#so many mulder/scully fics tagged UST back in the day

[baronessblixen]

A prompt for a fantastic writer: Set After Bad Blood. After interrupting her Magic fingers session, Mulder owes a massage to Scully :)

Thank you so much for this! There's UST, a massage, and maybe more. Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2021

Wc: 1210

Fictober Day 10

You Owe Me One

“He didn’t have buck teeth, Mulder,” Scully says for the hundredth time as they make their way from Skinner’s office back to the basement. Several agents glance at them, murmuring about their latest case that’s unofficially been dubbed ‘Spooky and the vampire’.

“He did,” he counters, seemingly oblivious to what their peers are saying around them. “I just didn’t know that was your type. Buck teeth and all.”

“I wouldn’t mind buck teeth,” she says, pressing the basement button in the elevator. Mulder, like a territorial bulldog even though they’re all alone in there, stands so close to her that she can smell his aftershave. It was all over her hotel room, too, back in Chaney, Texas. “But he didn’t have them, Mulder. Anyway, him being a vampire is what turned me off.”

“Hmm,” he says, nodding slowly. “Glad to hear you have taste.”

“As you should know.”

He looks at her, confusion in his expression. “You ate my pizza.”

“Ah,” he says and, as if to taunt her, licks his lips. “It was good.”

“You owe me one.”

“Huh?”

“A pizza. And come to think of it, you owe me a massage, too.”

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” She thought they were still joking. She considers taking it back, saying haha, got you. Something deep inside her stops her.

“It’s Friday, what do you say? Pizza and massage at my place?” His face is open; he’s not kidding. Scully finds herself opening and closing her mouth like a fish, nodding at him. “Great. It’s a date,” he finishes, leaving Scully speechless.

The word ‘date’ haunts her the rest of the workday and right up until she arrives at Mulder’s at 7 pm sharp. He opens his door with a huge grin on his face. He’s wearing her favorite shirt though she’s certain he can’t know that. With the slightest trepidation, she enters, taking off her shoes and coat. Mulder is still smiling at her.

“It really is you, isn’t it?” She asks, fearing another Eddie van Blundht situation.

“It’s really me and my magic fingers.” He holds up his hands and wiggles his fingers. “Massage or food first?”

After the week they had, she doesn’t even have to think about it. “Massage first, please.”

“Well, I don’t have a box you can just throw money in,” he says, flexing his fingers as they both make their way into the living room. “And come to think of it, I don’t have a bed either. But this couch is very comfortable, and I’ve never heard complaints about these fingers.” Scully looks at him and at his hands. They’ve prominently starred in some of her dreams. A few fantasies, too. She swallows hard. Maybe this isn’t the best idea after all. But her sore muscles scream out for his touch. A few other body parts do, too.

“Get comfortable,” he says softly, with an encouraging smile. She sits on his couch like she’s done so many times. Never to receive a massage though. “Lie down,” Mulder says, and she stares at him. “I’m not going to bite,” he adds, and she does as she’s told, the leather creaking under her weight. “Unless you want me to.” She hears Mulder quip.

She watches him open a bottle of massage oil and the smell of lavender that fills the room calms her. She breathes in deep and relaxes. It’s just Mulder. She’s asked for this.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly.

“Um, Scully?”

She turns to look at him. “Um… I think… it would be easier if you took your shirt off.” All his bravado is gone from his attitude. The fine pink glow on his cheeks makes her decision easy. She looks at him, lifts the hem of her shirt, and takes it off. His eyes slip briefly and she sees him swallow. She hides her smile as she lies back down.

“I hope my hands are warm enough,” he says and a moment later his fingers are on her skin. She can’t stop the moan that escapes her. “Good or bad?”

“Good,” she says, trying hard not to moan again as his fingers dig into her sore muscles. “Very good. You’re amazing at this, Mulder.”

“Still mad I stole your Magic Fingers in Texas?”

“Hmm… maybe a little bit.”

“I guess I have to work harder then.” Scully’s eyes flutter shut as Mulder’s hands work on her muscles. She feels his warmth seep into her, his own scent mixing with the lavender and driving her crazy. How is she ever going to forget what this feels like? From now on she’ll only want Mulder’s hands on her. For massaging reasons. She moans again when he hits another good spot and she hears him take in a deep breath, obviously affected by it as well.

“Still good?” He asks her.

“So good,” she sighs. “Don’t ever stop, please. Oh, right there.”

“I didn’t think you’d be so vocal.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles into the pillow she’s gripping.

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice low. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. You are enjoying it, right?”

“Yes, Mulder.”

“Good. And I just want to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For stealing your bed,” he says. “For stealing your pizza, too. For trashing your hotel room.”

“Not the first time,” she mumbles.

“Probably not the last either.”

She giggles and his hands pause, laying flat on her back, covering so much skin. She’s burning everywhere he’s touching her and her breath hitches.

“Don’t stop,” she says, downright begging. “Please.”

“I could do this all night,” he says and his voice sounds so much closer. “I’m better than the Magic Fingers, aren’t I?” Closer and closer still. Her breath doesn’t hitch this time, it stops altogether. His hand is on the small of her back, where it always is. Except this time there’s no barrier. His touch is gentle now, more of a caress. “Your skin is so soft,” he whispers, and then she feels his lips press a hot kiss to her neck.

“Mulder.” His name is all she can say, torn between a protest and a plea.

“I could do this every night, Scully. Every night you-“

A knock on the door interrupts him. Mulder’s lips disappear from her skin, as does his hand. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair, not looking at her. Another knock sounds, louder than before.

“It’s the pizza,” he says. “I shouldn’t have-“ he doesn’t finish his sentiment, grabs his wallet and goes to open the door. Scully listens to him and the delivery guy make small talk. She picks up her shirt and puts it back on, quickly smoothing it down, as well as her hair. She’s still breathing hard when Mulder returns with the pizza. He’s wearing an apologetic smile.

“They’re usually not this fast.”

“It’s okay. Thank you for the massage.”

Their eyes meet for a moment. What if they hadn’t been interrupted? She swallows the possibilities back down; they’re not ready for it. Not yet.

“I owed you one,” Mulder says with a shrug and a smile.

“Next time,” Scully says, taking a slice of pizza and smiling at him, “it’s your turn. I have talented hands, too.”

“Can’t wait,” Mulder mumbles, staring at her

#fictober21 #does the title come from an ABBA song? yes it does #this was so much fun to write! #hope you guys like it too #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[misslilli]

Thank you everyone who's still with me with this story 🥰

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. E for a little UST?. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 51 - A Little France and Little Italy

[ DS ]

"You're baaaaaack!" I'm not even halfway across the front hall of our school on my way to the classroom, books in one, tumbler of tea in the other, when a flash of brown hair and bright green backpack zooms towards me, almost knocking me over with the force of his hug.

"Good morning, Felix. I heard you missed me, huh?" Nodding vigorously, he takes my tumbler from my hand to slip his into mine, holding on so tight as if he's afraid I'll disappear again.

"Yes!! You’ve been gone forever! I’ve got sooo many things to tell you, did you know that Marie Antoinette never actually said 'Let them eat cake'? It was a big conspiracy to get her killed!” He whispers the last part in awe following me into my classroom, conspiracy theories seem to be a big hit with the Mulder boys.

“That’s true. You know, some say that what she said was 'Let them eat brioche' but no one actually knows if that’s accurate either.”

“Brioche?” Head tilted, Felix tries to wrap his mouth around the foreign word with a curious expression on his face.

I sigh at the chaos that’s my classroom, their teacher being out sick really makes the kids test the boundaries of the poor substitute teacher, so I start to tidy up my desk first. “Yeah, it’s a French pastry, really good and easy to make!”

“Ooh maybe you can come to my house one day and we can make it together! Dad’s a really good cook but sadly for me, he can’t bake.” If he only knew that this is not only a maybe-scenario if things continue to go as well as they are right now.

“Mh-hm maybe. You better get to class, if you don’t want to listen to me telling off my kids for the mess they left yesterday!”

“Uuh no thanks, I’d rather not! I’ll tell you about the Guillotine at recess okay?” Backpack bouncing, he hurries off to his own classroom, whistling the Marseillaise under his breath. Man, he’s cute, and incredibly smart for his age too.

