine, “thing I want to do.”

She turned in his arms so that she was the little spoon, and settled in, feeling his large hands on her stomach and his breath in her hair.

“Good night, Mulder,” she said.

He squeezed her.

“‘Night.”

He was asleep long before she was, her thoughts swirling and echoing in her mind. Eventually, his long, even breaths calmed and centered her, and she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

XxXxXxXxXxX

When she woke the next morning, it was to a soft kiss on her neck. It was the Saturday morning of the long Labor Day weekend, she remembered. She inhaled and rolled over. Mulder was kneeling onto the bed over her, wearing his boxers and holding onto the clothes he’d shed the night before.

“Morning,” he said, smiling. “I gotta go take a shower. Sam’s coming over this morning.”

“Okay,” she said, and he leaned down and kissed her on the lips.

He pulled back and gave her a long, fond look.

“Maybe we can all eat breakfast together,” he said, then shot her a toothy grin, “I’m starving.”

She hadn’t seen Samantha since that first night when they’d initially met, when she and Mulder were tipsy and Samantha was irritated with them and upset. She felt a low throb of embarrassment and anxiety in her gut. She got up to take a shower as well.

When she got downstairs, she was hit with the smell of coffee and toast and found Mulder already banging around in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said, “I just buzzed Samantha up. She said she has a surprise. I hope it’s donuts… You want some eggs?”

She shook her head and went for the pot of coffee, fresh anxiety coursing through her. Mulder came up behind her and put his hands on her hips, kissing her neck, and she shied away sideways like a nervous filly.

“Scully?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

The doorbell rang. He backed away from her, looking confused, and Scully couldn't bring herself to make eye contact. She busied herself by pouring a cup of coffee.

She heard the door open and excited female chatter, then Samantha’s voice said “Surprise!”

“Debbie,” Mulder said, his voice filled with dismay.

Scully moved to the doorway of the kitchen and watched Samantha and another woman come into the apartment. Sam had a small stack of paper in her hand and the other woman was holding a bottle of champagne. The women were laughing and she watched as the older woman leaned in and pressed a kiss to Mulder’s surprised lips.

“Hi!” she said, sweetly, “Sam told me she was coming over here this morning, and I thought I’d tag along and apologize for last night.” She held up the bottle, “Mimosas, anyone?” She looked over at Scully expectantly.

Scully finally got a good look at her and her jaw almost dropped. Mulder had said she was pretty, but the woman was downright stunning. She was at least 5’9”, with long, thin legs that reached up into verdant hips. She had an almost pinched waist, a full, high bust, and a long elegant neck. High cheekbones, lush lips, gorgeous, big, brown eyes and a cascade of wavy brown hair completed her look. It occurred to Scully that she herself was wearing an oversized tee shirt and a ratty pair of sweatpants, her hair hanging wet and limp over her shoulders.

Mulder seemed to snap out of his surprise.

“Ah,” he said, shaking his head, “welcome. Um. Deb, this is my roommate, Dana Scully, Scully, this is Detective Debbie Winther, Sam’s mentor at the police department.”

And your girlfriend, Scully couldn’t help but finish for him in her head.

“Nice to meet you,” she said instead, feeling rooted in place.

“Oh my gosh, you too!” Debbie said enthusiastically, moving over to give Scully a buss on the cheek and a tight hug.

She even smelled like heaven, Scully thought, an expensive perfume like Chanel or Hermés.

“Can I throw this in the fridge?” Debbie went on, holding up the bottle of champagne, and then moved past Scully without waiting for an answer.

Mulder caught Scully’s eye and threw her an apologetic, horrified look. When Scully cut her eyes to Samantha, the young woman was watching them closely, a shrewd look on her face.

“Here,” Samantha said to Mulder, her tone a little frosty, and pushed the stack of papers into his hands, “your mail was falling out of your box. I grabbed it.”

Sam shot a look at Scully and then moved to the couch. Mulder shuffled absently through the stack, moving slowly into the room.

Scully felt like she’d been caught cheating and could feel her cheeks burn red.

“Oh!” Mulder said suddenly, his eyes still on the mail in his hands. “Scully.” He looked at her, held up an envelope. “Stanford,” he said.

He walked over and handed the envelope to Scully, then said in a low voice, “Do you want some privacy to open it?”

She looked at him in thankful relief when Debbie walked back in from the kitchen.

“What’s this?” she said brightly.

“A letter from Stanford, apparently,” Samantha said, her eyes boring into both Scully and her brother.

“Something exciting?” Debbie asked.

“Uh, Scully applied to med school there, she’s been waiting to hear back,” Mulder said.

“Oh my gosh, you have to open it!” Debbie said. Mulder looked pained. “What?” Debbie went on, “bad news, we drink; good news, we toast!”

Scully held the envelope in front of her.

“Yeah,” she said, unable to take her eyes off of it.

She took a breath and tore it open. She held the letter, reading it, the paper in her hands shaking. She suddenly felt weak, and sat down heavily in the chair next to her.

“Scully?” Mulder said softly.

“I got in,” she finally said shakily, “full ride scholarship.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder bent down to get a better look at her face, his eyes shining.

“You did it…” he said.

She felt a tremulous smile rise up her cheeks.

“Amazing!” Debbie said enthusiastically, then ducked back into the kitchen. She emerged a moment later with the bottle of champagne and ripped the foil off, then expertly twisted off the cork. A little bit of bubbly ran out the top of the bottle and foamed down her fingers. “To Doctor Dana Scully!” she said, and then handed Scully the bottle.

Scully took one look at Mulder and then brought the bottle to her lips, knocking back a slug. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and handed him the bottle.

“I’ll get glasses,” he said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Scully looked back down at the letter, and continued reading.

“Congratulations, Dana,” Samantha said flatly, “will you be moving to Stanford soon?”

“Uh,” Scully said, her eyes rising to Mulder’s sister, “yes. In just a couple of weeks, it looks like.”

Samantha nodded at her and then cut her eyes to her brother, who was emerging from the kitchen with three juice glasses.

“I couldn’t find champagne flutes,” he said apologetically.

He poured Scully a glass, and then one for Debbie. He then looked at Samantha. “You’re not 21,” he said.

Samantha rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on,” Debbie said, “we’re celebrating. Anyway, you could legally drink when you were younger than she is now. She should be grandfathered in. Pour her one. It’s not like I’m going to arrest you.”

“You can have mine,” Scully said, and held it out to her.

“No thanks,” Samantha said.

The tension in the room got thick quickly. Debbie was having none of it.

“She’s having mine,” she said, and walked her glass over to Samantha. She then took the glass that Mulder was holding and leaned into him. “We need to toast the accomplishments of your incredible roommate, Fox, I’d hop to and get yourself a glass.”

Scully couldn’t help it, she liked the woman.

When Mulder came back in, he raised his glass and gave Scully a significant look.

“To Dr. Scully,” he said.

“To Dr. Scully,” the others repeated after him.

Scully brought the champagne to her lips. It felt like fire all the way down.

XxXxXxXxXxX

When Mulder closed the door on Samantha and Debbie, he immediately turned to Scully.

“God, I am so sorry. I had no idea she was coming and-”

“It’s fine, Mulder,” she said, though it was not fine. She was not fine.

“I’ll call her later, break it off with her,” Mulder said, moving over to her, and Scully cut him off again.

“Don’t,” she said. Mulder peered at her.

The whole morning would have been incredibly awkward had Debbie Winther not been engaging, enthusiastic, and an altogether fun person to be around. Whenever she stood next to Mulder, Scully couldn’t help but think what a handsome couple they made. Samantha eventually warmed up a little under Debbie’s gentle prodding.

The only really awful moment was when Debbie excitedly told Mulder that she had managed to get a cabin out on the Chesapeake for the long weekend and hoped she could take him out there this afternoon for a romantic getaway for a couple of days.

Mulder politely told her he would probably have to move a few things around and would call her.

“Scully?” Mulder said, breaking into her thoughts.

“She’s really nice, Mulder,” Scully said, “in fact, she’s great.”

Mulder looked at her in confusion.

“Mulder, I’m going to be leaving in a few weeks and-”

“I don’t care,” said, interrupting her, “Scully last night was… I don’t care if you’re leaving, I want to be with you.”

Scully’s heart felt like it was going to beat itself out of her chest.

“It was a mistake,” she whispered. It hurt just thinking it. Saying it made her sick. “Last night was a mistake.”

He stumbled back, as if stung by a jasper.

“What?” he said.

“It was a mistake. I’m leaving for Stanford. How could this even work?”

He saw an opening. Moved back toward her and grabbed her hand.

“We’ll make it work,” he said, “we’ll figure it out. Maybe I move out there.”

“Mulder, your life is here, your job, your sister-” Scully thought of the way Samantha had looked at her that first night. How easy she’d been with Detective Winther this morning. It was almost as if he was reading her thoughts.

“Don’t worry about my sister. She’ll come around. She’s incredibly loyal— she thought I was still dating Debbie, knew something had happened between you and me-”

“How?” she cut in.

“She can read me like a book, Scully. Listen, don’t worry about her, I’ll talk to her-“ he said.

She pulled away from him.

“Your sister aside, medical school is going to be all engrossing, I won’t have time. I -- It’s the first thing I’ve ever done for myself.”

“And I would never get in the way of that, Scully. Med school can come first. Should come first. I’ll take whatever you have left, even if it’s just scraps.”

She didn’t want that for him. He deserved so much more.

“No,” she said.

“But I thought-” he said.

“No,” she whispered and took a step back.

His jaw clenched and rippled under the surface of his skin, like the groundswell before a volcano blew its top.

He put his hand on his chest. “I know you feel this, too,” he said, his voice somewhere between anger and a caress.

She said nothing, but turned and walked up the stairs, tears spilling down her cheeks. She was doing this for him. Wasn’t she?

She looked over the railing and he was still standing there watching her.

‘

“I don’t,” she said, and ran the rest of the way to her room

XxXxXxXxXxX

A few minutes later, she heard the front door slam and then the sound of his motorcycle tearing up the street. Her world felt foggy and unreal. Not knowing what else to do, she picked up the phone.

When Melissa answered her call, Scully could barely talk through her tears.

“Dana?” Melissa said, her voice tinny through the earpiece, “Dana, slow down. What’s going on?”

She told her sister everything. Melissa listened patiently, asked pointed questions.

“Missy, I feel like I made the right choice and the wrong one, all at the same time,” she said when she was done.

