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You wrote something set after paper clip which was one of my fave ever msr cuddle fics. Could you please write them cuddling in another scenario? I love them platonically sleeping together and you tap into the emotions so well ❤️
Sorry it took me so long to answer this one. Here’s a cuddle fic set in season 2. Hope you enjoy.
Her first thought is that she’s crazy, paranoid like herpartner. Lack of sleep Dana, she assures herself nipping at the glass of watershe just poured herself. Cars park in front of your building all the time, shecontinues her internal monologue. This only bothers you because it’s 2 am andyou can’t sleep. She nods to herself, but the feeling gnaws at her steadily.
Her lights are off so she moves to the window, peeks outside. The car acrossthe street is still there, unmoving but slightly askew as if ready to flee atany given moment. There’s a shadow inside, moving slowly, and Scully’s heartbeatpicks up. This is not real, she tells herself taking a deep breath. That’s whather therapist keeps telling her: breathe in deeply, breathe out, repeat. Scullyreiterates these words, mouths them silently, breathes in between.
She willsherself to relax and thinks of Mulder. Her partner, who’s been nothing butforthcoming since she’s come back from… from whatever she’s come back from. Hermother refers to it as the time Dana went missing. As if it were a cute storyyou tell your children and grandchildren. Mulder calls it an abduction, hisvoice harsh when he says it, breaking guiltily on the last syllable. Unless heis looking at her. Scully doesn’t want him to see her like that, like avulnerable bird out in the cold that needs to be taken inside, needs to betaken care of. But right now, she wants to call him anyway, tell him all aboutthe car outside. Most of all she wants him to reassure her that she’s safe,that this is a figment of her overactive imagination. Not real.
Her handreaches out to grab the phone. But she can’t call him. He’ll come over and thenhe’ll glance at her, maybe not even say a word, and he’ll feel like he needs toprotect her. No. She takes the phone with her, her gun too, and puts them onthe nightstand. Just in case, she tells herself, before she tries, and fails,to fall asleep.
So I did nothing at all for fictober, but I heard the prompt for the last day ("I still love you"), and I already had Scrivener open and here we are.
tagging @today-in-fic
Revival msr angstfluff with a happy ending, because if this isn't the perfect prompt for them, then what is?
She feels him watching her across the desk, his fingers playing with a pencil that dropped into his lap; it took him no time at all to decorate their office ceiling again once they’d reclaimed this familiar space. His silence is intense, it fills the room, leaving just enough space for the rustling of paper as she flips through pages in the file.
“How did your date go?”
His words startle her. “What?”
When she looks up, his gaze is too steady, his posture too loose to be natural. “Last night,” he says. “Your date.”
“How did you know?” They’re not the right words, this was never meant to be a secret, never meant to make him sad.
“I was going to get pizza. At… our usual place.”
“Ah.” He doesn’t need to say it. She can see the sorrow in his eyes. “I didn’t see you.”
“I left. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
She nods. She didn’t want him to see. Another man touching her hand across a table where they used to sit, thinking their love would last forever. “It was…” She trails off. She shrugs. “It was just dinner. He’s an old coworker. From the hospital.”
“Are you gonna see him again?” Another question hangs unspoken between them: Did you see him before?
“No,” she says. “I’m not.”
“Why not?”
Because, she thinks, he smiled at me and I felt nothing. “I don’t know.” Because, she thinks, my name sounded wrong in his voice. Because he was in your seat and I didn’t like it. “He asked me out when we worked together. I said no. Then we ran into each other at the grocery store, and…”
“You said yes.”
“Yeah. But the spark just wasn’t there.”
“What made you change your mind? When he asked again?”
“Well, he wasn’t my coworker anymore.” And because I feel more lonely now than ever, more lonely now that you’re back in my life, because you’re right here and still not mine, she doesn’t say.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is sincere. “That it didn’t work out.”
She isn’t sure if he means her date. “Me too.”
“I need coffee. Do you want me to bring you anything?”