Great, now I've got the French national anthem stuck in my head for the rest of the day, it's a really catchy tune and at times, the kids tumbling into the classroom in the morning certainly feels like the storming of the Bastille.

Aux armes, citoyens!

The only upside to being out sick is the way the kids's faces light up when they see that you're back, falling over themselves to tell you how much they've missed you and how awful it was with anyone who volunteered to take over the classroom in your absence. "They just don't get us like you do, Miss Scully, you know?," is Kyle's wry comment, accompanied with a nonchalant shrug, on the whole situation.

"It's nice to be missed, guys. Now sit down, we need to talk."

"And then, whoosh, the blade comes down and off comes the head, drops right into a basket, ugh, isn't that the most disgusting thing you've ever heard, Miss Scully?"

I'm treated to the history segment of The Felix Show at recess today, grinning at his flailing arms and obvious excitement about the French Revolution.

"It's pretty disgusting, yes." I don't tell him that the last beheading in the United States took place not as long ago as the French Revolution, it was in the 1930's. I also don't tell him that there's still a death penalty in several states to this day, I'm sure he'll find that out on his own some day. "How do you know all this, Felix?"

"Oh, I found a book on it in my mom's library and after hours of convincing her that I'm not too young to read about it, she finally gave in! She even let me keep it! Isn't that so nice of her?" 'After what she did to you at Christmas, giving you a book is the least she can do…' is what I think to myself, to Felix I agree with his statement, yes, that's very nice of her.

Going from Little Felix's France at noon to Little Italy in the afternoon, Mulder and I head up to Boston to have a bite to eat at a cute place, with its red and white checkered tablecloths and Italian music playing quietly in the background. The owner is a short, portly, loud man so quintessentially Italian, it adds a lot of authenticity to his restaurant and he greets us at the door with open arms.

When he notices the hand that rests protectively on the small of my back, he rightly deduces we're here for a date. I'm only glad he can't notice the familiar shiver that runs up my back from that spot.

"Aaah lovebirds. I have-a the perrrfect table for-a you!," he exclaims in his adorably exuberant way, ushering us to a corner booth along the glass front that runs along the length of the restaurant, giving us a little privacy away from the late lunch / early bird crowd, the curve of the booth also allows us to not sit across from each other awkwardly, but much closer together.

————

[ FM ]

In my head, I pretend that the slight sway of her hips Scully adds to her walk over to the table is there just for me, to draw my attention to the snug fit of her jeans and I also pretend not to notice the heads turning when we walk by the many booths. Pick your jaws off the floor fellas, before I make you.

We slide into the booth, going through our little routine of her picking the wine while I stare at her awestruck, taking in the perfect arch of her eyebrow, the scrunching of her nose in concentration and the slow tongue-tracing of her lips that seems to help her think while it only helps my own thoughts to fly right out of my head.

Adding one more step to our routine, I read out the dishes from the menu I think she'd find most disgusting out loud, just to make her laugh.

"You know, the Italians will have your head for using a spoon to do this.” Following her teasing gaze to my hands twisting spaghetti around my fork with a spoon, I shrug sheepishly.

“I’m sure I’d be a big hit over there, I also love to put pineapple on my pizza!”

“Ugh, no! Why did you have to tell me that??” With a chuckle at her wrinkled nose, I point my fork at her accusingly.

“Don’t go all culinary high-and-mighty on me Miss Scully, I’ve seen you eat a burger, with a fork and a knife. That’s un-American, you eat that with your hands!”

Testing the waters during dessert, I point out the gentleman having lunch at the bar, the one that's been turning his head for the entirety of our meal from antipasti to tiramisu, to stare at her with unveiled interest. My statement earns me a playful little shove to my arm and an incredulous look.

"He does not gaze at me, Mulder!"

"Does too! It's like I'm invisible!" I insist peevishly.

With a flirty smile on her lips, she leans over, bringing her face so close to mine I forget to breathe and think for a fleeting moment. "Good thing I'm too distracted by you being decidedly non-invisible to notice, hm?" Mh-hm, good answer.

The innocence and matter-of-factness with which she states the obvious paired with the sweet kiss she presses to my lips raises the hairs on my arms and before I get past wondering if she has even the faintest idea what she's doing to me, she's back on her side of the table, scooping up another forkful of tiramisu.

——————

[ DS ]

“That was absolutely delicious!” Sitting back giving a contented sigh, Mulder spreads out his arms over the back of the booth and his knee bumps into mine almost as if on accident when he spreads out his legs too. I’d pass it off as an accident if it didn’t happen again and this time, he keeps his knee exactly where it landed.

"So, the gas-stove-dishtowel story had me thinking. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be and why?"

The casually placed knee stays right where it is, even with his upper body angled towards me posing that odd question and now I’m not only distracted by the way his shirt stretches deliciously over his broad chest but also by the excited tingle that spreads from the small spot where our legs touch.

A million things come to mind, the three coffee cups I've kept from our Starbuck's dates, the ticket on its lanyard from our trip to the chocolate factory, the giant teddy from the Carnival that has taken over the armchair in my office… all of them prized possessions, but there's one thing that's of even more significance to me.

"When I was about six or seven, my dad had to leave for an extended period of time and we were so sad to see him go, he built us each a replica of the ship he was going to be stationed on. What would you save?"

He trails his fingers along his sharp, afternoon-stubbled jawline, taking a minute to ponder his answer and I find myself subconsciously mimicking his motion, desperately wishing it was his fingers trailing down my neck instead of mine. The thought burns in the tips of my cheeks with a deep blush and I have to take a deep calming breath with a small shake of my head to clear the image of his wandering fingers out of my mind. I'm so distracted, I don't even hear his answer to the fire-saving-thing.

“Ma’am?”

The concerened waiter I hadn’t noticed appearing at my side that has interrupted our conversation to ask if we'd like to order a digestif and an amused Mulder are both staring at me, waiting for the answer to the question I seem to have missed staring at my date.

"Uuh.. yes?" I have absolutely no idea what I just agreed to to cover up my embarrassment. Lucky for me, it's just one last refill of our wine-glasses.

Needing something to do with my hands, I fidget with the watch on my left wrist, sliding my thumb back and forth under the band in an attempt at a soothing motion, trying to come up with a question of my own to find out more about what makes him tick.

“What’s something about yourself that you really like?”

————

[ FM ]

The smile that has been stuck on my face ever since catching her staring at me and the flustered attempt at a cover-up fades just a little, that's a pretty hard question to answer. Usually, we're too focused on the things we'd like to change about ourselves. Rubbing a hand across my neck I rack my brain for an answer.

"I'm…huh… I think I'm a pretty decent Dad to Felix. A lot more present than my own Dad while I was growing up. What about you? What do you really like about yourself?"

Judging by the way she scrunches up her nose and twists her hair around her fingers self-consciously, she's having a much harder time coming up with things she likes about herself. I on the other hand could easily fill a notebook or two with the things I like about her.

"I think… I like taking care of people. I don't know, I guess it makes me feel good if the people around me feel good?" I nod in agreement, she certainly makes me feel good and cared for, especially but not only last weekend while I was sick.

“What’s something about yourself that you would change, if you could?”

At my question, she turns her head to look out the window without actually seeing the people passing by, her thumb pressed into her lips thoughtfully. Deciding how honest she wants to be with her answer.

She turns back to me with an unreadable expression on her face, her hands now toying with the salt-shaker, nudging it around on the table. “I wish I was as confident and sure of myself in my personal life as I am at work.”

“What would it take, to change that?” My hand reaches out to cover hers as if on it’s own will, my mind’s busy puzzling out how I could help her with this. Looking down at her salt-shaker friend as if it held all the answers, she finally scoffs with a wry smile and a lift of her shoulder. “More therapy? I don’t know…”

“To be honest, I like the fact that you’re a little softer around the edges outside of school, also more … giggly and fun. But you are a badass at school… and a bit scary.” I add a smile to my comment and a gentle squeeze of her hand before I pull mine back, to convey that it’s meant as a compliment.

“What about you?” Now it's my turn to ponder how honest I really want to be, about how much of my insecurities are safe to reveal on date 3. But she opened up about hers, showing me her vulnerable side, so I decide to do the same. The thought pops into my head that it's very promising that we've carved out a safe space to open up about doubts and fears, hopes and dreams so early on.