“Sometimes there’s no one right answer, Dana. I haven’t learned much in my short time on this earth, but I have learned that.”

Scully sighed into the phone.

“Tell me, then,” Missy said, “What have you made the right choice about?”

“Med school,” Scully answered definitively. “Everything inside myself tells me that’s the right choice.”

“Then what’s the wrong one?”

“Mulder,” she said, with equal determination. “What I just said to him. Driving him away. Everything about it feels wrong, but I can’t consolidate the two. His life is here. And mine is about to be eaten up on the other side of the country.”

“Relationships have survived worse,” Missy said.

“Are you saying I made a mistake?”

“I think you said it, Dana,” her sister said gently. “I think you owe it to yourselves to at least give it a chance.”

“I need to talk to him,” Scully said, almost to herself. “I hope it’s not too late.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

She waited hours for him to come home. She mostly sat on the couch chewing her nails to the quick, imagining every scenario under the sun. Dark clouds moved in just before sunset, and the sky took on an ominous color and mood.

She was standing to switch on a lamp when she heard a soft knocking at their door. She rushed to it, swung it open, hoping it was him.

It was a different Mulder. Samantha stood there, her hand still raised from knocking.

“Dana!” she said in surprise, and then got a good look at what Scully assumed were her red-rimmed eyes and pallorous skin. “Are you okay?”

Scully sniffed and wiped her nose, didn’t answer. Sam stood there a beat and pushed on.

“I came to apologize,” she said, her words in a rush, “I was being a shit, and what you and my brother do with your lives isn’t any of my business. I know you’re leaving town soon, and I wanted to just… clear the air.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Scully said, looking down and away, embarrassed.

“I do. So… I’m sorry.”

Scully gave her a weak smile.

“Do you... know where your brother is?” she asked.

Samantha looked chagrined.

“I haven’t talked to him, but… Debbie said he had called and said he’d go up to the Bay with her this weekend. She left a couple of hours ago, I… I think Fox went with her.”

Scully nodded dumbly. She felt like the floor had opened under her.

“My shift at the station starts in a few minutes,” Sam went on, “I’ve got to get going.” She reached out and squeezed Scully’s arm briefly, then turned away and left.

When Scully closed the door and turned back into the apartment, she felt like the air had gone out of the room. Everywhere she looked, she saw a memory of the two of them. She needed out, she needed air.

She grabbed her running shoes and slid them on, not even tying them very well. She took her keys from the hook and fled out onto the street.

The sky was still lit, but barely, a yellowish ozone tinge to the air. She walked with her head down, not really having a destination in mind. She found herself at the mouth of the local park.

Moths were barnstorming the streetlamps that were scattered throughout it, and there was a steady crowd of people streaming toward the street; a soccer league had just finished for the night.

There were kids sucking on orange wedges, cleats with laces tied together draped over shoulders and around necks. A boy chased his sister, trying to get her to smell his shin guards. Somewhere off in the distance a coach or referee blew one sharp bleat on a whistle.

Scully shouldered her way past them all, feeling numb. There was a low rumble in the distance--either a truck or thunder, Scully could not tell which, and did not care. Once she was away from the thinning crowd, she walked deeper into the park and eventually sat on a bench under a large maple tree, the bottom of the leaves lighter than the tops, like the belly of a fish.

Time passed as did people, and both seemed to get fewer and farther between, the minutes slowing like dull drawn out heartbeats. A teenager gave her a disinterested glance and pulled his hood up over his head and walked on. A woman walking a pomeranian passed the other way, the dog pausing to sniff at Scully’s shoes.

One more low rumble, and Scully finally came back to herself; thunder. The wind had picked up and cooled off, the sounds of the trees above her gradually turning from a salubrious psithurism to an ominous rattle. She wasn’t wearing a coat and was starting to get cold.

She stood and looked around, trying to get her bearings. It wasn’t a large park, but it was long, and she was fairly far from the exit to the street. After a minute of walking, she thought she heard the shuffle of footsteps behind her and turned to look--there was no one there. When she turned back there was a person standing directly in front of her, appearing as if out of thin air. It was the teenager who had walked by her before--he looked older than she originally thought and his hood, which she realized now was more of a cloak, was pulled low over his face. He was holding a knife, and his gaze was intense. She felt the dump of adrenaline in her bloodstream.

He didn’t say anything, just stood in front of her, staring at her darkly.

“What do you want?” she finally asked him, sounding braver than she felt.

He mumbled something she couldn’t make out, shifting on his feet.

She had taken a self-defense course her sophomore year of undergrad, and her mind reeled trying to remember all that she had learned.

She felt the cold bite of her keys in her hand and tried to shift them as subtly as she could to get them between her fingers. He noticed and raised the knife.

“Don’t,” he said in a heavy accent, and she froze.

Scream, scream, scream the voice of her instructor came back to her, and she took a deep breath, just as the man in front of her started to twitch. She got the first “H-” of a blood curdling HELP! out before he made a move, and everything after that seemed to happen in both slow-motion and fast-forward.

He swung out with a fist which glanced off her stomach, rendering her scream mute and then slashed at her with the knife. She managed to get her arm up and out of the way and took a swing back at him with the fist holding her keys. Her punch glanced off his elbow and he moved forward towards her. Instinct took over and she brought her knee up for a groin shot. Her aim was off and she kneed him in the thigh instead, grazing it off the inside of his leg as he moved to defend himself.

Momentum carried her forward and him back, and she felt a dull blow to her left arm that didn’t hurt much. His free hand reached out with the speed of a snake and grabbed her wrist, yanking it back. Her keys went flying.

“Bitch!” he shouted at her and twisted her hand back until it was behind her and he was holding her from behind, his chest to her back. Adrenaline thrummed through her and her ears roared. She could feel the point of the knife just pressing into her side.

In one last ditch push of effort, she lifted her right foot up and slammed it down into the arch of his foot, connecting with a sickening crunch, just as her left elbow smashed into the arm holding the knife, which he dropped. It tinked onto the pavement of the path below them just as he gave a hollow grunt, his grip on her loosening.

She twisted away and ran, another dump of adrenaline boosting her forward. After a quick burst of speed, she risked a look behind her.

Nothing. Her attacker seemed to have dissolved as quickly as he had appeared, and she tripped in surprise, landing hard on her knees and hands.

It was then she noticed the blood on her arm. It was bright red and running thickly from a gash just below her elbow. The realization brought her back to herself, and the cramp that had been forming in her side from what she had assumed was running turned into a burn. She reached around herself with her uninjured hand and it came away dark with blood.

She felt another wave of panic and bile rose in her throat. She looked around. Her attacker was still gone, but so was everyone else. The park was empty and she was nowhere near the exit.

She rose to her feet and stumbled a few paces before catching sight of a small outbuilding, backlit by a dim light. The building was most likely used to store lawn mowers and the other horticultural implements needed to maintain a park. She made her way toward it, feeling a little weaker with each step.

Another low rumble of thunder cut through the air and she felt the first few stinging drops of rain start to fall. She finally got to the building and lurched around the corner toward the light.

The first good fortune of the day: a phone booth stood sentry beside the building, the blue plastic binder that should have housed a phone book hung down empty, limp as a dead bird. She threw up a silent prayer that the phone itself worked.

She floundered forward and picked the receiver up off of the hook. Dial tone. A relieved sob fell from her lips.

She dialed the operator and asked for emergency services just as the rain came down in a deluge. She slumped to the ground under the booth, giving halting, hissed information to a dispatcher, blood seeping into the ground beneath her knees.

XxXxXxXxXxX

She was separated from the rest of the patients in the ER by only a thin curtain that was occasionally thrown back with a curt shhtt! by any number of hospital personnel, quickly and at random. She flinched every time.

She was wearing an ill-fitting grey sweatsuit provided to her by the police officers who came to take her statement and her clothes, as evidence. She was allowed to keep her shoes, for which she was grateful. They were almost dry, though marked by a Pollack-like splatter of blood, mud and rain water. She had eight stitches in her arm, nineteen in her side, and a prescription for an antibiotic which she clutched tightly in her hand.

Shhtt! The curtain pulled back once again, this time admitting a nurse named Carmen--the woman was in her 50s and overweight, her hair pulled back in a dark bun with wiry strands of silver running throughout. She smiled at Scully, revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth. She’d had a tendency to call Scully “honey,” which Scully wanted to attribute to her sweet, maternal-like nature, but probably had to do with the fact that she couldn’t remember her name.

“You’re almost out of here, darlin’,” she said, mixing it up a bit as she dipped her head to look Scully in the eye. “The doctor is filling out your discharge papers, now. These,” she handed Scully a few pieces of paper that were printed in faded dot-matrix ink, “are your after-care instructions. Ibuprofen for the pain. You can take up to 600 ml safely, every six hours.”

Scully nodded mutely and folded the papers around the smaller prescription. Nurse Carmen patted her leg gently.

“Do you have someone you can call to come get you? It’s late.”

Scully glanced up at the clock on the wall -- it was nearly 3:30 am. She flipped through her mental rolodex and came up empty.

“I… I don’t have my keys,” she told the woman in a halting voice, “he knocked away my keys.”

“Do you have a Super or a roommate that can let you in?”

At the word “roommate” Scully felt tears burn in her eyes unbidden, but nodded at the nurse. Gary, their building manager, would be cranky as hell about it, but would let her in. She tried not to think about Mulder, and of course could only picture him on the porch of some oceanside cottage, sitting in a bench swing with Debbie while they fed each other crabcakes and drank red wine.

Shhtt! This time the curtain produced her doctor, who had been kind enough, but always seemed too busy or distracted to meet her eye. His head was always buried in a chart or steeped in concentration six inches from her skin, sewing her back together.

“All right Miss Scully, you’re free to go,” he said, snapping a folder closed. “Have you been assigned a detective yet for your case?”

“No, they said they’d call me,” she answered, and thought but with my luck…

He nodded and walked away, and Carmen touched her elbow and told her which way to go to get to the hospital exit. She passed by a pay phone near the door to the outside, but realized she didn’t have any change and gave the nurse at the nearest station her sob story before the woman, looking bored, handed her the station phone’s receiver and let her call a cab.

She headed outside to wait.

There was an ambulance idling just outside the emergency bay, the EMTs leaning against the side of the rig, drinking coffee and joking with each other. She couldn’t remember if they were the ones who had helped bring her to the hospital, so turned the other way and walked forty feet down the sidewalk, embarrassed.