No invitation to come with him. She doesn’t ask. “I’m fine, thank you.”
He puts his pencil down. He doesn’t look at her as he grabs his jacket and leaves. The door clicks shut behind him and she stares at his empty desk chair that still holds his warmth and she wants to curl up in it and breathe the air that touched his body.
“I’m not going to see him again,” she says out loud to the empty space in front of her, “because I still love you.”
She wonders why she feels like she owes it to him to move on. He worked hard on getting better. So did she. They were supposed to do it for each other. But she never told him that. She wonders.
If she knows she’d wait forever, if she knows he’d do the same, then what are they waiting for?
They’ve been here before. Waiting. She doesn’t want it to take seven years again. But she never told him that either.
**
Everything between them is forever. Everything has always been forever. Forever is a long time. She doesn’t want it to include the waiting.
They have their work and she smiles at him across small town police stations, laughs with him in the car, chats across cheap Formica table tops in greasy diners. He puts his hand on the small of her back and she leans into it. She argues her point until he argues back, his eyes alight with the old fire that finally flares hot again.
She cries into his shirt when her mother dies, links their fingers on a walk behind his house, falls asleep on his couch with him right next to her.
She comes to his motel room late at night, shaken by their case, asks him to hold her. “What’s gonna happen? When we’re old? Are we gonna spend time together?” “I’ll always be around Scully.” “What if you meet someone?” He tightens his hold on her and she doesn’t need his words. His body is hot and familiar on top of hers, the rhythm of his breath and the way he moves inside her all the answer she needs, and she hopes, she hopes.
A date night that ends with her house in ashes, his hand in hers as they watch the ruins; she’s happier than she’s been in a long time. “Come home with me,” he says. She has nowhere else to go. Not because her house blew up. Home isn’t where you keep your things, and she never kept many in this cold place anyway. She chooses warmth.
“I believe in you,” he tells her. “Are we together?” she asks. “I am standing right here and I am listening,” he says. And she whispers in his ear. Words that are for him and him alone. The waiting will not last forever. “I’d like to do it together,” she tells him, and he lights a candle for her prayer. She doesn’t owe it to him to move on. He doesn’t owe it to her. They move on together.
**
Their house. Their home. Their bed. His skin against hers, his lips, his fingers, his promises.
“You were right to leave,” he says.
“I was right to come back,” she says.
“You were lonely before you left.”
“You were lonely while I was gone.”
He tightens his embrace, places a kiss in her hair. “So much loneliness.”
She lifts her head and meets his eyes. “Not anymore.”
Lonely with each other, lonely without each other—this time, they know the stakes. They know themselves a little better. They’ve always known each other.
“I love you,” he says.
She feels it in her bones, she always has. “I love you too.” Not still. There is no still. No threat of an ending. This is now, this will always have been, and they will take it with them wherever they go next.
They’ll be okay. There’s no “forever easy.” But there’s them. That’s good enough.
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Fictober Day 31: When You Say The Words (I still love you)
Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober25
A short all things post-ep
~
How ridiculous, she thinks, as she drives away from Mulder’s apartment in the dawn, sneaking away as if she’s regretting what they did last night. She’s on autopilot, her brain repeating last night like a broken record. Daniel. Mulder. The couch. Touching. Kissing. Skin on skin. Fragments flicker before her mind’s eye, making it difficult to focus on anything else. What will Mulder think when he wakes up and finds her gone, only the scent of her left on his bedding?
She stops at a red light, staring straight ahead. I still love you - that’s what Daniel had said. That’s what he’d used to convince her to come back to him. Words that made her run - not just from him, but from her own feelings. She doesn’t love Daniel anymore. Maybe she never did. Just a foolish crush. That’s what Melissa had said back then. Oh, Melissa. How she misses her sister. If only she could talk to her now, ask for her advice. Though she knows what her sister would say. She knows what her sister would think about her leaving Mulder’s apartment without even a note.