“I wish I was more… manly, you know?” She’s barely suppressing a giggle biting her lip in that distracting way of hers, thinking I'm kidding. “What’s so funny?”

My narrowed eyes tell her I’m actually not joking and the grin disappears. She places a kind hand on my arm, sliding it down a few inches to give my biceps a tiny placating squeeze.

“I’m sorry. But I don’t understand, you’re pretty… manly already…?” To emphasize her point, her hand slides over to give my chest an appreciative pat that gives the heart underneath her hand a jolt so it misses a few beats and I swallow around the lump in my throat.

“That’s not what I mean.”

—————

[ DS ]

“Then what do you mean?” With a start, I realize that my hand has been resting on his chest far too long to be passed off as a casual gesture, so I yank it away, hiding my embarrassment in a sip of wine.

He takes his own sip for courage, swirling the liquid around the glass thoughtfully.

"I mean… that I don't exactly match the textbook description of what a man should be like. You know…" He trails off, leaving the textbook definition to my interpretation but I've been with enough toxic masculinity riddled a-holes to know how exactly he doesn't meet it. I've seen him cry, on the phone over Christmas break.

Something tugs on my heart when I imagine the teasing and humiliation he must have had to endure growing up to make this the only thing he'd change about himself. When in reality, it's one of the character traits that I cherish most about him, the way he wears his heart on his sleeve and is not afraid to show his emotions. Which is why I tell him exactly that, that I appreciate that side of him more than he seems to realize and the bashful smile I get in return spreads an affectionate warmth through my chest, from my heart outward. A feeling that increases ten-fold at his shy and reluctant admission of "I haven't told anyone that before…" .

"What’s the best thing someone has ever said to you?" I'm really enjoying the game of 20 questions we're playing right now and I realize I have no idea what time it is, I haven't checked my watch or my phone once, too enthralled by our conversation.

"Whenever a kid slips up and calls me Mom. It shows that they really trust you and feel close enough to you to make that honest mistake." The words are out of my mouth faster than my brain working out the thought that this could get really uncomfortable really quickly should he ask if Felix ever… but he doesn’t, thank God, and I hurry to volley the question back at him.

"Kids are incredibly honest sometimes. It's not always what you want to hear though…" At that, I laugh and nod my agreement, I've been on the receiving end of honest comments such as 'Miss Scully, did you get a haircut? Your hair looks funny today!'.

"Anyway, I've got something along the same lines: One day, during dinner, Felix suddenly looks up at me and says 'Dad. Do you know what I love most about you? That I can talk to you about anything!' That was the best compliment I've ever gotten, to be honest."

I wonder if he knows how much I love the way his face lights up with love and adoration whenever he talks about his son, or how rare their special relationship really is.

"What’s the most mischievous thing you did as a kid? I bet there's a few good stories from your childhood that you would never share with Felix.."

"Oh God, where do I start?"

————

[ FM ]

There's actually a wide array of stories I would never tell my son, my poor mother was gifted with a son who was never short of stupid ideas and mischievous plans, carried out with precision until the very end, when I would either barely get away with it or I'd get into a lot of trouble. Both of which didn't deter me from doing more stupid things.

"Weeeell, let me tell you about the Fox and the Chicken Coop." I recount the story my mom told Felix at Christmas, getting more of that beautiful laugh here and there, and just as I'm getting to the good part, I pause for effect, thinking myself a very clever storyteller.

She leans forward, interested to hear the end of the story, but my train of thought is effectively derailed when my eyes are drawn downwards to her slender fingers sliding her cross back and forth on its chain absent-mindedly.

The words I was about to say wiped off my mind, all I can get out is an embarrassed stutter of “Uuh … I uhm… lost my train of thought, sorry.”

Her head tilts to the side with a curious little smile and she mercifully lets go of her cross that comes to rest oh so innocently between the soft curves revealed by the unusually deep V of her shirt. My collar feels much too tight to breathe and my mouth is so dry, I have to reach out for my glass to take a sip of water and pick up the pieces of my scattered brain.

“The farmer and his wife were looking for…” she adds helpfully, setting down her own water glass gingerly, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop on her lips.

“Aah, yeah… they were looking for the fox that did it, but they had no idea that he was right under their noses, pretending to help them look.”

She laughs at that and leans closer, placing a warm hand on my knee, giving it an almost imperceptible squeeze.

“You’re funny…I like that in a guy!” I’m taking every chance I get to bring out the crinkles around her eyes, and it’s nice the effort is appreciated.

Leaning even closer, the dryness in my mouth is back despite the gulp of water a few minutes ago and once she’s so close I can see each and every freckle across her nose, I close my eyes and tilt my head to the side in tingly anticipation of a kiss.

“Hold still, you got something…” Instead of the brush of her soft lips I was desperately expecting, there’s a gentle brush of a thumb across my cheek instead and when I open my eyes, I see she’s presenting me with an eyelash to blow away.

“Make a wish!,” she says airily, much lighter than I would be able to with my collar still so tight it’s almost strangling me.

There's only one moment I desperately wish for that comes to mind when I blow off the eyelash, the moment when she finally tells me she's ready, not only because she's driving me way too far out of my mind with her lips and eyes and fingers and legs and her everything. Mostly, it's because I can't imagine anything better than to be her last good-night and her first good-day.

————

[ DS ]

The end of our date approaches far too quickly but I do get one last moment of 'What the heck are you doing?' when he excuses himself to go to the bathroom and I can't help myself, I trail his retreating form with my eyes and end up marveling inappropriately long at the way his jeans don't leave much to the imagination.

My breath hitches and a crimson blush creeps onto my cheeks when he turns just before disappearing into the bathroom, catches my glossed-over eyes and the dreamy look on my face from across the room. And then he winks. Oh sweet Jesus.

Signing my name onto the credit card receipt to pay for our meal, still a little mortified, realization slowly dawns on me that the culminations of feelings, emotions and reactions he elicits are it. The Zsa Zsa Zsu. The feeling most people chase after their whole lives, that butterflies-in-your stomach feeling you get when you realize you not only like a person, but you've got to have them.

My mind has finally caught up with my body in the knowledge that I have got to have him, in all ways possible.

Not today. But when the time is right, I'm ready.

Maybe after our movie date we've agreed to, on Saturday.

————

[ Felix ]

Wednesday, after my baseball practice with Principal Skinner, we always do laundry and since I can't work the machines too well, I'm on pre-sorting by colors and folding duty afterwards. I can hardly wait to share what I find in-between the white shirts and towels with Suzie on Thursday, I'm bursting with the news all through the day, wriggling in my seat impatiently for recess to arrive.

I'm out of my seat grabbing Suzie's hand the second the bell rings, tugging her to our office on the stone wall to show her the piece of fabric I've found breathlessly. She just stares at it confused.

"What is that?"

"I think people use it to blow their noses? I don't know, I think I read about it somewhere, they used it before tissues! Look, maybe it's a clue!" There's a gagging sound from my best friend and a disgusted scowl when I shove the handkerchief into her face.

"EW get that away from me, that's gross!"

"It's clean, silly, I got it out of the laundry yesterday. What's interesting is that I've never seen it before. What do you think it means? Do you think it belongs to Squirrel?" We look down at the newfound clue curiously.

"Uhm, Felix?"

"Ya?"

"That's… not a guy's handkerchief. There's daisies on it, see?" My frown of confusion only deepens when she adds "Have you ever considered the fact that the Squirrel guy might actually be a girl?"

"You mean my dad might have a friend who is a girl, just like you and me? Huh… that's kind of neat, isn't it?"

#xf #xf fanfic #msr #felix felicis

[serahsanguine]

Lust, Anger, And Greed NC-17  Easter Exchange

Here is my Easter Exchange Story called Lust, Anger, Greed

This story is for  @suilven19  

I had so much fun writing this. 

prompt;   surprise me! I would love something flirty with so much UST you can hardly breathe culminating. (RST)

tagging @today-in-fic @xfilesfanficexchange

**********************************

Notes; both Part one, and Part Two 

Ao3

**********************************************

Mulder and Scully office; Hoover Building

Things had been heating up between Mulder and Scully as of late, the sexual energy between them was like lighting a match to create a flame. It was only a couple of nights ago when Mulder had taken Scully to play baseball. She hadn't the heart to tell him that she knew how to play; growing up with two brothers would do that to a person. But their closeness is what she enjoyed the most: the way he wrapped his hand around the bat, the way he whispered in her ear. As the minutes passed, she could feel him poking her and it wasn’t any gun. He didn't say anything to her so she didn't say anything back. But if they were both going to admit it to themselves they both enjoyed it a lot.