She hadn’t asked how long it would be until the cab showed up and wondered how many were even on duty this time of night.

The pavement was damp, as if it had only just stopped raining, and it was still cold. She rubbed her hands together and stamped her feet to keep warm, the movement jarring the wound in her side. She felt close to tears.

She heard the roar of a motor coming up the empty road, but a quick glance proved that it wasn’t her cab, just a motorcycle tearing up the drive, going too fast for conditions. She wondered if maybe the driver was hurt when he skidded to a stop under the overhang directly in front of the ER doors.

The rider swung off his bike just as the two EMTs pushed off the ambulance, chiding him and telling him he couldn’t park there. The rider ignored them and whipped off his helmet, about to trot into the doors of the hospital when Scully recognized him and shouted his name.

“Mulder?!”

His head whipped toward her voice and then he came running, his face a mask of worry.

“Scully!” he shouted as he approached. He slowed only when he was nearly on top of her and reached out two hands, only to whip them back, as if afraid he might hurt her. “Scully,” he said again, “God! Are you okay?”

“How-” she said, not quite believing it was him, “what are you doing here?”

“I just found out,” he said, stopping short then stumbling into speech again. “That you were attacked. Jesus, I thought the worst.” He reached a hand out again, but didn’t touch her. “Are you okay?”

He must have driven in the rain. His jeans were soaked through and his hands looked red and chapped.

“Scully,” he said, again, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, slowly. She wanted to be dismissive, but she was in too much pain. “I’m -- I’m cut,” she said, raising up her arm to show him the stitches. “And here,” she said, pointing to her side.

“Jesus,” he said, “Will you be able to ride the bike? I need to get you home. Shit.” He looked around, “you can’t ride like this, we need to get you in a car.”

“No!” she said, and his head whipped back to her. “I can ride. Just… Please just take me home.”

He looked at her a long moment and then nodded, shrugging off his leather jacket to put around her shoulders. He helped her gingerly get it on, and then reached down to zip it for her. The inside of the jacket felt like silk, and was dry and warm. He put his arm around her and led her to the bike, the EMTs looking on silently, sipping their coffee and staring unabashedly.

He got her on the bike first, unzipped her jacket a bit to put her care instructions and prescription in the inside pocket, and then delicately lowered the helmet over her head, securing it before putting on his own. He got on, careful not to jostle her.

She was able to wrap her arms around him--luckily even the injured one--without much pain, and his body felt wonderfully warm and solid in front of her. He kicked the bike on, and he drove as carefully back to their apartment as he had driven pell-mell to get to her.

XxXxXxXxXxX

When they got back to the apartment, she was stiff, bone tired, and she wanted to tell him she’d made a terrible mistake, but she couldn’t find the words.

He escorted her to her bedroom door and hovered there, an energy radiating off of him that fairly trembled. She turned to him, one hand on the doorknob, and looked at him expectantly.

“Did he… hurt you?” Mulder asked. “Other than…” he gestured vaguely to her arm.

“Hurt me?” she asked, confused, and the look on his face broke her heart. Oh. Oh. “No,” she rushed out, and put a hand on his arm. “This is the extent of it. I got mugged, Mulder. That’s it.”

He must have rushed to the hospital without any information. She could only imagine all the dark scenarios running through his head.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said, “Okay…”

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she said, and he nodded.

“Call out if you need anything. At all.”

She took her hand off the door handle.

“I’ll leave the door open, just in case,” she said.

He nodded and backed away slowly, throwing her several concerned looks as he descended the stairs.

She fell into bed and slept for 12 hours.

XxXxXxXxXxX

At 4:00pm, she hovered at the top of the stairs, her tongue thick with sleep in her mouth, her side and arm hurting. Her hair was a mess and she was afraid of what lay at the bottom of the stairs. Of facing the day, facing Mulder, facing her future. She thought of the dolly zoom in Hitchcock’s Vertigo, and placed her foot on the first step.

Mulder was waiting on the couch and leapt to his feet when he saw her.

“I was getting worried,” he said.

“Post-shock sleep,” Scully shrugged.

“How are you feeling?”

In truth, she was feeling so many things they seemed to bottleneck in her throat and render her speechless.

Finally, she just said, “Fine.”

He nodded at her, letting the silence settle around them, and it occurred to her that he was using a psychologist’s trick--waiting for her to fill the silence. She smiled to herself and let him have the round.

“How did you know?” she asked, wanting to know since he’d shown up at the hospital on his motorcycle like Steve McQueen. “That I’d been attacked? Where to find me?”

He sat down on the couch and she gingerly lowered herself next to him.

“Sam called,” he said, “ she was working at dispatch when your call came in. When I walked in the door, the phone had been ringing off the hook. She called and called. I’m so sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

“You drove all the way down from the Chesapeake? In the rain?”

He looked at her, confused.

“I never went to the Bay,” he said, cocking his head to the side.

“You- what?” Scully said, sure she hadn’t heard right.

“I never went to the Bay with Debbie,” he said, “I went over to talk to her and break things off, like I said I would.”

Scully felt like the top of her head had lifted off and floated away.

“But Samantha said-” Scully started.

“Sam only knew what Debbie had told her the last time she saw her. We never went to the Chesapeake. I told Deb I wanted to see her before the trip, but only so I could break it all off. I ended up telling her everything. We sat and talked for hours… She helped me figure out what to do.”

“What to do?” Scully said, feeling like pages had been torn out of an instruction book she’d been trying to follow.

Mulder looked down at the floor and then raised his eyes to her.

“I’m not the kind of guy who can date a woman… when I’m in love with someone else.”

Scully felt a surge of hope and happiness so overwhelming she wasn’t sure what the look on her face was. Mulder read it as something else all together.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know you don’t feel the same way. And I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, and I swear going forward I will keep it to myself, but for weeks I’ve felt like this and I thought there might be a chance you felt it, too. But you don’t, and I respect that. I just… I needed to say it. I needed to say it out loud. Once.”

She felt light and heavy all at once, elemental. Lit from the inside, like she’d swallowed a mouthful of ginger.

He stood suddenly and ran his hands through his hair until it stood on end.

“This is all my fault,” he said, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Scully was taken aback.

“Your fault? Mulder-” she said.

“I shouldn’t have pushed myself on you,” he said, “after Ethan was here. You were hurt and vulnerable and- you said it was a mistake. It was. The mistake was mine.”

He looked to the ceiling, shoved his hands into his pockets.

“You didn’t push yourself on me, Mulder,” Scully said, refusing to let him take on responsibility for anything that had happened in the last 24 hours. She took a bracing breath. “And the only mistake was mine. When I told you that that night didn’t mean to me what it did. When I let you think for one second that I don’t feel the same way you do.”

His eyes snapped to hers.

She stood and walked to him, his mossy eyes searching and perspicuous. He was miles deep and a fathom tall. She realised in that moment--and she would be able to look back and remember it clearly--that to love him had an inevitable feeling. Inevitable as gravity. As death and taxes. She grabbed his hand.

“My life right now is as tumultuous and up in the air as it has ever been and might ever be. I’ve been figuring out who I am on my own. I’m giving up what I thought I wanted out of my career and life for what I know I want. I’m about to move 3,000 miles away. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I fell in love with my roommate.”

As he looked at her, a smile blossomed on his face and reached his eyes. He squeezed the hand she was holding.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away. Frankly, this,” she put her other hand on his chest, “scares me. But I also know I would regret not at least trying to be with you. I’d regret it until the day I died. I didn’t realize that until I thought I was about to.”

He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers, took a deep breath. She felt everything inside her click into place.

He leaned down and pressed the gentlest kiss to her lips.

XxXxXxXxXxX

They slept together that night--only slept. Mulder had gone out and picked up her prescription earlier in the day while she slept and the pills made her queasy.

Mulder tucked her into his own bed downstairs, brought her Saltines and ginger ale. When she awoke the next morning, he was curled around her. He helped her change her bandages and tie her shoes--she still couldn’t quite bend over.

At noon that day -- Labor Day -- the phone rang, it was Ellen calling from Seattle.

“Dana?” she said. “God, how are you?”

Scully didn’t have the first idea how to respond to that particular question, so she deflected.

“Ellen!” she said, “how are you? How goes the internship? You ready to come home yet?”

“It’s fabulous! And that’s actually why I’m calling. Dana, they offered to hire me on full-time. They want me to work out here while I finish my degree.”

“Oh Ellen, congratulations!” she said, feeling genuine joy for her friend.

“Thanks,” Ellen said, “I know you were counting on me to take the lease back over, and I can still probably help out for a few months now that I’m getting paid, but I thought I’d see how the new roommate is working out? Any chance he might want to stay for a bit longer?”

The roommate in question was currently tidying up in the kitchen, and came to the room’s doorway to eavesdrop on her conversation.

“The new roommate?” she repeated for his benefit, and then gave him a tart look, “He’s working out okay, I guess.”

At that, Mulder feigned insult and promptly whipped off his shirt and started doing push-ups.

“I take that back,” Scully said, maintaining eye contact with him while he exercised, by which she couldn’t help but get a little turned on. “He’s definitely working out.” Mulder stopped doing push-ups, sat up, and kissed his bare bicep. Scully let out a guffaw. “I’ll ask him.”

Ellen laughed too, without knowing why, and said “I’m so glad. And thank you. Oh, I’m going to miss you! Listen, I’ve got to get going, but we’ve got so much to catch up on. Talk soon?”

She watched Mulder as he disappeared back into the kitchen, still shirtless. “Sometime next week?”

“Done. I’ll call you. Bye Dane!”

“Bye!”

Scully rose to hang the phone back up on the wall and drifted into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe to watch Mulder as he put dishes away.

“You do that a lot?” she asked him.

“Do what?” he asked, without looking away from his task, “Housework like a helpful roommate, or exercise hard to maintain my girlish figure?”

She came up behind him and kissed his bare back.

“Your figure is decidedly non-girlish, Mulder,” she said, ignoring his question, “for which I am increasingly thankful.”

He turned suddenly in her arms and she found herself staring at his bare chest. He rubbed his hands up down the tops of her arms, careful not to get too close to her cut.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, leaning his face down into hers.

She nodded into his kiss, “Yeah,” she said, right before his lips met hers. She deepened the kiss immediately, remembering the way the big muscles on his upper back had moved beneath his skin as he did push-ups, the way he’d looked at her with intent the entire time he was doing them.