The light turns green, and she steps on the gas. Thoughts of Daniel fade and are replaced by thoughts of Mulder. Of his strong, warm hands on her. His deep chuckle when she begged him to touch her. Her skin burns with the phantom memory of his fingers. Scully signals and realizes she’s doing it all wrong. She knew it the moment Daniel said he still loved her. Because her first thought had been that she’d never told Mulder how she feels. It had always been Mulder saying the words, never her. Even now, after consummating their relationship, she still hasn’t told him. No, instead she slipped out of his arms and out of his apartment.
She stops at a coffee shop and picks up two coffees and a Danish, feeling adventurous, invigorated. Back in the car, she turns around and drives back the way she came. She’s done running away.
Scully uses her key to let herself into the apartment. It’s still quiet, still dark inside. She puts the coffees and the Danish on the table, kicks off her heels, and gently pushes the half-open bedroom door. Mulder’s head comes up, his hair a mess, a hesitant smile on his face.
“I thought you’d gone home,” he says, voice heavy with sleep.
“I wanted to,” she says, and his smile falters. “I changed my mind. I got us coffee and a Danish.”
“Why?”
“It’s morning. I thought we could use some extra energy.” She smiles at him.
“I mean, why did you leave? Why did you come back?” She doesn’t think. Just this once, she wants her emotions to take the wheel. She takes off her blazer and crawls back into bed with him. He’s warm and safe; he’s perfect.
“I don’t know why I left,” she says quietly. “Fear, I think. But I know why I came back.”
“Are you going to share your findings with me, Agent Scully?”
“I love you,” she says with a small shrug. His face brightens, and she wonders why she ever thought this would be difficult. It’s the easiest thing in the world.
“Did Mom tell you what he did to the nurse’s station?” Melissa softens, leans in. “He trashed it, Dana. Security had to drag him out. Who’s doing that for their colleague? He loves you.” She takes her sister’s hand. “And if it were me, I’d let him.”
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the concept of mulder, an atheist, reverently kissing scully on the forehead and then on both sides of her face in a manner that depicts the sign of the cross is just a little too insane for me.
on season three of the x files and I truly cannot figure out what happens to mulder and scully through fanfics and gifsets. they tenderly embrace in bed. they never get together. they get married. they get divorced. they never even kiss. they have sex in season seven. what is secret sex? scully can’t have kids. she has his baby. it’s not confirmed to be his. there’s two different children referenced at various points. three? mulder disappears? she gets pregnant again and she’s like 50. they get together again. or they never did in the first place. but they’re married. what the hell do bees have to do with this
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Mulder’s Apartment. The Goodbye We Never Got to Say.
Does anyone else feel like we never got a proper goodbye to Mulder’s apartment? I feel that, in a lot of ways, his apartment was just as iconic to the show as the X-Files basement office.
Yet they ditched it without so much as a cursory glance, or a wistful note played of Mark Snow’s score. We were there - and then we weren’t. And now it’s gone forever.
The last time we see Mulder (and Scully) in his apartment, is in season 8′s Three Words.
But it’s not actually the last time we see the apartment itself. The last time is even sadder - because there’s no Mulder or Scully- it’s through Agent Doggett’s eyes that we say our final farewell to this iconic location. He walks into Mulder’s apartment to find it empty in the season 9 premiere Nothing Important Happened Today.
Mulder’s belongings all gone - now moved to Scully’s apartment.
I really think we deserved a scene where Mulder and Scully are packing away his things and they talk about all the times they had together in the apartment - Mulder musing about moving forward with his life - and leaving the past behind. Them smiling at each other as they walk out of the empty apartment… and the door closes.
Did I just describe the series finale of Friends, there? I think I might have.
Anyway!
As a homage to apartment #42, 2630 Hegal Place Alexandria, VA 23242, here’s a scrapbook of it’s greatest hits from season 1 - 9 and Fight the Future. I will be posting at least 1 screecap of EVERY episode the apartment appeared in.
So yeah, this is gonna be long. VERY LONG! You have been warned!
stormborns
romaincrisis
pixelskylines
kianamaiart