So here they were, sitting across from each other, staring deeply into each other eyes. Mulder was talking about how they had not had any cases as of late. He looked like a lost puppy when he didn't have anything to do. The pencils in the ceiling were such evidence of this. She loved his puppy eyes, he looked so young and boyish, so cute but sexy. She was completely lost in thought.

“Scully, Earth to Scully.”

“Umm, yes. Sorry, Mulder.”

“So, I was asking if I could take you out to a baseball game sometime?”  He coughed, repeating the question. “You know, there is one this weekend and since you enjoyed playing the game so much... Well I, uhm, I thought we could go together.” He was shy and awkward.

“Yes, Mulder. I would love to.”

“Ok, it’s a date, then.” Scully raised her eyebrow at him “No… I mean, two friends going out together.”

His inner monologue ran away with him again but he was wanting and hoping it to be a date.

Friday; Scully’s Apartment

The week passed by so quickly, and both Mulder and Scully were nervous about tonight's events. Both wanted it to be so much more, but neither said a word. They had both left work early, still with no cases it meant there was no paperwork to fill in.

Scully was sitting in her bedroom deciding what to wear. She wanted to look sexy and casual, wanting him to notice her. Secretly she craved for him to hold her hand, to kiss her for the night, to run away together... but that was never going to happen, was it? If she was truly being honest, she knew that Mulder had never seen her as anything more than a friend. Yes, a best friend, the person he leaned on in times of trouble (well, most of the time at least). But she also knew he would never trust her with his heart, he had had it broken too many times.  

There Scully sat on her double bed with the sun lowering on the horizon, with three different shades of blue jeans, and two different types of black jeans. Tank tops, halterneck tops, polo neck tops, and several different jackets spread over her bed. This would have been so much easier if Mellisa was still here, she always knew the best outfits to impress without it being too out there. She quickly shook the thought out of her head: she wanted tonight to be a happy one.

Mulder’s Apartment; same time.    

Mulder was sitting on his sofa. He was nervous, he already had his outfit picked out: he had had it since he had mentioned the game to Scully on Monday morning. What he had actually been doing was tidying his apartment and refilling his fridge, just in case he did take the chance and invite Scully back with him. Did he have the courage to even invite her over or would he chicken out like he normally did? Was he really willing to take the leap of faith? Did she even replicate his feelings or did it just stay where it lay as best friends?  The night they had spent together not so long ago had stirred up so many feeling for him, holding her in a way he had never held her before, being close to her. And not because she had a crazy sociopath after her or because she was sick or dying. It was because she wanted to be there, she wanted him close. And for once he let his pretence go and enjoyed the time spent with him. Being close to her had sent small jolts through his body, and being so close physically, pushing his crotch into her firm ass sent quite a few impulses to his body and by the end of the night he was... well, let’s just say he could not walk straight and it hurt like hell. Luckily, she didn’t notice and if she did, she didn’t say a word. As soon as he got home he didn’t need any sexual reading material or videos, just his imagination and the smell of her still lingering on his clothes

A Few Hours Later.

Mulder had showered and changed, checking things off his mental checklist before leaving: wallet, tickets, keys and one last spritz of aftershave before shutting and locking the door behind him. He walked down the hallway and into the elevator. Arriving at his car, he looked up at the sky turning from clear blues to oranges, yellows and red. He smiled at the colour blends reminding him of Scully’s hair. Thankfully, it looked like it was going to be a clear night. He stepped into his car, finding some smooth jazz to listen to on the short drive to Scully's. He arrived there around 20 minutes later. Standing outside her door, he looked at his watch. He was half an hour early, he so desperately wanted to see her. He might even go as far as saying he missed her in the few short hours they had spent apart. And so he knocked.

Scully looked through the spy hole on her door and saw him smiling from ear to ear. Mulder looked cute and adorable. She opened the door and took in his full appearance, scanning him up and down. She liked what she saw. There he was, standing in deep blue jeans hanging low on his hips. With a grey t-shirt that fitted him perfectly hugging his abs and biceps and slung over his left arm was her favourite leather jacket.     

“Come in Mulder.” She gestured for him to walk in. “Sit down on the sofa, I’m still getting ready. I wasn’t expecting you this early”

Well, I kinda was, you’re always early when it means something to you, she smiled at the thought of this meaning something more to the both of them as she gently closed the door behind her.

She turned around to see him already sitting on her sofa and about to put the TV on.

“If you want any coffee there is a fresh pot.”

She walked through to her bedroom leaving the door open. Ever since that first case there had come to some unspoken agreement they would have adjoining rooms and never lock the doors she felt comfortable with him in her apartment, but she did wish it would be a more permanent thing.

She stood there in the mirror finishing off her makeup. She went with the smokey eye effect it made her blue eyes pop and some red lipstick. It was different from what she would wear to work, she barely put any foundation on, she knew he liked her freckles and even that little beauty mark near her mouth. She smiled at herself and grabbed her own leather jacket before closing the door.

She walked through to the living room, catching Mulder putting his empty cup in the sink. He heard her walk through and they stood there staring at each other. The gleam in his eye told her that he approved of what she was wearing. In the end, she had decided to wear black jeans that curved her hips just the way she liked it and a deep blue tank top that set off her eyes. Missy always said she looked good in blue with her red hair and pale skin.

“We should get going if you want to avoid heavy traffic”

“Yess… umm… You look beautiful”

“Thank you Mulder, you don’t look so bad yourself”

Wait, he thought, did I actually say that out loud and did she compliment me back?

“Thank you Scully” he smiled at her and tried to hide his blush. He wasn’t used to giving and receiving compliments.

They both grabbed their jackets and walked towards Mulder’s car and made their way to the Robert F. Kennedy Memorial Stadium, also known as RFK Stadium. The sun had gone away already and the moon and stars were shining bright. Scully looked over at her partner as the streets lights illuminated his face, his hands drumming on the steering wheel along to the beat of whatever song was on the radio. She studied him. He looked so carefree, so relaxed; he seemed almost happy. Mulder looked at her and smiled taking a quick glance at where her hand was set on his upper leg. She hadn’t realised she had placed it there.

“Sorry, Mulder I just...”

“Well, if you just wanted to touch me all you had to do was ask.”  He was teasing, they both knew it. But sometimes instead of throwing sexual banter at her, he would actually follow through with it, instead of leaving her sexually frustrated 95 percent of the time.

They soon arrived at their destination. There were already quite a few cars parked and loads more behind them, it looked like tonight’s game would be packed out. They showed their tickets at the entrance and walked through the arena. It was well lit. She looked to the open outfield full of the lush green grass. Mulder showed them to their seats placing his hand on the small of her back. His place, she thought. Always his, even after the tattoo. As they moved in between the seats she noticed his hand had slid slightly from her back to her ass. She hummed silently to herself, she liked the feel of his large hand cupping her ass it was nice.

Thirty minutes passed and Scully had stopped paying attention to the game. Her eyes were more focused on the man sitting beside her. He was truly enjoying the game. Their fingers had interlocked about 10 minutes ago. Her head wanted to question it but her heart won this round as it often did these last days. The feel of his skin against her send little shivers throughout her body, she was happy and content and was enjoying the time spent with him. No monsters, no ex-girlfriends, no illness; just purely the two of them spending time together as ‘friends’. She was starting to get a little chilly so she decided to not so subtly get closer to him, resting her head in the crook of his neck and wrapping one arm around his back. It was warm, and comforting, it was just what she needed. Maybe it would rain sleeping bags tonight. With that thought, she turned back and enjoyed the game.

The game was halfway through, and the pair had decided to grab some refreshments. They were waiting in the queue and Scully noticed how beautiful the waitress was. She was tall, cute, with long brown hair. She was definitely the Mulder type.

Mulder had gotten Scully a diet coke and some crisps. Everything was perfect, except for the way he was being with the waitress, so attentive she might even go as far as to think he was flirting with her. Their hands lingering a little too long, the manner in which he spoke to her a little too close. This was supposed to be her and Mulder on a ‘friend outing’. Who was she kidding? It was a date, she knew it, and he seemed like he wanted it to be. Until a couple of minutes back, that was. She grabbed her drink and walked quickly back to their seats. Mulder tried to place his hand on the small of her back but she shrugged him off.