He let her lead, doing nothing more than returning her enthusiastic kisses and dropping his hands to rest lightly on her hips.

She reached down and tipped her forefingers into the tops of his jeans, pulling him closer and then running her fingers to his fly. He pulled back, just as she popped the button.

“Hey,” he said, nudging her face with his nose, brushing his lips lightly against hers. “What are you up for, here?”

She looked down at him with intent, at where his erection was pressing against the fly of his jeans. “Whatever you’re up for, flyboy,” she said, and nipped at him.

“I just,” he leaned back a little bit more, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She unzipped his fly slowly.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” she said.

“You pop a few of those stitches, your doctor might say otherwise,” he said, putting his hands on hers to still her movements.

“But I want you,” she said, licking her lips, reveling in the concupiscent lustiness he brought about in her.

He smiled at her slowly.

“We can figure this out,” he said, “we just need to be creative.”

“I have, so far, been both pleased and impressed with your creativity,” she said.

“Then allow me,” he said, and turned their positions so that she was standing with her back to the counter, then bent down to shimmy her sweatpants and underwear off, while she stood, patiently, wondering what his plan was.

When he straightened back up, he leaned forward, bracing his arms on the counter on either side of her.

“What,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her, “can you do that doesn’t hurt?”

She grabbed his head and brought his mouth back to hers for a deep, thorough kiss, then she released him.

“That,” she said, “didn’t hurt.”

He smiled at her.

“Noted.”

She reached forward and grabbed his fly again, and then started to lower his jeans down around his hips when she suddenly hissed in pain. Mulder grabbed her and straightened her.

“So no bending over,” he said. She nodded, a little disappointed. “Can you sit?”

“As evidenced by sitting on my ass nearly all of yesterday evening and again this morning, all information points to sitting being a medically approved position for Patient Scully,” she said in her best med student voice.

Mulder chuckled.

“Okay,” he said, and then surprised her by reaching down and easily lifting her up and onto the surface of the counter, which was cold against her aforementioned ass. She let out a startled yelp.

“Mulder!” she said.

“Was that pain, or the temperature of the counter?” he asked.

“The temperature of the counter,” she said through gritted teeth.

He smiled wickedly.

“The longer you sit on it, the more it’ll warm up,” he said.

She shook her head.

“Mulder, counters are for glasses, not for a-”

“Shh,” Mulder cut her off with a finger to her lips. “I promise I’ll clean up,” he said.

She tilted an eyebrow at him, but complained no more.

He put his hands on her thighs, spreading her legs apart so he could step in between them, their faces now perfectly level for kissing. He ran his hands lightly up her legs until his thumbs were just brushing at the crease where her legs met her pubis, sending a shiver down her spine.

He had pulled his jeans back up, but hadn’t zipped them, so she reached down and slipped her hand inside, grasping the silken steel of him, and he hissed into her mouth.

“You first,” he whispered, and then lowered himself to the floor, now at the perfect level to lean forward and press his face into her sex, giving her an open-mouthed kiss and inhaling deeply through his nose. “I love the way you smell,” he said, and then darted his tongue out to press into her labia. “I love the way you taste.”

She reached out and ran her hands through his hair, digging her nails into his scalp when he gently parted her labia with his fingers and started running his tongue softly over her clit, gradually with more speed and pressure.

She concentrated on keeping her torso immobile, which was difficult when all she wanted to do was gyrate her hips into his sumptuous mouth, chasing the orgasm she could feel building even now.

Just as he’d done before, he pressed one long finger and then another up and into her, and moments after he started rubbing the rough pad of her G spot, an orgasm surged up within her. She let go of his head and braced her hands on the countertop, holding herself as steady as she could as the waves crashed within her, and he gently lapped at her, slowing as she came down.

He stood when she exhaled, and she rolled her head from one shoulder to the other, letting the ringing in her ears lessen with each breath.

“How are you so good at that?” she asked, her tongue all lassitude in her mouth.

“I was a double major,” he said smugly, his cocksure grin charming as a flop-eared terrier.

She shoved him in the shoulder and he fell back a step, then moved forward to carefully help her down from the counter. She stood in front of him, still in a shirt with no pants, and he pressed a finger under her chin and tilted her head back until she was looking up at him.

“I like this look,” he said, “it’s very Donald Duck.”

She laughed and shoved his shoulder again.

“You know, I was going to push for reciprocity, but I think I just changed my mind,” she said.

“Nah,” he said, and leaned down to nip at her nose, “plenty of time for that.” He then leaned over sideways to look at her aftercare instructions, which had been stuck to the fridge. “When do you get your stitches out?”

“Friday,” she said.

“Gonna be a good weekend,” he mumbled into her lips.

She felt herself deflate.

“I leave for California the Friday after that.”

She hadn’t even begun starting to pack.

He leaned his head forward until it once again rested on hers.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered.

XxXxXxXxXxX

That night, they sat on the loveseat on their balcony, watching the stars wink on in the sky, Venus emerging brightly from the ecliptic. They drank iced tea (Mulder may have had a beer or two) and talked about how they’d handle being long distance, Scully tucked into Mulder’s side.

They had yet to come up with a plan that excited them both. The pull of sunny California started to wane.

“Have you ever found a place you felt like you belonged? Somewhere you just felt at home? Where you knew it was where you were supposed to be?” she asked him after a few minutes of silence.

He squinted his eyes, thinking. Then,

“It’s not down on any map,” he recited to the stars. “True places never are.”

Melville. She gave him a look, thought of her father.

“Yeah,” she said, “I’ve been searching for it my whole life. And I think… that place might be you.”

“You gotta go, Scully,” he said, looking down at her, knowing what she was getting at. “Med school is your dream, so it’s my dream, too. I won’t let you not go.”

She took a breath, knowing he was right.

“Besides,” he said, “I don’t want to be the only doctor in this house,” he said, then shrunk away from her, knowing what was coming. She swatted at him, then let him settle back against her.

They sat in silence for long minutes, until Mulder finally shifted.

“Be right back,” he said, and stood, her side going cold from where he’d been.

He came back a minute later, carrying the large white pillar candle that Scully had lit for him his first night in the apartment. He produced a lighter from his pocket, flicked it on and touched it to the wick, then set the candle on the small table in front of them.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, settling back onto the loveseat and gently tucking her back into his side. “Take this with you to California. I’m going to get one just like it. And when either one of us is doubting, or when things get too lonely or dark, we’ll each light the candle.”

She glanced up to look at his profile, her heart constricting in her chest with love for this man.

“To cast out the darkness?” she asked, her voice quiet.

He nodded, then rolled his head to look at her.

“I mean, we should have a go at the evil spirits, too,” he said, chuckling.

She smiled at him, and leaned her head against his shoulder, watching the flame dance in the light breeze of the DC night.

XxXxXxXxXxX

When Mulder got home from work the next day, Scully was on the couch trying to study, her stitches itching madly.

“Hey,” he said, swinging the door closed. He hung his keys absently on the hook by the door, and kicked off his shoes. He had something in his hand. He was radiating a nervous energy. “Something came for you in the mail.” He looked at her significantly. “From Georgetown.”

“Probably paperwork for the end of term,” she said, barely looking up. “I’ve got a lot of crap I’ve got to fill out. You can put it in the kitchen.”

He sat down next to her.

“I don’t think that’s what it is,” he said, and held out a standard white envelope.

She looked at the return address. Georgetown Medical School.

She felt her eyes go wide and looked at him.

“Go on,” he said, and she wasted no time tearing into it.

She read the letter twice before leaning back into the couch and finally looking at him.

“Don’t make me guess,” he said quietly.

“Accepted,” she said, the smile blooming on her face mirrored back at her. “Full ride scholarship.”

“You get to stay,” he said, mirabile dictu.

“I get to stay.”

The sunlight coming through the sliding glass door behind him glinted off his hair, turning it into a filmy halo of gold. He reached out and hooked her thumb through his pinkie, pulling her hand up until it was against his chest, pressing against his beating heart.

She felt the thump and swish of it, its heat and birr, and she knew what it felt like to be home.

THE END

#the x-files #fanfiction #MSR #AU #a companion unobtrustive #prompt #my fic #roommates

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chaeiimimi · 3 years

Note

Hi for the matchup event can I get a matchup set to the song Mr.lover man ? Please?

Some facts about me would be that I am a Virgo I love writing , reading , stargazing , and music. I really like astrology and astronomy and I am a cat person . my pronouns are she / they I spend most of my time with my 9 cats and my sugar glider. I'm 5'1 with red hair .... Um yeah

( I really hope I did this correctly if not then please feel free to ignore this )

I love your writing so much and I hope you have a great day! Please remember to drink some water and take care of yourself ! :)

I match you with...

Kuroo Tetsuro

Its almost ironic how you fell for this man, your love for cats and his feline features just fits perfectly. You (and your nine cats and sugar glider) were his home. He could spend his whole life watching stars, reading your works and adopting cats if it meant being with you. You were just so sweet and warm and you keep him grounded when things are a rough.

You weren’t really the time of person to go clubbing, yet your feet brought you here, lost in an ocean of strangers rubbing their bodies with each other to the beat of the extremely loud music that engulfed the whole premise

The bass of the bar’s music tingles your ears, the beat causing vibrations to reach your chest, your hands felt bigger and you can’t feel your legs from all the dancing, were you hyper aware of your own existence? Or were you just too drunk?

Why were you here? You know you’re not supposed to be here, why did you come here?

