Mrs. Dana Scully

"Come here, dammit," he chuckles as you wriggle in his arms as he tries to get you more firmly situated against him.

His skin is soft and warm around you, his scent and presence permeating and embracing your senses. You are nestled in his lap, his back resting against the headboard and his big palms cupping your ass. He's smiling at you -- no, grinning -- as he sits, thick cock deep inside you as he lazily pulses just enough to keep the pleasure radiating in your pelvis.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not making this easy for you?" You tease gently, running your hands over those broad shoulders. He chuckles and slides his hands from your rear to your hips. You love the feel of his touch on your waist; it makes you feel small and seen.

"Loving you IS easy, Scully," he murmurs, leaning forward and tracing his nose across your clavicle. You feel your nipples harden with the whisper soft touch, feel the ache in your clit. He's being so sweet and playful tonight and while you usually prefer when he's being rough and soulful, this gentle sex is perfect for reminding you why you love him.

Not that you NEED reminding.

"I'm a stubborn, headstrong handful, Mulder," you joke, "No one has ever claimed that loving me was easy."

"All right so you're a bit of a spitfire," he mumbles against the curve of your right breast, his hand coming up to cup the other, "but loving you is still the easiest, most natural thing I've ever done."

Your cheeks hurt from smiling. You clasp his face in your palms, kiss his forehead, bite at his lobe when he flexes inside you again. You might come like this. You stick your tongue in his ear and he yelps and laughs, met with a giggle of your own.

"Little spitfire," he jokes, and you kiss him. His big, warm hands come up and cradle your breasts again, his thumbs brushing your nipples as he thrusts lazily into you. You moan into his mouth and come softly, falling against his chest with your muscles quivering against him.

"God..." you breathe.

"Drive Thru" from the Ka(M)a/(S)utra series.

Allowing herself to love and to be loved by Fox Mulder.

you ANGEL, thank you for the prompt and the love. Let’s pretend that everything was on the up and up after season 8 and none of the runaway silliness of season 9 happened. Only happy endings for my FBI agents and their son. I may try an honest long-form drabble style for this, so bear with me.

“Goodnight, William. Go to sleep for mommy, please.”

It’s been nearly forty-five minutes of wrangling the boy into bed, fighting over which toy to take to bed, which story to hear, how to brush his teeth, why he can’t sleep on the couch in the living room. Mommy and Daddy are tired. Your nightlight is just as bright as it was last night, honey. It’s time for bed.

It was time for everyone’s bed about an hour ago.

Mulder and Scully had both faced long workdays as of late, and with William at four months shy of two years old, they’d been testing out a new preschool near the apartment in Georgetown. It meant that he’d picked up on some new habits, courtesy of his more rambunctious peers. “No” had become a new favorite retort. He’d spilled his food across the table with much too much premeditation to be an accident, not to mention he squealed in delight with every new mess he made. And now, the icing on the cake, he’d begun refusing to go to bed when asked.

A giggle betrays William’s true intentions as he bids his mother goodnight.

"Night night, mama.”

Scully flicks the light switch off and lets the swirling glow of his starlight projector nightlight fill the room. Closing the door behind her, Scully heaves a sigh and trudges into the bedroom.

Mulder has a mouthful of toothpaste, and he manages to speak around it before spitting.

"B’by go dwm?”

Scully laughs and crawls onto her side of the bed.

“Yes, Stallone, the baby went down just fine. Finally.”

Mulder cleans his face and shuts the bathroom light off, padding around to the other side of the bed, sitting and pressing a kiss to Scully’s cheek. It earns him a smile as the redhead settles back on her pillows, eyes closing softly. Mulder picks up his book from his end table and begins to turn the pages, bookmark falling to his bare chest. Scully breaks the silence gently.

“Did you pick up your dry cleaning today?”

“No, there was a detour for construction and I didn’t feel like going to the trouble.”

“Give me the tag, I’ll pick it up tomorrow. I’ve got to pick up my mom's ring from the jeweler anyway. It was being cleaned.”

“Alright. I’m working a little later tomorrow, I’m having the brakes checked on my car in the morning.”

“Oh, I need to-”

A distinct thud sounds from the room down the hall, and Scully sits up.

“What was that?”

She gets up and moves to the hall. From William’s bedroom, she can hear him laughing, whispering to himself. She swings the door open, much to William’s delight, and he jumps up from his newly made pile of toys and tries to run away from her. Scooping him into her arms, Scully sighs.

“William. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you’re in big trouble- got it?”

William simply laughs and wriggles around as Scully lays him down to sleep again. Scully turns to leave again.

“Go to sleep, please, Will.”

Scully goes back to her side of the bed as Mulder chuckles to himself.

“He’s too clever,” Mulder chortles.

Scully is quick to fire back. “He’s your son.”

Silence settles again, broken only by the turning of Mulder’s pages when the thud sounds from William’s bedroom again.

“Mulder.”

“I got him.”

Mulder rises from the bed, book face down on the duvet. He walks to William’s door and snaps it open with a sharp hey! Scully can hear the toddler’s laughs, followed by Mulder’s firm come on now buddy. It’s time for bed. No more games.

The door closed, Mulder settles back in bed with his book once more, laughing softly. He gives Scully a sideways glance.

“He’s got my height, I knew that crib wasn’t going to last.”

“I suppose we’ll need to look at some toddler beds, but that won’t stop him from getting out in the middle of the night.”

“He’ll get tired eventually.”

The thud sounds again, and as Mulder goes to stand, Scully waves him off.

“Wait, wait. I want to see what he does.”

Their bedroom door is still slightly ajar, and through the darkness of the hallway, Scully watches as William’s doorknob turns, unlatches, and squeaks open. The toddler steps out, nothing but a little t-shirt and his diaper on, but his eyes mischievous as ever. He toddles down the hall, not knowing his mother is watching closely.

She steps to the door, hands on her hips.

“William James Scully, what did I just tell you?”

The little boy jumps and spins around to face his mother, bottom lip instantly quivering. He bursts into tears, melting into a tantrum on the floor.

Scully facepalms, muttering to herself. “Oh, Christ.”

She turns back to Mulder, who can’t help but laugh, shrugging.