“Scully is everything alright?” He was concerned for her when they sat back at their seats.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Her answer was too quick and little too sharp and snappy.  

“Are you sure? You walked away quite all of a sudden.” He knew something was the matter, he could always tell and the number one sign was her using her go-to answer ‘I’m Fine’. He sighed in defeat. Things were going so well, he hadn’t a clue what he had done wrong. If only she would let him know and he could either resolve the issue or apologise for it. In this situation and, if he was being honest with himself, most of the time he would do both.

“Mulder I said I’m fine,” she snapped at him and she didn’t care that people heard.

She had honestly thought they were on a date. She was so frustrated and annoyed with him right now she could definitely shoot him again. She didn’t want to be near him or sit this close to him so she shuffled over a bit. He looked at her like he was going to say something but turned his attention toward the game. This was going to be a long night for both of them.

Scully started thinking about all the little things she hated about Mulder. Somehow it all came crashing when she was mad at him. The constant flirting with other people, her mind wandered to Phoebe Green, Detective White, Bambie, half of the secretary pool at the bureau. And last but not least, Diana Fowley. She had managed to forget about her, but now she was again ruining her night. He seemed to drop everything for her, it didn’t matter where he was, when it was or even what it was. She certainly didn’t trust Diana, she always seemed to have a hidden agenda, some ace up her sleeve. And what made matters worse is he was blind to it, so damn blind. What had happened to trust no one? Well, apparently that meant everyone except ex-girlfriends. Her anger now had gone from a small simmer to a full-blown boil. She'd had enough of his antics. She was done, she wanted this game to end, to go home. She knew this had been a risk. Why did she get her hopes up for someone who ran off and lefts her behind?

The game was soon over. She wasn’t paying attention to who won, she actually did not care. Scully was quick to walk out, leaving Mulder seated at the spot, talking to yet another woman. She didn’t care at all to hear the conversation. She decided to go to an ATM and get some money to call a taxi back home. If Mulder decided to catch up, she might say goodbye.  

45 minutes had passed and Mulder was still nowhere to be seen. She had been trying to get a taxi but this was also a difficult task. Great, the night was going swimmingly. There was hardly anyone left now, it was late, and dark, and she had no ride home. Then, suddenly, she saw his tall, dark and handsome figure walking towards her.

“Hey, Scully, where have you been?”

“I have been right here the whole time!” She snarled at him.  

“Well, I’m glad I finally found you.”

Yeah, I bet you are, she thought but stayed silent. Her anger was taking over. If he said anything now it would tip her over the edge and there would be no going back.

They both went through the main entrance and Scully followed him outside the arena to the car. It was dark, there was hardly any lighting and Mulder had parked so far away due to his paranoia.   

“Thank you for coming tonight I really enjoyed spending time with you”

“Yeah. Me all of the other women you spent time with,” Scully said that under her breath when they had finally reached the right side of the arena Scully stayed near a concrete pillar and watched Mulder walk in front of her.

“What was that?” Mulder turned around and looked at her. He was starting to get annoyed now, her attitude was honestly starting to piss him off.

“Nothing, carry on”

Things were getting tenser and the atmosphere was heating up and that was no good thing.

“As I was saying, thank you for coming. I enjoyed the night so much. It certainly beats the last time I came to a baseball game, Diana groaned and whined the whole time.” Mulder could swear Scully physically winced at the mentioning of Diana’s name.

He had to mention her, Scully’s anger was now magnified. Just one night without interference or her name being mentioned and he couldn’t even do that.

“That’s Fantastic. Now I want to go home.” She replied sharply and cold, but it was so much better than what she was thinking.

“Scully, what is your problem?” He stepped closer to her, to stop her turning away, to stop her running off. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do but he knew it was not good.

“I’m Fine.” She tried to look away, she didn’t want to argue. She wanted to go home and forget about this whole experience.

“Scully, you’re anything but fine! Something’s bothering you, just tell me!” He was raising his voice now. He took a few more steps towards her and looked directly in her crystal lighting blue eyes and they only turned that colour when she was really angry.

“NO!” She was full-blown angry now, so angry at him she wanted to punch him, shoot him, slap him! He got her so worked up and didn’t even know when to let go.

“So typical of you not letting anyone in, all too scared to let other people see your emotions.” He was definitely shouting at her now but he was getting closer. And she was shouting right back at him, their eyes still locked.

“Typical of me, when you’re the one being typical. The typical man flirting with every woman with brunette hair, big bust and nice pair of legs” She was infuriated, the words were sliding out of her mouth. She couldn’t stop them, and neither did she want to.

He was even closer to her now, so close they were within kissing distance. They could feel the heat coming off each other’s bodies. Scully stepped back and found her back flat against the pillar, it was cold but refreshing. She was still looking in his hazel eyes full of anger and betrayal. At least she knew she had struck a nerve.

“Now I know how you got that Ice Queen nickname.”

If she wanted to strike a nerve, two could play at the game. He noted her stepping back so he stepped forward.

Things were so tense now one could cut the tension with a knife. The air had turned from cold and stale to hot and humid full of static electricity in a matter of minutes. She went to raise her hand, palm open and flat. She was so close to his face. But he caught her arm, their eyes were locked. He pressed his body against hers.

She had nowhere to go, his grip tightened around her arm. She tried to move and tried to wiggle out of his embrace but he had his height and a pilar surrounding her. In a sudden move, he lent down and their lips locked. She hadn’t realised how turned on he was and now she could feel his hardness against her jeans. His lips so hungry, lustful and greedy went for hers. So wet and plump, the kiss was hot and unforgiving. His hand loosened and he moved down her bicep, finding that bump after the dip of the inner elbow and pinned it, her side hard and rough against the concrete.  

She opened her mouth; his tongue invading hers, hot and heavy, sliding across her teeth, fighting with hers looking for dominance. His hands had moved from her arm and now were all over her, her inner thigh, her stomach, her hair. She was just as rough, her hands and fingers scratching like talons down his back.

She was getting impatient. Without even thinking about it, she grabbed his top and pulled it over his head spinning them around so now his skin was against the pillar. She threw it onto the floor beside them. Her mouth was greedy, kissing its way from his neck down his clavicle and onto his nipple, her hand moving down his abs, down his stomach, roughly feeling her hand against his chest hair. Soon her hand was moving down in between the material of his jeans and grabbing his dick through his cotton boxers. He was big, thick and hard for her. So ready for her she heard him moan as she squeezed firmly. She did this over and over, torching him, making him work for his pleasure.

When he looked like he was about to find that point of ecstasy she stopped removed her hand and worked back up his neck with lips and teeth. He looked at her eyes so full of mischief and desire. She looked up at his eyes slightly begging to be put out of his misery. She moved back down working her hand on his button and zip letting his jeans and boxers sliding down his legs and stopping at his ankles. She grabbed his cock, her hand moving slowly. An intricate science, his whole body imprisoned by her touch.

“I’m going to come” he whispered suddenly. She lowered on him, putting her lips to his tip and swallowed him fully, her tongue flowing from side to side, back and forth moving with her body. His fingers pulling back her hair like torn silk, he ejaculated full hard and strong, disappearing into her. He pulled her up and bending down, his lips clamped onto hers. The white sticky substance coating her lips, they passed it back and forth between them, till it no longer existed. Till they didn’t know who had it like a lost planet in some far away galaxy.

He was so hungry for her he ripped off her top like an animal wanting to be fed, undoing her shoes and jeans, tossing them aside, and there she stood nude in the lamplight except for the brief black cotton lace covering her most private parts. He flipped them around now her stomach bare and flat against the cold concrete. She wrapped her arms around the pillar as best she could. She could feel his breathing behind her, hot air down her back which was starting to sweat and slip on his stomach. He unclasped her bra and ripped her panties. She didn’t want him to see her face because it is blowing up inside, red and furious, she pushed her body back into him, his dick hard and full. He pushed past her opening hot ready and slick with her arousal.