Ah that’s right, you were wishing you could see him, your lover

Your lover that stole your first kiss, your lover you’ve spent most of your high school and college life with, your lover who you shared a home with, adopted your nine cats and sugar glider with, the lover who made you feel safe and happy, the lover who you broke up with because you felt like you were not good enough, the lover who you neglected for months on end because you were drowning in self-pity and insecurities, the lover who cried in front of you begging you to stay, but you left anyways

What were you doing here in your mom jeans, baggy shirt and your pair of old vans? Your hair was a mess, your face was bare and you knew that you were nowhere near the level of the people he hung out with

And the lover who was now in front of you, his hands wrapped tightly around a woman, a woman who was very clearly levels above you, her figure that’s shaped like an hour glass adorned by a red skin tight dress, long legs that contributed to her towering height maybe at 5’8 , luscious black hair that reached her waist, her left hand placed on Kuroo’s waist as they talk to guest who looked like high-class people in their fancy suits and dresses

The sky was clear that night, you were on top of a little hill, Kuroo was setting up your telescope while you were setting up your snacks “hey babe” you called him, he whips his head to your direction with a soft hum “what would you do if ever we break up?” you asked he dramatically gasps and clenches his shirt “babe you really don’t think we could last do you? You’re hurting me here!” you roll your eyes at his antics and proceeded back to your task “if we were to break up, I’ll just have to get you back again, that’s a promise”

He lied

You slowly pushed your way through the cramped crowd, your knees wobbling, your hands shaking, was it because of the alcohol or was it because the extreme pain and regret in your heart? your vision started to blur because of the tears, the loud music was now muffled by your own heart beat

You knew you shouldn’t, but you still asked for another shot from the bar, you downed it in one shot, quietly hoping that it would at least ease the pain as you were forcing your mind to think about your pets waiting for you at home instead of him

You made your way out of the bar, fortunately you were sober enough to call a cab and walk somehow straight

You made your way to the exit, hoping you don’t bump into someone

But oh boy was it your lucky day, you bumped into a man, a very drunk man per se

“watch where you’re going missy! Do you want me to beat you up?!” you looked up and you were greeted by a very angry looking man

You apologized profusely but stopped when you felt your arm getting grabbed

“since you’re a pretty girl, maybe you can apologize to me in a different way”

You backed away, the fear sobered you up but he just steps closer and closer whenever you take a step back up until your back bumped into a hard figure

A scent engulfing your senses, you recognize that scent anywhere

“hey man, I don’t appreciate you harassing women” he says, his tone friendly but laced with coldness

“especially if it’s my woman” he added, your heart’s pace quicken as you felt your knees wobbled like it was about to give out, thankfully he encircled his other arm on your waist to support you

The drunk man couldn’t do anything and walked away spouting out curse

“hey, you alright kitten?” he asks his voice significantly softer

You couldn’t hold it in, you cried loudly, thankfully the music muffled your voice

Kuroo was quick to engulf you in his embrace, burying your face in his chest

“I missed you so much” you said in between sobs

“I don’t think you miss me as much as I missed you kitten”

You stayed like that for a while, before you pulled away

“you should go back to your date” you said, bitterness clear in your voice

Instead of letting you walk away he scoops you up and carries you like a sack of rice

“Kuroo! What are you-“

“Do you think I would ever let you out of my sight again? god I was like a living corpse for six whole months and she’s Kia, my cousin”

You stayed there silent, too embarassed to speak, how could you assume things so quickly?

“kitten?” he suddenly calls you as he exits the bar with you on his shoulders“hm?” you hum in response

“you know I don’t break my promises right?”

BSHSHSHSJ you are so sweet😭💖, I hope you like this one, I couldn't bring myself to write about a character's death but I did try my best to somehow relate it to the song, please take care of yourself luv😊

#Chaeii's 100 followers event #haikyuu playlist #haikyuu matchups

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ravenforce · 5 years

Text

New Dawn

Prompt: "I really loved that story (see you in a minute) and I hope that later you can make the story of Natasha x reader of how their relationship was given until arriving at the battle of Thanos I would love to read it. And I hope you crave your other stories”

Requested by: @ecruzsalaz

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 8987

Warning/s: Nothing!

A/N: Hey guys! I’m alive! I am so sorry for being AWOL for a while after posting the end of the SYIAM universe. I had a terrible writer's block, I got a new gaming console (Switch), had so many things happening at work before the end of the year, and I’ve been sick. Nothing life-threatening, don’t worry guys but I am back! Thank you for being here.

Also, I proofread this twice but if there are still mistakes that escaped me, I apologize. I hope you guys like it. PLEASE comment and/or message me your reactions. I missed it! xx

PS. I’m not sure if this can be read as stand-alone. If it gets confusing, you might need to read See You In A Minute series first. Please refer to the masterlist on my description.

***

Semi-retirement from fieldwork and mostly working on your lab at the compound is so reminiscent of your days as International Operations Director of STARK Industries. Your time is on your hands to do what matters to you the most and that’s spending time with your family. Anyone who knew you before you joined the Avengers would laugh at the idea of you settling down nicely to family life.

You and Tony were a force of nature, who comes and goes as you both please; leaving satisfied bodies but empty hearts. No one can keep you down long enough to tie you down. You’re always on the move; either galavanting the world using Tony’s private plane or crossing international waters lazily using your own yacht.

You were brought back to the present when you felt your daughter kick you under the lab table where the two of you are playing chess. You two are the designated people to man the fort while the Starks are in Miami, and your wife went to check up on Laura with Maria, Wanda, and Carol. The old you would have felt bummed to be left behind but spending alone time with your daughter is hands down one of the best use of your time; up there with being in the company of your wife, of course.

“Where’d you go, mom?” Asya asked as she surveys the chessboard; definitely planning a massacre of your pieces.

You smiled up at her because even though a lot of people said she looks like you, there are moments where she looks exactly like Natasha. Heaven knows you’re so whipped for both the two.

“I just thought of how no one from my past would ever tell you married life is where I’m headed.”

“Not even uncle Tony?” she asked as she glances up at you.

You grinned, “especially not Uncle Tony.”

Asya laughed. She has heard stories from Tony and the others about you, before joining the Avengers and before dating Natasha but she’s never heard your side of the story yet. She moved her King in preparation to make her killer move.

“Mom, would you mind telling me how you and mom met?” she asked sheepishly. “From your perspective, I mean.”

You looked at the board for a minute before looking back up at your daughter. “It’s a long story.”

”We have time,” she defended easily. Because you have, Natasha and the others are not gonna be back until tomorrow night.

You glanced at the clock. “Very well. We should finish this and order some pizza?”

Asya’s eyes twinkled with excitement at the prospect of hearing your story, as well as having greasy delivery pizza for dinner. She immediately hopped off her seat before standing at the side of the table. “Then make your move already mom, we don’t have all night,” she sassed playfully.

Yup, totally just like your wife, Venom said in your head.

You chuckled before moving your piece. “Checkmate,” you said before standing up and walking towards the door of your shared lab.

Asya gaped at the board. She was sure she got you on her hook.

Savage, Venom cheered in your head. You only chuckled to yourself.

“Coming, love?” you asked innocently. When she looked at you, there was pure adoration in her eyes and maybe a hint of fire. Surely, she’s gonna ask for a rematch in the coming days. After all, she’s yours and Nat’s daughter.

***

Eating at the huge family dining table without the rest of the family home is a tad depressing for both you and Asya. So you two decided to just bring your box of pizza at the front porch.

“Go on mom. I wish to sleep at some point in the night,” Asya sassed as she dabs the pizza with a napkin to rid it of excess oil; a habit she picked up from Nat for sure.

You laughed heartily. “Okay, okay. I met your mother the day I arrived back in Miami,” you started.

Asya knew the basics: how you were basically adopted by the Starks after your parents passed away, how you and Tony are thick as thieves; going to the same university, traveling the world until you two decided to stay in Switzerland for a while. The only time you were basically separated was when Tony needed to run the business in the US and he needed you to stay on top of the business in Europe and Asia.

***

You inhaled deeply as you stood on the pavement in front of Stark Industries Headquarters before squaring your shoulder and strutting inside the massive building. You were immediately met by Dylan an intern who was supposed to escort you to Tony’s office. Dylan blatantly stared at you through the mirrored walls of the elevator. Typical. When the lift stopped at the penthouse, he didn’t step off.

“Thank you, Dylan,” you said smiling. He looked so surprised that you even bothered to read his nameplate.

You walked the short distance from the lift to the door and was not surprised to see the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Definitely typical since Tony has a knack of choosing the prettiest woman to be by his side. After all, he chose Pepper.

“Hi, I’m here to see Tony,” you greeted politely. You had to reign in the urge to shiver and groan the moment her green eyes met yours. She’s breathtaking that you had to take a moment to compose yourself. You’re Y/N Y/L/N, you reminded yourself. You get girls as pretty as her whenever and wherever you go.

“Name?” she asked confidently, her eyes never wavering. At that moment you knew, this woman, this Natalie Rushman is different from Tony’s previous assistants.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you answered.

Natalie looked at her computer. “I’m sorry but you’re not on his scheduled meetings today,” Natalie said matter-of-factly. You tried to pout, and talk your way in but Natalie isn’t one to swoon over you. Not typical!

“Come on, Natalie. I know for a fact that he’s having lunch with Pepper right now,” you said as you walk a few steps towards the door but Natalie was lightning fast on her feet and already blocking your path.

“Take one more step,” she warned you.

You were right, this woman is something else because, at this point when you’re this obnoxious, Tony’s previous assistants would do only two things. One, they will faux put up a fight but let you in any way. Two, they will call security on you. So far, Natalie has done none of that.

You cocked your head to the side. “Or what?” you challenged her by stepping right into her personal space.

Natalie looked into your eyes before she shoved you and pin you against her table, which causes some of her things to fall and make a ruckus on the floor. She wasn’t really hurting you but her grip is strong and she’s clearly capable if you pushed her one more time. Any other time someone pushes you, you would have been mad but instead, you just started laughing. Natalie looked at you like you’ve grown another head but she didn’t let you go.

“First meeting and you’re already tied down,” Tony snickered from the door where he and Pepper are standing to check on the noise. You groaned at the fascinated look of your friends' faces.

Natalie let you go. You stood up and started straightening your navy three-piece suit.

“Fuck off,” you said before walking towards the pair.

“Not you though,” you said to Pepper before giving her a familial kiss on the cheeks.

“Welcome home,” Pepper said before shooing you and Tony inside. When the door closed, Pepper walked towards Natalie who was suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Who was that?” she asked quietly after picking up all her stuff from the floor.

“That’s Tony’s best friend, his little sister. She has level 10 access to Tony too.”

“Shit,” Natalie cursed under her breath.

“Don’t worry she’s cool. Sometimes, even cooler than Tony,” Pepper said before walking away laughing.

***

“Mama pinned you on your first meeting?” Asya asked before breaking into fits of giggle.

“Stop! It wasn’t that bad,” you said as you throw the pizza box on the bin.

Asya walked back to the house on the reverse so she can look at you. “I’m sure it wasn’t, mom. It’s very romantic,” she said teasingly.

Very, Venom decided to chime in and gang up on you.

“I had enough of your sass, missy. You better run,” you mock threatened her. Asya squealed before running off inside the house. You laugh hard before walking leisurely after her.

***

After checking that all the doors were locked and activating the night security protocol, you walked back to the common living area only to be met by a flying pillow right in your face. You let out a very dramatic fake gasp and caught the pillow in your hand. When you looked at your daughter, already looking comfortable on her very own blanket fort.

“What happened next?” she said while wiggling her toes at you.

You held up a finger before running upstairs and rushing through your nightly routine. After exactly, ten minutes, you came down with your matching silk pajamas.

“Finally,” Asya groaned dramatically but smiling.

***

The second time you met Natalie, you didn’t expect it to be at S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters where Fury is introducing you to the Avengers as the new recruit. She doesn’t look happy to see you there. She looked like she wanted to protest your credentials but was polite enough not to do so in front of everyone. Tony was so happy when he found out Fury accepted your application at S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s the least you can do since you failed at convincing your best friend not to join a ‘superhero initiative’.

Pepper still wasn’t happy by your “alternative solution”, saying how now she has to worry for two. Fury deemed that two heads like Tony Stark are better than one. Hence, why he accepted you at S.H.I.E.L.D. Afterall, you were the one who helped Tony synthesize the new element to stabilize and upgrade the Iron Suits. Your job at S.H.I.E.L.D is mainly at labs, helping build new weapons for the agents and the Avengers.

Word travels fast even in a secret organization. People at the labs kept wondering why you’re in there with them when you can be out there with the Avengers. A conversation that came up once when you decided to take a break at the same time as everyone. It was a bright and sunny day, the lab rats decided to eat a snack at the outdoor sitting area when the quinjet landed on the distance. Everybody watched you watch the plane come to a full stop.

“They said you grew up with Tony Stark. They said you’re as smart as him,” the one named John said.

You turned to him. “Is there a question in there?”

A younger man, named Carl, smiled. “They said you have a black belt in jiujutsu and mixed martial arts as well.”

"I still don’t hear any question,” you said smiling before taking a sip of your coffee.

“I guess what they were getting at is why are you in the labs with us?” the only other woman in your lab team, Hailey, asked. “You can be one of them with that credentials,” she continued, nodding towards the direction of the quinjet.

It’s not a new question; you’ve heard variations of it a lot of times when you were growing up with Tony. And the answer has always been the same. “Someone has to look after his back.”

They all cocked their heads to the side. “You can’t watch someone’s back if you’re too close to them. I’m better at protecting him from here; where I can see clearer.”

Your team was surprised that you’re foregoing the fame that comes with standing side-by-side Tony Stark. Then they all nodded, newfound respect shining in their eyes.

“Besides, I’m really not good at limelights. That’s Anthony’s thing, I’m more of the fly-under-the-radar type,” you continued lightly.

“You mean you’re the lab rat type,” John joked cautiously but relaxed when you broke out into a belly laugh.

***

The third time you saw Natasha was in the training room. A part of the being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent was to know how to fight. Even though you have a background on different fighting styles, you still pushed yourself to train harder. You found out a long time ago that you liked training in private and that’s how Nat found you punching and kicking at the bag until it broke open. She stole your file from Maria, she knows your credentials but something about you irks her.

“What did the bag do to you?” Nat asked from the doorway in lieu of a greeting.

You looked up at the sound of her voice and you smiled at her when you spotted her leaning against the doorway. Nat thought your smile was charming but she wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that.

"Good morning, Agent Romanoff,” you said before picking up your water bottle and chugging the contents of it.

Nat didn’t mean to but she followed the movement of your throat, down the curve of your neck to your tracksuit covered chest. You coughed to catch her attention. When she looks up she didn’t know whether she wanted to punch or kiss the smug look off your face. So what if you caught her blatantly checking you out?

“Training at this hour?” she asked holding your eyes. She’s Natasha Romanoff, she’s not gonna be intimidated just because you’re super cute.

“Yes, I woke up early for a conference call in Geneva. I couldn’t go back to sleep. So, I thought I might as well just start early," you explained.

You tried not to vomit the words but failed spectacularly. Nat thought it was adorable as she watches you wrap a protective bandage against your bruising hand.

“You’re still working at Stark Industries?” she asked impressed.

“Technically, yes. I’m a member of the board and consultant. I mostly only work with Pepper and Tony now,” you answered.

Something about Natasha renders you unable to give simple answers, it annoyed you. When she didn't say anything else, you took it as your queue to leave. You’ve heard how the Black Widow likes her space, keeps to herself and not one who gets chummy with agents.

“Do you want to train with me?” Nat asked.

Something about her voice gave away her hesitation. You looked at her bewildered at first but you grinned before dropping your bag and joining her in the mat.

Nat didn’t show it but she was glad you decided to stay. In the few minutes that you were talking, Nat found herself wanting to get to know you better. She did her own research on you because she thought you’re just another billionaire, philanthropist, playgirl but you proved yourself different. You’re modest and don’t brag about your lifestyle. In the weeks that she has observed you, Nat found that you’re also infinitely funnier than Tony.

***

Time flew by the moment Nat started throwing punches, as well as directions on how to fight better. One cat scratch on your eyebrow and a busted lip later, people started pouring in the training room for their morning exercise including Steve and Clint.

“Get those injuries cleaned and checked out at the infirmary,” Nat said before hopping off the mat and passing both boys on her way out. You didn’t see it but Nat narrowed her eyes at them, which made both of them chuckle before turning to you. Clint came over to you first, introducing himself formally.

“You got a death wish or something?” Clint asked lightly, his eyes alight with mischief.

You cocked your head to the side, not understanding the line of questioning.

“No one asks Natasha to spar or train, ever. She’s the learn-from-your-failure kind of teacher,” Clint continued chuckling.

You shouldered your bag. “I didn’t ask her to train. She did,” you said before smiling and walking back to your room to shower.

Clint blinked once, twice before he caught Steve’s eyes who clearly heard what you said. They both started grinning at each other, the same thought running in their head.

***

It’s like the world tilted off its axis ever since Nat found you in the training room. Since then you’ve been seeing her more like she stopped actively avoiding you. While you made strides befriending Steve, Clint, and Bruce; Natasha still needed a little work but that was okay. You were willing to wait until she’s ready.

It was enough that she works out with you every morning when she’s not out on a mission. It was enough that she trains you to become a stronger, faster, better agent than you already were. Coupled with your smart weapons inventions and deadly fighting skills, Fury even lets you officially join Agent Hill’s tactical team.

Nat was secretly so proud yet madly worried when you go on missions without the Avengers because she likes having your back and vice versa. You make a deadly efficient team; dare she say better than she is with Clint. She tries not to dwell so much on what it means, or what it means when her heart race when you get injured in battle, or what it means when her breath caught in her throat when you smile at her but Clint won’t let her. Clint takes it upon himself to bug Natasha, in private, to inspect these feelings.

“If you ask me, I think you may have a crush,” he said one time after you all got back from a joint mission in Sokovia. Fresh off the shower, and lounging on Nat’s bed Clint waited for her to finish drying her hair.

Even over the sound of the dryer on her hand, Nat heard him. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought and begrudgingly, she knows that her best friend was right. After all, he was one of the few people who know her best but he doesn’t need to know that, did he?

“Thankfully, I’m not asking you,” she said after exiting the bathroom and flopping down beside Clint.

Clint laughed hard and rolled onto his back. Seeing this side of Natasha makes him happy.

***

Steve figured it out next. Thankfully, he isn’t as nosy as Clint but it still annoys Nat when she sees him smiling every time he sees her talking to you.

Bruce found out after Clint not-so-subtly elbowed her when you entered the compound in crisps red three-piece suit and whispering business with Tony. You two were so engrossed with looking at your tablets, you both didn’t notice the rest of the team watching. You only noticed them on your way out. So you waved goodbye, Nat may or may not have stared at your ass as you exit the room.

“Close your mouth, Natalia. It’s very unbecoming,” Tony whispered on Nat’s ear. Nat groaned before averting her eyes and turning around to face Tony’s very smug face.

At that moment, she knew she was doomed but she’s not gonna fold to Tony Stark; no matter what.

“Not a word, Stark,” she warned.

“What? I haven’t said anything yet,” Tony defended.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“What? I think you like my sister?” Tony challenged playfully. Nat only glared at him before opening the magazine she stopped reading the moment you walked in looking like a dream.

“I mean, how can I blame you? She’s perfection. She’s smart without being annoying like me, she’s beautiful, funny and above all, loyal.” Tony said solemnly

Nat glanced up at him. At least, they can agree on some things.

“I…” Nat started. Tony held her eye, definitely waiting for her to lie and deny his accusation. “I do but keep your mouth shut or I’ll cut your tongue.”

Tony smiled amidst the definitely real threat as he sees the genuine fondness that’s usually absent in the cool, collected Black Widow’s eyes. He resolved to keep his mouth shut, for the moment, at least.

***

Nat was so sure one of the boys would rather out the moment they get you alone but a few weeks after the confrontation with Tony, Nat can see no change in your behavior whatsoever to indicate that someone squeaked. She’s secretly grateful because the last thing she wants is for your budding friendship to turn awkward just because of a schoolgirl crush.

‘It’s just a crush’ has become Natasha’s personal mantra that she recites in her head every time you so much as smile at her while passing the corridor. And while Nat resolved to do absolutely nothing about her feelings, the universe seems to have a different plan. The following weeks, the universe launched into a series of events that helped Nat ease into accepting that she has indeed fallen in love with you

First, Fury sent you and Tony on a tandem mission in an undisclosed location, which launches Nat into a full-blown panic.

“Agent Romanoff,” Fury said first.

Nat didn’t back down on her demand to send Steve or her or anyone as back up. Fury watched his other sort of adoptive daughter quietly and carefully. Nat tried not to squirm under the scrutinizing gaze of the only father figure she has in her life. Fury smiled eerily when he caught up. Maria tried not to chuckle but failed.

“Agent Y/L/N is more than capable of completing a simple mission,” Fury finished before turning on his heel and walking away. Before he leaves, he looked back at Natasha. “Stand down Agent Romanoff, that’s an order.”

Nat huffed and kicked her boot down on the concrete floor. Steve, Clint, and Maria exchanged worried yet amused looks across each other. “Sit down,” Steve gently dragged her over one of the chairs in the command center.

“She’ll be fine. Y/N is not only a good fighter but she’s also a genius,” Clint tried to assure Nat but nothing can make her sit still.