He was slow, rhythmic at first, moving his hands down the front of her body, there was a sharp brief pain…. Brief,  and then a sweet spasm went through her, she felt like she was rising into the air. No more pain, no more anger just the sweetness and incredible power of realisation shattering through her. His lips kissing, biting, her neck. His sweat covered body moulding against her back. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of two bodies entwining and melting into one. The earth could break and blow up around them but at this moment they were one and nothing and no one could stop them. His thrusts were fast now and heavy. She was so close again to ecstasy. She moved one hand down the centre of her legs violently thrashing her fingers back and forth. She could feel the slick of his cock gliding in and out of her. It sent shockwaves throughout her body. Spasming around him; one, two, three thrusts more and he was spasming too inside her, filling her up with his milky substance. He pulled out of her, both missing the loss and heat of the other.

She could feel his juices flow down her legs, sticky but sweet that kind of sex wasn’t about love or tenderness it was about scratching an all to well-known itch, settling scores and relieving tension. She got dressed as best she could and wrapped her jacket around her. She started walking to his car, silently, and he soon followed after getting dressed. Unlocking the car, they both got it, driving in silence to her apartment.

End Of Part One.      

Part Two

Scully entered her apartment, neither she nor Mulder had spoken a word on their way back. She didn’t want to think of tonight and not at least doing such an act in public. She wanted to enjoy the feel of him against her skin, she had wanted it for so long, they had waited for long enough. It was amazing, everything she had imagined it to be. So for tonight she would enjoy the moment and regret it in the morning.

Mulder dropped Scully off at her door and drove in silence to his apartment. He was in shock at what they had done, what she had done to him... What they had done together! He couldn’t think straight. He had wanted it to happen for such a long time, but never in a million years did he think their first time would be so violent, so angry and, oh god, so arousing.

He always got aroused when she was near but even more when she was angry at him or when they were in the midst of an argument. The number of times he had thought about bending her over his desk and making her scream so loud that the whole damn bureau could hear her... Up until tonight, it had been just pure fantasy of her returning the feelings he had. Things were definitely going to change whether it was for better or for worse. They could never go back to just being friends. He stripped his clothes off, throwing them to one side before flicking the TV on and finding some B rated film to fall asleep. There would be no nightmares tonight, just pure content and happiness filling his every thought.    

Mulder woke up at static playing on his TV. The sun was starting to peek in his window, the memories of last night’s flooded his memory. He was happy, happier than he had been in a long time. The pure realization of what had happened suddenly hit him. Would Scully regret it? That was a given. Would she deny it? Most likely. Would she even speak to him again? I hope so, but I doubt it.

His lust had taken over him. He was an unforgiving animal. What was that old saying? ‘Hell Has Three Gates: Lust, Anger and Greed’ and he had unequivocally fit the quota for that. He had displayed all three to Scully, but he couldn’t help it. She didn’t have a clue how wild she made him feel. He was a lovesick teenager around her, he tried pressing his feeling down deep inside, he tried really hard to stay professional at work even with the sudden erections on a daily basis when he was around her. He didn’t want to lose her as a friend but his indecent erotic mind took over. Now he thought about it he needed to know where he stood with her, they had to talk about it. He couldn’t stand the feeling off not knowing. That was it, he was going to shower, change, have coffee and then he was going to ring her.

Scully’s Apartment; Saturday morning

Scully woke up, the room was bright and well lit. She got up and padded to the bathroom.  Turning on the hot water she let it heat up before stepping in the shower. She stood facing her mirror, still quite groggy from not quite waking up fully.

She was sore in places she hadn’t been in a very long time. She looked into the mirror: her hair was unruly and half to one side, her makeup smeared and messy, her skin pale and covered in freckles. She unbuttoned her blue silk pyjamas and let the garment flow down her arms and onto the floor, she looked at her like she did every morning but this time it was different. She had small bruises but thought nothing of it: she must have slept weirdly. She stepped into the bathtub, facing the shower head, letting the burning water hit her face. It felt like little stings washing everything away, making her feel alive again. With her eye closed, she ran her fingers through her hair and she let her mind wander to past events.

That’s when flashes of memory came crashing to her, the reality of what had happened hit her like a ton of bricks. His fingers on her hips, his skin pressed against her back, his lips kissing her neck, how he filled her to the brim. His thrusts uneven and wonderful, his breath so close to her ear, whispering and moaning her name.

Just thinking about it sent waves of desire to her core, she was so turned on thinking about his body and thinking about him. Imagination had become reality. She thrived in it, relishing in the memories. Her index finger slid to her breast, a memory of his hands playing with them, rolling his fingers around her nipple. Then, slowly, she travelled the path from his ghost on her skin, she moved down her stomach the apex of her legs. Finding her clit but not touching it, first moving finger slipping around her vulva placing light feather touches there before finding her clit again and moving in quick suction fast and hard remembering the sweet release he had given her. She was soon spasming, her whole body quaking with the force of her climax.

When Scully finally came back to reality several things hit her at that blissful moment after her orgasm:

She had finally had sex with Mulder. She smiled at that

She really needed to talk to him because, yes, their first time had not been as she had imagined it. She did not exactly regret the act itself, just the placement of said act.

Did he regret the sex? Did he like it? Did he want more? Or had it been just pure and selfless lust and male ego? 

She knew they could never go back to what they were before, but could they move past it and create something beautiful?  Or would they both be left standing alone in the dark? 

She turned off the shower after washing her hair and body. She had just wrapped a towel around her hair and put on her pale yellow fluffy bathrobe when she heard a knock at the door. The “Scully, it’s me,” let her know it was Mulder on the other side. Even before he spoke, she could feel his presence, the connection still not broken. She could always feel when he was close. They could be lost but she could always find him. She didn’t understand how or why but she would forever follow those instincts. She walked through various rooms to open the door for him.

He stood there in awe of the woman in front of him, her face free from makeup. All those little freckles she liked to hide visible for the world to see, including that little mole just above her lip which he loved. Her eyes pure crystal sparkling blue staring up at him. Her yellow bathrobe clinging to her body. Her hair bundled up in a towel with small flickers of crimson red peeking underneath.

Mulder walked through to the living room just like he had done the night before. Things were different now, he could sense it, they both had crossed the line they had been dancing around for years. Even with the tense and awkward atmosphere he still found himself very turned on knowing she was wearing nothing under her bathrobe.

When she walked past him, he could smell her strawberry and kiwi shampoo. He could smell her honey body wash. His senses were igniting, his impulses flaring. If this was what just her smell could do to him, he had no idea how he was going to sit close to her and actually tell her how about his feelings. How was he going to ask her how she felt about him?

“There should be some coffee left, I just need to go get dressed” Mulder looked at her like she was speaking another language but he nodded in response.

Scully walked to her bedroom taking one quick glance back at her partner before shutting her bedroom door to getting dressed. She put her back against the door and leant into it. The feeling of last night rushing back to her. His smell washed over her, and the intense feeling of desire was starting to build deep within her soul. Her senses were on full alert and tingling, the pressure building, and her breathing was rapid and uneven. She needed to calm down. How could she when all she wanted was to feel him, touch him, be under him... Be damn the consequences! She honestly did not know how to act or talk to him, but she needed to know how he felt about her.

It took her 10 minutes to be dressed, she chose some jeans and a rounded neck t-shirt. Walking through her living room, she found Mulder sitting at her kitchen table with a black coffee on his hand, staring into space. Scully could see his face was blank but could also see those little cogs ticking in his brain, so deeply in thought, he didn’t notice her entering the room. What she did realize was he had put a fresh pot of coffee on for her. She smiled pouring herself a cup and sitting on a chair next to him.

“Mulder.” She placed her hand on top of his to get his attention and got a physical electric shock from his skin. She pulled away quickly and he looked at her, literally feeling the static between them.

“We need to talk.” He looked scared and really anxious. Then he looked her in the eyes, she squeezed his hand and their eyes locked: her deep blue and his emerald green. “I’m sorry about last night,” he added. The guilt was written so deep in his pale face, she could see full remorse.

“I’m not.”  Mulder was physically shocked by Scully’s statement. Could this be true? Or is my mind playing tricks on me?  “I enjoyed it,” Scully went shy and sheepish, her cheeks as red as a lobster but still holding his hand.

Where is she going with this?  He said nothing but looked at her blankly, listening to her every word.