She worries about you, she worries that Tony will be too distracted to watch your back properly and she wouldn��t be there to protect you. Nat tried to reason to herself that the burning need to protect you is because you’re a part of their team, and she protects her team.

***

A few hours passed and Nat couldn’t stay and do nothing. She stood up and walked towards the same exit Fury went through. Steve caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

Nat pulled her arm back, “I can’t stay here Steve! I will find her and make sure she comes home to me.”

Everyone smartly decided not to comment on that one. They all understand that having romantic feelings for someone is really foreign for Natasha. It’ll be suicide to push her.

“Fury gave you an order,” Steve, ever diplomatic, said.

“Fuck what Nick said,” Nat nearly yelled before taking a few stomping steps back.

Back away from the door and completely caught up in her worry and fighting with Steve, Nat didn’t see you and Tony step inside the room.

“Woah! Language,” Tony said then smiled at everyone before walking directly to where Fury keeps his precious Scotch.

“Miss me, Agent Romanoff?” you asked cheekily.

Nat felt all the stress of the past few hours leave her body the moment the sound of your voice entered her ears and registered in her brain. She turned to look at you, and you greeted her with a warm smile. You were surprised when Nat stormed towards you, looking royally pissed. You were prepared for a slap in your arm for whatever it is she’s pissed at you for but it didn’t come. She immediately pulled you into a hug before she can talk herself out of it.

This isn’t the first time Nat touched you. Ever since you’ve started training together, Nat seems to always find a reason to touch you. May it be holding your hand a little longer after helping you up from the mat or laying her head against your shoulder as you both try to get your breathing back after some intense sparring session or touching the ends of your hair whenever you’re sitting close together on movie nights. All these touches though are done in relative privacy; not like this, not where the Avengers and half of S.H.I.E.L.D are there to watch.

You smiled before wrapping your arms around her strong frame. If you were being honest, the mission was easy but you’re bone-tired after that ambush at the end of your mission. Clint cleared his throat, and Nat pulled away slightly but only to assess your physical well-being. She frowned when she noted your dirty suit, the small cut on your eyebrow, and your busted lip.

“I’m okay,” you whispered without breaking eye contact.

She didn’t answer, she just runs the pad of her thumb across your busted lip before kissing you.

***

“What?” Asya yelled, interrupting your story. The two of you are lying on your back inside her makeshift fort. “She kissed you first?”

“Yes. She did,” you answered. She looked so surprised for a second before she broke into a laughing fit.

“I guess, legends are just that; legends,” Asya said merrily after getting a hold of her sanity back.

You gasped. “Hey! Have you seen your mama?” you asked in mock offense.

Asya smiled at the dreamy look on your face. She secretly loves how much you love Natasha, even after all the time you’ve been together, and apart. It was impressive.

“She’s as breathtaking as the day I met her,” you said softly. “How would I know someone like her can like someone like me?”

Asya rolled to her side and lay her head on your chest. “You’re an idiot, mom.”

“Already? I thought I was just getting to that part,” you said before kissing her forehead.

***

You still haven’t figured out if it’s lucky that Fury officially made you an Avenger after that tandem mission with Tony a week prior or a curse because now, you have to move in on the compound with the rest of the team and deal with the boys’ teasing and being around Nat more often. Speaking of Nat, you hadn’t seen her for a week after she kissed you in the command center where everyone - literally everyone - saw. Maria said Nat asked Fury to send her on a mission.

‘So, she’s avoiding me,’ you thought.

An ache blooms in your chest when you think of Nat regretting that kiss but the time you spent training with Nat every morning taught you that she’s not good with feelings. Her history, her past, taught her that love is for children. She didn’t become the legendary Black Widow by being soft and loving, she became the Black Widow by being deadly. So you resolved not to push her, as well as not push your feelings towards her. She will come around if she wants to.

***

You and Nat saw each other exactly thirteen days after the kissing incident. You weren’t planning on counting but you did because you missed being in her company. It just so happened that you’re both busy people; she’s out there saving the world most of the time and you? Well, you’re juggling being an Avenger, a S.H.I.E.L.D lab rat, and a member of the board for Stark Industries. So you don’t exactly have a lot of time either. It took thirteen days before the universe, Fury and your schedules permitted you both to be in the same room for more than just two minutes.

It was midnight, you were walking the halls of the Avengers compound to your room when you heard groaning and sobbing inside Natasha’s room. Panicked that someone was able to slip inside everyone’s defenses and attack Nat, you opened the door and went inside her room with your gun in your hand. When you step in, Nat’s seating up on her bed alone. You checked her surroundings first. When you were positive you two are alone, you holstered your gun and called out for her.

“Tasha,” you whispered softly as not to startle her but she didn’t make a move to acknowledge you.

You walked in front of her. Only then did she blinked and looked at you. It must be a nightmare, you though; based on the beads of sweat on her forehead, the sheets balled up on her fist, quick breathing and unfocused eyes.

“Y/N?” she asked as softly.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe,” you tried to assure her but she only started shivering at your words. You sat beside her and pulled her in a hug. You continued to rock her gently and whisper words of assurance until her breathing slows and her heart rate came back to normal.

When Nat pulled back, you stood up to let her get back to sleep but she held on the hem of your suit like a little girl. You look at the fingers holding you in place and then back to her face a couple of times before she said something. “Can you sleep here with me?”

It took you a couple of seconds to figure that Nat wasn’t joking. You smiled before motioning her to lie down. She watched you peel away the layers of your suit. Had it been a different setting, you would have died from the intensity of the way she looks at you. Stripped down to your polo shirt and trousers, you started to climb her bed, only for a soft fabric to meet your face.

“Lose the pants and change into that. It’s more comfortable,” she explained.

“You buy your own Black Widow merch?” you teased her as you change the shirt she gave you.

Nat groaned playfully, averting your eyes as you start to undress in front of her shamelessly. “Yeah, a drawer full of it. I can’t resist quality,” she said casually.

“Well, you’re right. This shirt is really comfortable,” you answered after plopping down next to her.

“Told you,” she said before rolling on her side and scooting over until her back touches your front.

You’ve cuddled some in your lifetime, you can take the hint. You figured that taking hints is especially crucial to any kind of relationship with Natasha. So you learned how to read her earlier on, or at least try.

Safe and secured in your arms, Nat couldn’t help but sigh blissfully at the warmth emanating from your body, the feel of your arms around her torso, your chin on her shoulder, and your breathing against her ear.

“Thank you,” Nat half whispered half moaned.

Feeling emboldened, you kissed her shoulder. Thankfully Nat didn’t freeze at the contact. “From here onwards, know that you have me; always.”

Nat sighed. “It’s the red room,” she said simply. Something about the moment made it easy for Nat to open up.

Unconsciously, you tightened your hold against her. You’ve heard third-person accounts of the red room but never from the source. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I do,” Nat sighed out before turning in your arms and resting her head against your chest. She sighed once again before launching in the story of the red room. The sky outside her window was starting to turn purple when Nat finished telling her story and drifted off to peaceful slumber in your arms.

***

You noticed that after the nightmare fiasco, Nat is a little easier to approach than usual. She’s even more open to hanging out with you since then, which you didn’t mind because you love spending any time with her. May it be going on coffee dates (as Nat loves calling it) or training like a madwoman in the gym or sneaking out of the compound in the middle of the night to drive and get a midnight snack.

You absolutely love spending time together and getting to know each other in the process. You tried your hardest to slow down your descent to imminent heartbreak but you knew at that point that it was useless. You knew that even though you’ll only get heartbroken because Nat couldn’t possibly like a nerd like you, you’ll do it over again. Over and over and over again, if it meant you’ll always be by her side.

Unbeknownst to you, Nat had the same internal struggle about how someone like you can’t like a killer like her. She didn’t try to shove down her feelings they way she always does though. She tried but it was too late; her feelings for you sneaked up at her like an assassin. Of course, she knew she was attracted to you when she kissed you a couple of weeks ago but it was only after the nightmare incident that she allowed herself to want you for more than just carnal reasons.

You started to become a steady presence in her life, more than just a teammate. While kissing you in front of the whole team and S.H.I.E.L.D was a grand spur of the moment decision, one that she doesn’t regret, she lives for the little moments as well. She loves the way you seem to remember small details like how she takes her coffee, or the way you subtly take care of her by always cleaning her weapons too before going on missions, or the way you always pack a spare jacket just in case you finds yourselves on the eye of climate change. She loves the way you easily make her feel safe and calm. She loves the way you weren’t shy to deviate from the headstrong, broody character everyone knows you are and make a fool out of yourself just to make her laugh.

***

The only problem was, you both suck at talking about your feelings, let alone admitting them. You had the same but lowkey reputation with women like Tony, and she’s the Black Widow; Miss love-is-for-children. Everyone tried to help both of you confess; Tony and Maria tried to help you tell Natasha your feelings while Steve and Clint tried to help Nat ask you out but the world seems to have a crisis every time one or both of you decides to make a move.

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something,” Nat sighed as she walks to the quinjet after being called for a mission with Steve and Clint.

“I never pegged you to believe in signs from the universe,” Clint teased lightly.

Steve narrowed his eyes but Clint was never scared of Nat’s wrath. Besides, Nat was too distracted to be offended.

“Let’s just finish this shit as fast as we can,” Nat replied offhandedly while buckling herself in.

“We haven’t even left yet,” Steve said. Lips tugging upwards subtly. He likes seeing this side of Nat.

“I know, and I miss her already.”

***

“Wow,” Asya burst out; interrupting your story, again. “You two are,” she paused to search for the right word in her vocabulary.

Saps! Venom supplied.

Asya giggled. “Correct! You two are saps!”

You don’t know the half of it, child, Venom complained. It’s disgusting.

You laughed so hard, the walls of your makeshift fort shook.

***

The team tried to finish their assignment as fast as they could but it still took them five days. Five days with no communication with you made Nat almost jumped out of the quinjet the moment its tires hit solid ground. Clint and Steve just chuckled as they watch Nat power walk towards the compound. When they caught up with her, Nat’s frowning so hard on her phone.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked tentatively.

“Y/N’s not home,” Nat replied, clearly disappointed.

Before anyone can say anything Nat’s phone alerted her of a new message. Nat’s frown only deepened.

“I’m gonna guess. Not Y/N?” Clint asked teasingly.

Nat locked her phone before putting it on her back pocket. “No, it’s Maria. She said they’re at Stark Stadium. They need us to fill the Starks team.”

A couple of S.H.I.E.L.D agents passed by. “Let’s check it out. Agent Johnson said, Agent Y/L/N’s team is hot,” one agent said, not realizing that the three Avengers were on the other side of the room.

“What do you expect? Agent Y/L/N is hot,” another answered. The other two laughed.

Nat gritted her teeth before clearing her throat to announce her presence. The agents turned around so fast, the boys wondered if they had whiplash.

“Don’t you have better things to do, agents?” Nat said sternly.

The three agents gulped, nodded and scuttled away like ants on fire. Natasha watched them until they disappeared in the corner.

“Calm down, Nat. I’m sure they’re not that hot,” Clint tried to assure her as he stirs her to the direction of the garage.

***

Clint gulped when she saw who you were teammates with.

“Not hot, huh?” Nat said eerily calm as she watches you with your team.

Out of your S.H.I.E.L.D uniform, and in your black and red number 13 jersey you looked so much younger, more carefree. Nat smiled internally. She realized that as much as leather-clad Y/N is hot, she much prefers you on casual clothing because you look happier.

“How am I supposed to know Y/N’s friends with a lot of stunners?” Clint defended with a pout.

He knows there’s a flaw in his defense. Of course, you’ll be friends with a lot of beautiful people; you’re basically brothers with Tony Stark. You’re smart, funny, and beautiful too. Naturally, people gravitate toward you.

Nat put her hand up to silence Clint. Clint and Steve followed her gaze back towards the field where a certain blonde, wearing the same black and red uniform jogged towards you and tackled you in a hug. Nat watched as said blonde didn’t let go, and worst of all casually planted a soft kiss against the side of your face; dangerously close to your mouth.

“That’s Sara Lance, heiress to Lance Corp in Star City. Y/N’s last real ex-girlfriend,” Maria suddenly spoke beside her. “Also, I’m sure you’d like to know, she declared she came here to win Y/N back.”

Nat balled her fist before walking towards Tony’s side of the pit.

***

“Give me a uniform,” Nat demanded.

Tony laughed so hard, you heard it from across the field.

“I had a feeling you’ll want to be on my team,” he said before handing Nat a shirt with your last name on it.

Nat quirked an eyebrow.

“How am I supposed to know you’re coming back in time for the game? This is Y/N’s new uniform but she insisted on wearing her old one. So you can have this one,” Tony explained.

Steve face-palmed at the sheer dumb excuse but also the ingenuity of it. Stark has a parent-trapping game, Steve can give him that.

***

The game was supposed to be a ‘friendly’ match between the two tech giants but for some reason that escaped you, it was intense from the start. Sara refused to be subbed by Maria and played head to head against Natasha, which you definitely didn’t know played soccer.

“I didn’t know you play,” you panted out as you run the ball towards the goal with Nat running close beside you.

“You don’t know a lot of things about me,” Nat said as she tries to run and tackle you.

You scrunch your brow together but didn’t stop running. Before Nat can make try to take you down again, Sara came barrelling towards her; allowing you to run freely to your goal.

Score for Lance Corp! Amaya, Zari and Gideon crowded towards you. So you were unable to see Nat and Sara glaring at each other as they dust their uniforms off.

“So, you’re the Natasha Y/N can’t stop talking about,” Sara said candidly. “I’m Sara Lance, Y/N’s girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Natasha said deathly calm but Sara was never known to be easily scared.

Sara smirked. “Maybe but not for long,” she said confidently before running away to join your little group hug.

Nat frowned deeper as she watches Sara pull your body against her lit form and you seemingly unperturbed about it.

“Take her word seriously,” Tony said suddenly from behind Natasha. “If Lance is here to take Y/N back, she will do it. She’s smart and tenacious. So, play your cards right.”

“Play your cards right? That’s your advice?” Steve questioned incredulously. “I think you should just ask her out after the game.”

“Trust me, Y/N can’t be wooed by flowers, chocolates, and fancy dinner. People tried,” Tony said after rolling his eyes.

Maria sighed, which prompted everyone to look at her. “Got unsolicited advice for me, Hill?” Nat asked teasingly.

“Stop running away,” Maria said as she stood and get ready to get back on the field. “You kissed her and then disappeared for a week. You made her feel like you didn’t want her.”

The three gaped and watched the elusive Deputy Director as she runs back to the field and high-five you. Steve patted Nat’s shoulder before jogging back in too.

“I guess Hill trumps all our advice. Now come on, we have asses to kick,” Tony relented.

***

The game ended with Stark Industries winning, Nat wanted to gloat but none of the Lance Corp women seem to mind losing at all.

“Congratulations,” you whispered behind Nat. Nat tried to suppress the shiver but it was too late, she knew you saw it by the smirk on your face. She smiled at you.

“Thanks. This would have been more fun if you played in our team,” Nat said crossing her arms in front of her chest.

You shook your head. “You don’t mean that. I know you like that you bested me,” you said smiling.

Nat glanced at you before grinning. “You’re right. I did,” she admitted.

Your heart seemed to flutter every time Nat smiles at you like that. You wanted to say something, you wanted to pour your heart out to her at that moment but Sara yelled for you. Nat sighed heavily, and you gave her a sheepish smile. Sara yelled your name again, now louder and closer. Before you turned around you, Nat reached out and held your hand.

“Lance, stop yelling. I heard you the first time,” you said casually.

Sara ignored you and zeroed in on your joined hand. You tried not to squirm as the two sized up each other. Suddenly the room felt too quiet.

“Did you need anything urgent, Lance?” Nat snapped.

Sara peeled her eyes off your hands in Natasha and smiled sweetly. “Care to show this girl a good time?”

Nat rolled her eyes as Sara blatantly ignores her and flirts with you. You wanted to say that the city only became fun when you met Natasha. You wanted to tell Sara that fun isn’t about drinking yourself to stupor anymore, or getting high on your boat while you two cross the Atlantic. Instead, fun is making breakfast together with Natasha, training and kicking each other’s butt in the gym, sneaking out in the middle of the day to get a massage with Natasha, napping and cuddling Natasha, going on coffee dates with Natasha.

You wanted to say all that but your friends from Lance Corp came all the way from Star City to spend time with you and Tony. The least you both can do was show them a good time. You caught Tony’s eyes behind Sara, he smiled at you. The kind of smile that says, ‘I got a plan’. Sara caught the interaction and she knew they’re in for a long night.

“Get ready to party, Lance,” you said grinning.

***

The Avengers are not new to Stark parties. What they - especially Natasha - wasn’t ready for was you on party mode wearing the skinniest leather pants, tight black backless halter top, and boots. You arrived fashionably late with Maria.

“Mission accomplishes, agent,” Maria whispered as she watches Nat and Sara practically drooling the moment they laid eyes on you. You ducked your head to hide the faint blush creeping up to your neck and cheeks. Dressing up was Maria’s idea.

Nat was about to stand and walk towards you but Sara beat her to it.

“Patience, little spider,” Tony sat crossed leg beside Nat the moment Maria joined their table without you.

Nat turned to look for you and she nearly crushed the glass on her hand when she saw you dancing with Sara. It doesn’t help that Sara’s not only standing way too close but she also has her hand secured against your hips. Sara caught Nat’s eyes from across the dimly lit ballroom. It almost took every ounce of her self control not to go there and claim you but she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

Nat breathed in deep before taking a swig of her drink. Tony’s right, she has to be patient. Unfortunately for Nat, Sara was planned to monopolize you all night. Two hours after you arrived but Nat still hasn’t had the chance to at least talk to you. She had to step out.

***

When Nat opened the door to the back of the club, she was surprised to see you leaning casually on the adjacent wall; a bottle of water in hand.

“Took you long enough,” you chirped before opening the bottled water in your hand.

Nat scrunched her eyebrows. “What? How?” she stuttered out.

You smirked at her over the rim of the water bottle. “You’re not the only stealthy one, Tasha,” you said an octave lower than your speaking voice.

Nat bristled, “I thought you were with Sara?” She didn’t even try to hide the edge and tightness in her voice.

“I was then I missed you,” you said earnestly before walking towards her.

You left two feet between you. She didn’t say something for a minute, she just continued to frown at you.

You studied her for a minute before you decided that Nat’s really not in a bad mood. “Aw, are you jealous?”, you teased lightly.

Nat frowned deeper. The blatant ‘no’ is at the tip of her tongue but she didn’t want to lie, not to you; never to you. She held your eye before whispering a breathy, “yes.”

You stood toe-to-toe with her. You cupped her face on both of your hands. Nat held her breathe. “There’s nothing to be jealous about, Tasha.”

Nat couldn’t help it any longer. She pulled you by your hands on her face and wrapped you in a hug. You chuckled before wrapping your arms around her steady shoulders.

“I love you, Y/N,” Nat blurted out.

She expected you to freeze at the mention of the words. After all, you’re both allergic to love but it didn’t come. You stayed relaxed in her arms, and she can feel you smiling over her shoulder. She pulled back a little to look at you.

“I love you too, Tasha,” you said before planting a soft kiss on her cute nose. Nat chuckled, had it been anyone else, she will be annoyed but can’t with you. “Now, let’s go eat. I’m hungry from all that dancing.”

Nat watched you walk out of the alley and into the street for a minute before jogging up to you. “Wait, does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?” you heard her call after you.

“Hurry up or this will be the shortest relationship ever,” you joked.

Nat mocked gasped after catching up to you, just in time for a cab to sidled next to both of you. You were about to reach for the cab door when Nat pulled you back and pulled you in for another bruising kiss.

The cab driver rolled his eyes playfully but waited for both of you nonetheless.

‘Ah! Love’, he thought to himself and smiled.

The kissed lasted for a minute. Only breaking away from each other after the need for air persisted. You peered at Nat’s eyes lovingly. At that moment, on the side of the street with a very patient cab waiting for you, you decided Natasha will be the last woman you’ll ever be with. You’ll make sure of it.

***

Asya let out a soft ‘aww’ and nothing else. You listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing and you knew she has fallen asleep. You smiled down at your little miracle, and just before you could close your eyes your mobile phone vibrated next to you.

Wife: I hope you’re not feeding our daughter junk food. Much. I love you, see you tomorrow.

You: I did not. Much. I miss you, I love you. See you tomorrow. xx

#raven writes #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanova x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanova x you #natasha romanov x you #black widow x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanova imagine #black widow imagine #see you in a minute

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