“I don’t know what to make of last night, but I wouldn’t mind trying again,” she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Her heart was beating a hundred miles an hour. Her palms were clammy. She wanted this so badly but couldn’t tell him how much.  

Ever the prolific, he thought. She spoke clearly like she was discussing some case with him back at the office. How would I say yes without it sounding too forward? How can I say that I have spent every waking moment for the past seven years thinking about her? About kissing her, loving her, being beside her when I wake up from a nightmare. How I want to feel the silk of her skin against mine, to have her smell be the first thing I sense every morning. The smile on her face, the first thing I want to see when I wake up. He was lost for words, staring at her, his mouth open slightly.

His mouth is open and he’s not speaking, he’s staring at me like I am an alien. I knew I should not have done this. He doesn't want me, he just sees us as friends. What was I thinking?  The room was silent as she was waiting for a reply. She unconsciously licked her lips, a small habit she had picked up in her teenage years.    

The way she licks her lips, her little tongue sweeping across those beautiful lips... She wants to take it further. I want to take it further. So, what’s stopping us?

Mulder suddenly leant over, placing his lips softly over hers. He couldn’t say the actual word, so he showed her with one simple kiss and it spoke a thousand words. It was full of love, adoration, trust of body and soul. He wanted to show her how much she meant to him in life and in the universe.

Scully opened her mouth and let his tongue slide against hers, stroking, caressing. The taste of her is part hunger, that he welcomes, but the other part, the torment... He gives her one last look to make sure he is doing the right thing. Her eyes say yes and he deepens the kiss. With a swift motion, he lifts her from her chair and brings her to his lap, his hand pressing beneath her top, finding warm, soft skin. His fingers splay over her rib cage, she flinches but soon relaxes to his touch. His lips latch to hers again, his tongue stroking, taking, demanding, and she rewards him by giving him no fear, but rather a soft moan, and a whisper of “Mulder” when he nips her lip. He reaches down and pulls her top over her head, tossing it away. And she is not shy, timid or scared now. She tugs his shirt up and throws it away with hers. Unhooking her black lace bra, he drags it down her arms, his gaze raking over her high full breasts and pebbled pink nipples. In a minute their gazes collide, her eyes turned to deep blue so full of lust and hunger. His eyes are all deepest amber. His hand flattening over her back finding the tattoo. Her naked breast against his bare skin feels so good, smooth and silky against his rough and ready.

She placed small kisses along his clavicle: biting, nipping, suckling. She could feel him squirm underneath her and felt his desire for her rising up. Instinctively, she ground against his lap, eliciting him to moan her name which only enhanced her thrill and her excitement. She looked up at him and with a mischievous smile, she raked her nails down his chest, watching his muscles twitch under her touches. She went to do it again but he shook his head. Standing up, she wrapped her legs around his waist, he walked her over to her sofa placing her underneath him slowly grinding his pelvis into hers. She moaned and her breath hitched when his mouth found the crook of her neck, working his lips down her torso and towards her breasts. He took a nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue over and round it. He gently bit her nipple and her back arched in pleasure. He stopped sucking, working his way to her other breast. His hand snaked to the button of her jeans popping it open and then sliding them down her legs.

He stopped for a second to look at her, her skin is so beautiful and pale, her smell sweet but addictive. Her breasts so full, so perfect. Her stomach flat but muscled, and her little belly ring hanging from her belly button. Her legs short but could definitely put you on your ass if she kicked you. And there she lay in the shimmering sunlight coming from the curtains almost naked, just wearing those little lace material she called panties. He smiled at her before hooking his fingers underneath the hem and gliding them down her legs. Kissing his way up the inside of her thighs, he finally found her Labia. He licked his way around her clit but not yet touching it. He lapped her up like a baby cat tasting milk for the first time. She tasted sweet like honey and smells divine, he was easily addicted to both. She was humming now like a little hummingbird in the wild. He finally placed his tongue against her clit, flicking and twirling. She was quivering, so so close to her climax. He found her opening and let his finger and tongue do the magic. It didn’t take long for her to start screaming his name loud and hard. He was so gentle with her, making it last, making sure she knew how much he needed her, and how he had longed for this moment.

He watched her come back down to Earth, her face full of bliss, a smile that could light up the world, her eyes were but fluttering. Her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Her legs were twitching along with her stomach. But when she opened her blue eyes, they were like orbs pulling him in to see the far reaches of her soul. She looked so happy.

Mulder stood up quickly, getting rid of the extra clothes he had on. He was full and swollen thick and hot clear liquid had sprung at his tip. She took a look, admiring his beauty, and she licked her lips with anticipation for what was about to happen.

He moved and laid himself on top of her, placing himself in between her legs. He guided himself into her wet folds and she hugged like a bear. He fit inside her good, filling her up. She felt full and complete there. They were very like yin and yang, soulmates through time. He looked at her and she looked straight back: nothing could separate them.

No words were spoken, they didn't need to be. He started rocking his hips back and forth slowly, lovingly, softly; the love showing and exploding, lighting the room. They soon found their rhythm, both savouring the moment; they really didn't want it to end. They went a little faster and a little harder. His head rested in the crook of her neck, his breath creating moisture mixing with her dripping wet skin. Her nails clinging, dragging against his back. The air smelt of sex the sound of skin against skin in time and entwined with the hearts. She soon hit her peak again, the height of euphoria, that moment of ecstasy. Whispers and moans of his name sent him into that moment right along with her. They stayed there for what seemed like a lifetime. He didn't want to crush her but she didn't mind. He rolled to the side and she placed her head on his chest, his heart like a lullaby lulling her to sleep. Before she closed her eyes for good she needed to whisper.

“I love you.”

“I know, I love you too.”

With the words said, her eyes closed and she slept. He buried his nose into her hair and let her warmth Passover him, the room filled with her steady breathing and soon he joined her in her sleep.

The end  

#xfeaster2019 #fan fiction #The X-Files #fanfiction #agent fox mulder #Fox Mulder #Fox Mulder and Dana Scully #agent dana scully #Dana Scully #Fox and Dana

[baronessblixen]

Hi ! Today is my birthday, and i'm in self isolation :/ I really love your fics. Could you write a birthday fic ? Maybe UST to RST ?

Happy birthday, anon! Sorry you have to spend it in self-isolation. I hope you will have a lovely day anyway ❤ I have written several birthday fics in the past and I’ll link them here: Birthday Surprises, You did this for me?, Birthday Cake

Tagging @today-in-fic

Here’s a ficlet for you! 

The knock on his door startles Mulder out of his lazy stupor. A glance at his watch tells him it’s 12.01 a.m. He rubs his eyes as he makes his way over to the door, wondering if his TV was on too loud again. Last week, Mrs. Heller took him aside and let him know in no uncertain terms that if she had to listen to another woman’s fake orgasm through the wall, she would call the police.

“I will turn the TV down, I promise,” he says as he opens the door, but is surprised to see his partner standing there instead of his neighbor. “Scully? Is everything okay?”

“Happy birthday,” she says, a soft, shy smile on her lips. She holds out her hands, presenting him with a pink cupcake liner full of sunflower seeds and a crooked birthday candle.

“It’s not my-“

“It’s after midnight,” Scully says, lifting an eyebrow. The sight, as well as her sweet gesture, makes him smile.

“Come on in.” Mulder touches her back to lead her inside his apartment. “You could have waited until morning, you know. What if I’d been asleep?”

She throws him a look as she takes off her shoes. So she’s planning on staying. He watches her, trying to catch up with her mindset. Part of him thinks he must be dreaming.

“I know you, Mulder,” she replies easily and walks into the living room. He sees her glance at his TV screen, at the now paused sex scene. She just chuckles and sits down on his couch. “Is that another one those videos that aren’t yours? I wonder who put it in your VCR. Must be a conspiracy.”

“Very funny,” he mumbles, quickly turning it off. She’s still smiling when he sits down next to her. “So, Scully, why exactly are you here?”

“It’s your birthday.” She points at the sunflower seeds and the candle.

“It would have still been my birthday eight hours from now.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admits after a moment. “I was thinking of something you said to me once.” She avoids his eyes.

“I say so many things, Scully,” he nudges.

“You do,” she says, looking at him. “But this was about your birthday. You said that after your sister was gone… that you stayed awake all night, thinking that if you didn’t sleep, your birthday wouldn’t happen and you wouldn’t be reminded that she wasn’t there.”

He stares at the cupcake liner again. After Samantha, he stopped celebrating his birthday. It wasn’t always a choice; the first year after his sister’s disappearance, his parents forgot. After that, he decided it didn’t matter anymore. His birthday was just another day, another reminder that Samantha was no longer with them.

“I wanted you to have a happy memory.” Her voice is so soft that Mulder barely catches it.

“Thank you, Scully,” he whispers and then reaches for her, hugging her tightly and burrowing his face in her neck. She’s cool there, the cold, crisp autumn air still clinging to her. He breathes in deep until he just smells her underneath.

“I have an actual gift for you,” she says, running her fingers through his hair. “It hasn’t arrived yet. I only ordered it a few days ago.”

This is enough of a gift for him, he thinks. What else does he need?

“Don’t need anything else.” His words disappear into her skin.

“Oh, you need this,” she says with a chuckle.

“What is it?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. Why don’t you blow out your candle and make a wish?”

Reluctantly, he untangles himself from her. Her cheeks are red, look like they’ve been pinched. They have nothing on her half opened lips, though, beckoning to him.

“Mulder?” she says, drawing his attention away from her mouth. Well, she tries to, anyway. “Make a wish.”

There’s only one thing he wants tonight. He feels greedy for wanting it, for even thinking it, but he closes his eyes and blows out the candle.

“I hope it comes true,” Scully says and he turns to her.

“I hope so, too.” He takes her hand into his. “It’s my birthday, right?” She nods. “So if my wish were this…” Slowly, to give her enough time to stop him, to complain, he leans closer to her. She doesn’t move away. Instead, she moves towards him, meeting him halfway. Her lips against his feel like a promise. He feels like a new man; happy birthday, indeed.

“Was this your wish?” Scully murmurs against his mouth.

“Part of it,” he says, teasing her bottom lip. “It was a little less PG than this.”

“Hmm, then maybe we should move this party elsewhere. I know you have a bedroom, Mulder.”

“I do.” He kisses her again, needing to taste more of her. He’s never been patient and with her so close to him, with him being allowed to do this, no one can stop him. “But we have to be quiet,” he says, thinking of Mrs. Heller. The memory of his 70-year-old neighbor makes him cringe and his cock shrivel in fear.

“Why?” Scully, to his greatest joy, is as impatient as he is, her hand wandering under his shirt, brushing the waistband of his jeans and making him shiver.

“My neighbor,” he says in between kisses, trying to steer them towards his bedroom, “said if she hears another fake orgasm through my wall, she will call the police.”

“Oh Mulder,” Scully says, laughing against him. “I doubt anything she'll hear tonight will be fake.”

“Let’s go celebrate my birthday.”

They aren’t quiet.

#i wrote this #i can't write rst #i will try again some day #hope you like it anyway anon! #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic #Anonymous

[baronessblixen]

Day 19: holiday baking

Set in between “Hungry” and “Millennium”. Some playful UST. Tagging @today-in-fic

Messy

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought this was Dana Scully's apartment." Mulder, standing in front of her door, is grinning from ear to ear and obviously finding himself very funny. "Do you know where I can find her?" 

"Why are you here, Mulder?" With her flying out to San Diego tomorrow morning, it can’t be for a case. They said goodbye yesterday at the office and part of her has been expecting a call from him all day. Now here he is in front of her door, like a present she didn't ask for. A welcome one, though.

"I forgot to give you your Christmas present."

"I thought we said no presents this year." They say it every year and yet they end up exchanging gifts every time. Mulder shrugs and smiles sheepishly. "Come on in, then."

"It smells good in here," he says, taking off his coat. He's wearing her favorite grey t-shirt and for a moment the sight throws her off.

"Cookies," she says, looking at him. "I'm making cookies for my family."

"Is that why you're wearing that... thing?"

"It's an apron."

"I can see that but..."

"It was my grandmother's," Scully says defensively. The red and green color scheme is antiquated. Even as children, she and Melissa made fun of Granny's old apron. When she helped her mother declutter her house a while back, she felt a pang of nostalgia seeing it. She spent many hours in the kitchen with her grandmother while she cooked and baked. The familiar scent is long gone, but the memories are woven in. Scully doesn't cook often, and bakes even less, but whenever she does, she wears her grandmother's apron.

"These look good, Scully." He grabs one of the finished cookies and stuffs it into his mouth, his eyes fixated on her. "They taste good too." She slaps his hand away as he reaches for another one. His pout melts her heart. 

"They're for my family."

"Where are the ones for your favorite partner slash friend?"

"Who says you're my favorite?" She winks at him and Mulder puts his hand on his chest in mock pain.

"I'm wounded, Scully."

"Help me make a few more and I'll share. What do you say?" He looks at her and the way he licks his lip makes her want to forget about cookies altogether. 

"Do you have another apron?"

She should have known that Mulder would be messy in the kitchen. She didn't have another apron for him and now his shirt, the one she loves so much, is decorated with flour, butter, and dough. Mulder doesn't seem to care. He sways in rhythm with the Christmas music, cutting out cookies with precision.

"Hey, am I the only one working here?" he asks when he catches her watching him. She blushes and presses the cookie-cutter she's been holding into the dough.

"I was distracted," she admits.

"By good how I am at this?"

"By how messy you are." Mulder looks down at his t-shirt and shrugs.

"I could take it off." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "If it's so distracting." Maybe it's the season. Maybe it's the fact that they've been growing closer lately. There are a lot of maybe's and she doesn't want to add another what-if to the equation.

"You probably should." His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and then he slips the shirt over his head and throws it into a corner.

"Better?" She stares at his chest - his naked chest - and her mouth is dry. Mulder, on the other hand, is grinning proudly. "You know, Scully," he begins and is it just her or did his voice drop a few octaves? "I feel rather... naked. Turnabout is fair play."

"Well, Mulder, I’m sorry but unlike you, I'm not messy."

"Are you sure?" he asks and before she knows what's happening, he's dabbed some dough on her shirt, right by her breast. "I think you should take off your shirt now."

"Hmm." She glances at him, at his too sure expression. She dips her fingers into the dough and touches his chest, fingerpainting with it.

"Turnabout is fair play," she says with a shrug, repeating his own words. Her hand is still on his chest. His skin is so warm, seems to be burning her.

"If that's how you want to do it." She expects more dough from him but Mulder has other ideas. He grabs a handful of flour and sprinkles it over her. She opens her mouth to protest and inhales the flour, coughing. 

"Scully, are you all right?" He gently pats her back. The flour is everywhere. She can taste it, feels like she's breathing it. She wants to assure him that she's fine but the words won't come.

"Shit, Scully, I-" he doesn't get to finish because she reaches behind her, grabs the first thing she finds and throws it at Mulder's face. She catches her breath, finally, and wipes some flour off her face. When she looks at him, she realizes what exactly she just threw at him.

Mulder is covered in colorful sprinkles. Some cling to his cheek, some to his lips. Most of them are in his hair and on his chest. He's a Mulder rainbow. She puts her hand over her mouth but her cough doesn’t mask her amusement. 

"How do I look?" he asks, looking down at himself.

Her laughter turns into a hiccup. He looks good enough to eat, she thinks.

“Oh, do I?” Oh no, she said it out loud, Mulder’s grin is back. He touches his face and there’s rainbow sprinkle on his finger. He stares at it a moment before he offers it to Scully. Well, she started this. Sort of. She’s not going to give him the satisfaction of giving up. Instead, she takes his finger in between her lips, sucks it into her mouth, and watches him. When he starts squirming, she sucks harder, taking hold of his hand and making it impossible for him to get away.

“Fuck, Scully, this is not... what I... meant.” She releases his finger but keeps her eyes on him. He’s staring back at her, his eyes hungry. She wonders if her eyes do, too. She feels hungry. 

“What about me?” she asks. “How do I look?”

“Perfect,” he answers simply. “You look perfect. I didn’t know flour could be so... sexy.” 

“Want to know what it tastes like?” 

“Oh yeah.” But Mulder has never been satisfied with only a taste. No, he grabs her and draws her close, pressing his lips against hers. She tastes the flour and the cookie dough, sprinkles and Mulder. So much Mulder. She thinks she can taste the future. 

#advent calendar #this got long #they were supposed to have sex #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic