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romana-after-dark · 2 days ago

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Our Gentle Sins: Part 12

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

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Chapter summary: Past. Dolly tells it all. Present. Has Logan really changed?

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religious trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Before

With your hair fixed and dressed smoothed, there was no sign of the passion you and Logan had shared, save for a smudge of tinted lip palm. Logan reached out, hated how you flinched even if just so slightly, and wiped it clean. He resisted the urge to lick his thumb, just to taste another trace of you, so he settled with his tongue darting out to his own lips, just for a remainder of your essence.

You and Logan sat on the couch. You faced the ladder that stood against the tall book shelf; Logan faced you.

Killed people? You? You, who cried when he was about to kill a spider, begging him to take it outside. You, who were the shining beacon to mutant kids that they could be loved by humans. You, who were so innocent you shuttered at the brush of his hand on yours.

“It wasn’t in self defense. I don’t have an excuse.”

“Was it Mark?” God, he hoped it was.

You nod.

“Sounds like self defense to me.”

Your hair flies out of its pristine condition with how aggressively you shake your head, brows knitted together in anguish and frustration. Logan didn’t understand, he could tell. He wasn’t sure he could ever understand you, really.

“He was asleep, Lo-”

“Dolly, he beat you bloody, he almost killed you-”

“He wasn’t the only one I killed.”

The silence hung in the air for a few moments as Logan waited. Waited for you to elaborate. Waited for it to make sense in his head. Waited for his anger at your secrets to subside.

“Listen doll,” He stated, clear and assertive. “Just tell me. I can handle it. You want me to tell you the awful things I’ve done? I will, if it’s gonna make you be honest with me. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you.”

A little nod, then you swallowed. It began. “My sister was getting married. Grace. She was 14… her proposed husband was 29.”

“Jesus christ…” Logan didn’t exactly think he was the most morally superior man out there, but he thought any grown man attracted to a teenager was disgusting.

The hem of your long sleeve makes for a good fidget; the weather was getting colder. “I couldn’t do it, Lo. I couldn’t sit by and just- just allow my baby sister to go through what I’d gone through!” You still weren’t looking at him, but you didn’t stop. “I thought about calling the police, but what would it do? Our parents consented, and at the time she wasn’t going to say she didn’t want to, he was a handsome older man, of COURSE she wanted to be with him! I wanted Mark, and look where that landed me!” Finally, you turned to Logan, tears welling up your red eyes, but a look of determination on your face. You didn’t look sorry. “She was 14, Logan. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“I understand.” And he did. If he thought Rogue was getting herself into a situation like that, he’d have stepped in. Hell, sometimes he was ready to beat Remy’s ass. If he had actually thought Remy did anything to that girl, he’d be dead. “She was just a kid.”

A deep breath. “My parents, Grace, her fiance and his parents came to our house one night, we lived in town and they were wedding planning. I took Mark’s gun…” You give a dry laugh. “He pistol whipped me with it more than once, so I knew where he kept it. That was his mistake. I put the silencer on and… I guess just… I dunno. I don’t really remember it. I shot Mark, my parents, the fiance… the fiance's parents. I- sometimes I feel bad about that…”

“Don’t.” His hand reaches for yours. “They were enabling their kid to rape a teenager. Did they have daughters?”

“Yeah… a few younger girls in high school.”

“You probably saved them from getting sold off too.”

“But now they’re in foster care! And my siblings! Our families are torn apart and it’s my fault!”

“Dolly!” Logan pulls you into him, and for a minute you freak out, you hit him and shout, but soon you fall into his strong arms, sobbing. “Your parent’s did this, not you! You did everything to protect your family, this is not. Your. Fault.” He felt you cry into his arms. He never really thought about your brothers and sisters, but he realizes now how much you must miss them. How much you must think and worry about them… Charles knows your story, has he told you how they- Charles knows. Of course he does, he saved you, he took you in… who else knows?

“Does Remy know?”

He feels you nod against him, and jealousy spirals in his chest. “Yeah, I- he and I were up after a nightmare and it… came out.”

He rubs your back. He tries to turn it around, to make sure you didn’t know how much it was eating him up that Remy knew you better than him. “He agrees with me, doesn’t he? And he still loves you. We don’t think you’re a bad person.” A sick part of him was mad you opened up to remy, that you found comfort in him, not Logan. That you didn’t need Logan as long as you had Remy. He takes your chin in his hand, gentle and uncalloused from his healing, touching your soft, wet face as he guides it to his own. “I still love you, Dolly. I love you, and this only makes me love you more.”

Your eyes shone, sadness there but also a glint of love. “I- I love you, Logan, but… I can’t do this right now. I need a little time… just to get myself straight. Is- Is that okay?”

“Dolly…” He kissed your lips, tasting the salt of your tears and the cherry lip balm, trying to force his tongue in your mouth.

“Lo-” You were cut off by his kiss, your hands gripping his flannel shirt began to press flat against his chest.

“Just love me, doll face. Just love me, and it’s gonna be okay.”

“I do!” He could smell the adrenalin and sweat on you, but also the arousal dripping from between your legs when his hand dipped down to the curve of your ass. “I just -mmph- Lo, I need time.”

He ground you down, feeling his erection between your closed thighs as you try to squire away. He just needed you to see, to see how much he loved you, to see how happy you could be together and how good he could make you feel. “Everything is gonna be okay, I promise.”

He needed to be what Remy wasn’t, what he hoped Remy wasn’t, and if he was, he was gonna be it better.

Then he felt a tear drop on his collarbone, and he stopped. He stopped despite the urge to fuck you open right here on this couch, to make you scream loud enough everyone knew who you belonged to. To claim you and fill you so publicly that Scott knew he couldn’t take you from him. Not you. Not you because you were different.

But he didn’t want you crying. He didn’t want you like that.

“Shhh, shhhhhhh it’s okay Dolly, it’s okay. We’ll wait. We’ll wait until you're ready.” He kissed your forehead, cuddling you to his warm chest. “Ain’t doing nothing until ya ready, baby girl.”

After

You liked Wade. A lot.

He was a little out of pocket sometimes, way more overtly sexual at first than you were comfortable with. He made some comment about some sex toy you didn’t understand, and when he tried to explain your face was burning up. Logan proceeds to smack him and drag him out of the room. There was a snikt, and a brief shriek from Wade, then quiet as they muttered back and forth. A minute later, Logan came into the room again, looking sheepish as he got a wet washcloth and said ‘don’t ask.’ Remy told you he probably stabbed Wade, and upon seeing the horrified look on your face explain Wade’s healing that the guy, honestly, liked it.

When Wade and Logan returned, Wade was wearing Logan’s school sweater.

Anyway, after that, Wade apologized and was more careful with how he spoke. He was still strange, a little gremlin at times, but an overall nice guy. You liked how much he made Logan laugh, even when he tried to pretend he was annoyed.

You liked Rogue too. She was a nice girl, sweet, and had a strength you admired. Logan loved her too, it was clear.

And God, so did Remy.

Remy treated Rogue like a goddess, worshipping her every move and his black and red eyes following her with adoration. It made you happy to see. Remy was a good friend, a good person, and a good man; you knew he’d treat her well, and you liked seeing him happy. Maybe in a few years your baby boy would have a friend. Your hand goes to your stomach, feeling a kick. You like that idea?

Wade gasps loudly, looking at you. “Is he kicking??” Wade loved kids. Apparently, he and Vanessa had been talking about having kids. Something about naming them Cher? But that was before it went south.

“You wanna feel?”

Wade eyes lit up, but he hesitated still, blue frosting on his face. Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty planned a surprise party for you after you let Rogue have the card saying the gender. The party was going nicely, Logan was talking to Jean about something you couldn’t hear, and Scott was scowling at them from across the room, ignoring whatever Kitty was talking about. When Jean laughed, you mirrored Scotts glare with a sad look of your own. You didn’t dislike Jean; she was nice. She had been handling your pregnancy and was nothing but kind and gentle. Still, you were only human, and she had sex with your fiance. Your eyes meet Scotts visor, his face unreadable. There was something similar in your positions.

You want to be distracted.

“C’mon, Logans busy.”

When Wade glances at the former couple, he makes a face you can’t quite decipher, then comes over to you. Taking his hand in yours, you guide him to where your son is kicking. It’s over your dress of course, but it still feels strange to have a man touching you, even with Wade being respectful.

He’s absolutely beaming. With a slight, breathy laugh, “Guard dog isn’t gonna bite my hand off, is he?”

“No, I promise.” You laugh back. After feeling the kick a few times, Wade pulls back. For all his unserious bravado, you noticed he’s particularly careful not to touch you or not touch longer than needed. Logan told you he’s secretly insecure about his skin, he thinks it freaks people out. You will admit, it took a little getting used to. Of course it did, just like Remy’s eyes or Kurt’s blue fur. But you didn’t think he was gross, and you didn’t mind his hand reaching to help you up or steading you when you trip. You were beginning to trust Wade like you trusted Remy.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You smile warmly. “You and Rogue. I like seeing Logan so happy.”

“Yeah,” Wade laughs, “He’s like a teenager finding pornhub for the first time, damn near giddy.”

You weren’t sure what pornhub was, but you could guess. “Actually, we wanted to talk to you about something… Logan feels to awkward, but we were thinking baby names-”

“Oh I love baby names! Got a fuck ton picked out. Cher was number one of course but considering Remy’s absolutely incomprehensible cajun it might get mixed up with the whole ‘chere, cherie, mon cherie’ bit,” he mocks the accent. “Might not be the best. For boys, I hope you stay away from the god awful braxtyn, brayden, etc names, but DONT fall into the trap of those grandfather names. Theres 1000 baby Henry’s right now, i can’t keep doing it-”

“Wade.”

“Yes?”

“We picked out a name already.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “Go on. But I’m warning you, I will be honest.”

You giggle, and see Logan glance over at you. He gives a warm smile, and you give a little wave before turning back to Wade. “First name is gonna be Steven.”

“Oh course, like the bible guy.”

“The ‘bible guy’ is a respected figure in the church, Wade.”

“And which church is that again? I missed that part- never mind, go on.”

You shoot the man a pointed semi-glare, but in good humor. “The biblical figure is a factor, but also Remy’s middle name is Étienne, which is a french version of Steven.”

Wade sighs dreamily. “Oh, that beautiful hunk of a man is going to absolutely adore that.”

“And for the middle name, we were thinking… Winston. Well, actually, I wanted Winston for the first name but Logan said other kids would make fun of him for having the name of a cigarette brand-” you were nearly knocked over with the hug. “Ah!”

“FUCK! I LOVE YOU GUYS SO FUCKING MUCH RIGHT NOW!”

Logan was over between you in a second, steadying you from the force of his hug. “Watch it, bu-” Wade did actually knock over Logan this time.

“I”M SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW!”

The rest of the party went wonderfully. You told everyone the name you had chosen, bringing Remy to tears as he hugged you.

“None of this would be possible without you, Remy.” You try not to think about ‘this’ including what Logan had done to you, but Remy didn’t know about that. Remy had gotten you guys together, and helped along the way, he was the reason you were having Stevie.

The only thing wrong was later in the night. Wade rambled to you and Logan about how things were going to get real confusing if Stevie was a mutant, because it was already confusing enough with the amount of Steven heroes. Apparently there was a Steve Rogers, Stephan Strange, and a Steven grant already. You didn’t know what he was talking about, but you let him go off.

Logan was not paying attention. As Wade happily rambled away, switching topics to the wedding in two months, you notice Logan clutching the beer bottle tightly and glaring hard in the corner. There stood Remy between Rogue’s legs as she sat up on the counter. Most guests had filed out by this point, leaving only you, Wade, Logan, Remy and Rogue, and then Kurt and Emma talking at the table.

“Oh come on.” You laugh, washing up dishes. Jubilee had promised they’d take care of the clean up in the morning but you didn’t want to leave a big mess so you and Logan were getting the worst of it done. “It’s Remy, you like him, remember? We’re naming our son after him.”

Logan was throwing all the trash away. “I like him as your friend, doll face. But he’s a whore.”

With a small gasp, you turn around. “Please don’t call my friend that, Logan.”

He softens just a bit before sighing an throwing a beer bottle in the trash. It shatters. “I’m sorry, baby, but you know it’s true. He’s slept with half the mansion.”

“He hasn’t slept with anyone all year. You know Rogue left him heart broken.”

“She didn’t do anything to him!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me!” You point at him with a wet hand. “I’m not blaming her. I like her, and I know you’re protective of her, but don’t act like Remy beat and assaulted her.” It was a pointed remark, a little reminder that you hadn’t, in fact, forgotten. Logan’s face is angry, something that has rarely, if ever, been directly at you. It makes you nervous. You go back to the dishes. “It’s just Remy. He’ll be good to her.”

“He’s so much older than her! She’s just a kid, dolly!”

You scoff. “They have a smaller age gap than we do.”

“Don’t fucking talk back to me.”

You hated this, the way he spoke to you like you dad, like Mark did. What had happened? Why was he acting like this all of a sudden? The alcohol?

“I don’t think you get a say in what she does when you disappeared on her without a work just because Jean-”

The hit was so hard your forehead slammed into the cabinet.

Before you could even react, before you had a chance to walk through the steps that Logan had hit you, you were in his arms, sitting on the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry baby, oh my god, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t…” He stroked your hair, your body shaking a bit but too in shock to cry.

He hit you. Logan hit you. And now your head throbbed from hitting the wood cabinet and fuck, did it ache

“It wasn’t supposed to be hard, I just wanted your attention. You know that right? I wouldn’t hurt you?”

Logan wouldn’t hurt you. Logan wouldn’t hurt you. You flash back to months ago in this very kitchen, breaking down crying to Scott that he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t… He was going to know now, he would know he hit you, Logan couldn’t hide it. Everything that you’d built together would fall apart.

The team would fall apart, people picking sides.

Surely you’d lose Rogue, Wade, and Kurt, they’d take Logan’s side.

Would you lose Remy too? Would he chose keeping Rogue over you?

Stevie would be raised without a father once Charles saw into your mind… but Logan’s voice echo’d in your head from that day. ‘Not gonna tell Charles or anyone, not when you got as wet as you did, right?’. Charles would know. He’d know you were wet, that’d you’d gotten turned on… that’d know that before, the times you and Logan kissed even way back to the dressing room incident. He’d know you told Logan you loved him… so what right did you have to call it rape?

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Bobby walked into the kitchen to see you two together, you crying in Logan’s lap.

“Yeah.” logan grumbled, an edge to his voice giving away he felt at least the slightest bit nervous. “She hit her head. Slipped on water at the sink.”

Bobby kneels down, ice frosting his hands he puts where the goose egg is forming. It feels good, like an ice pack. “I’m gonna get Jean, here-” He reached up to grab a dry rag, wets and then freezes it.

Logan tries to protest. “No, I think she’s fine.”

But Bobby was already heading out. “I’ll bring her here.”

“Wait! Just- I’ll carry her to the med bay, meet us there.”

Bobby shouts something in confirmation, and Logan scoops you up. “Poor baby, slipping on the water…”

Your head was spinning and throbbing, trying to make sense of what was happening. Did you slip? That had to be it. That had to be it. You had to have slipped.

Your head hurt.

LOGAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNN

Come on brother

Okay, one step closer! Someone on ao3 said this series was like a puzzle, and that made me so happy bc thats what i wanted it to be.

We got one big piece now; What dolly was hiding.

The next big piece is why did Logan go from sweet, soft logan to raping her? It does not excuse him at all, in fact it might make logan look worse.

thank you so much for all your love an support!

Unfortunetly it might be a min before the next chapter. i fell behind of writing bc holidays are BUSY at olive garden!!!! I gotta get the final chapter of rooms on fire out!!! its in my triple frontier list if you are interested!!! its a cult au, lots of twists and turns.

poll time!

happy hanukkah everyone!!!! If you celebrate like me, please check out this companion guide for rabbis for ceasefire, praying for a ceasefire, the safety of innocent palistinians the return of the hostages. You all should know where I stand on this, but supporting a ceasefire is bipartisan.

I will be making a donation to Doctors without borders this Hanukkah, and I greatly encourage you to do the same.

If you celebrate christmas, MERRY CHRISTMAS! Remember that the land jesus was born in is being torn apart by bombs, rape, guns, starvation and lack of shelter. Look through this prayer guide to pray for peace, and consider backing your prayers with monitary donation. Peace on earth means civilians not being bombs and the return of innocent hostages, both of which is supported by a ceasefire. Here is one specifically for catholics, the religion i was raised in.

Thank you for all your love and constant support here!

I had a rough holiday few weeks bc i work in a restraunt, and then saturday i got into a minor car accident. ran into a light pole. it was literally all my fault i have 0 excuses, it wasnt even icy. I hit my head and got whiplash by my car is drivable thank you g-d.

life goes on!

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia a @new-genesis100 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight @nonamevenus

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numinousmysteries · 1 day ago

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@poangsecretsanta

[on Ao3]

Vrooom, vrooom, let's basketball! For the delightful @xf-cases-solved aka diz who loves Milagro:

Agent Scully is already in love .

The words taunt him as she digs her nails into his back. She's crying hot tears onto the shoulder of his sweater and clinging to him like a life raft in a storm. He tries to focus on the thumping of her heart against his chest, the frantic breaths she gasps into his ear—signs that she’s alive, that he hasn’t lost her—but he can’t get Padgett’s words out of his mind.

Padgett's a liar and a murderer, he tells himself. The guy would say anything to get a rise out of him.

But he loves her. He's known for years although he doesn't know how to admit that to her, or even to herself. The possibility that she could feel the same way is too overwhelming to even consider. And the potential consequences too enormous.

The paramedics arrive and give her a preliminary exam on his living room couch. Despite the volume of blood on her clothing, there doesn't seem to be an entry or exit wound and her vitals are normal. They offer a ride to the hospital just to be safe, but she declines.

"Alright," one of them says, slightly baffled. "Well, don't hesitate to call us again or come into the ER if your condition changes."

“Yes,” she says, her voice firm, the Dr. Dana Scully tone she uses for the rest of the world. For everyone except him.

He shows them to the door.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks her once they're alone.

"Yeah, I think so," she says softly.

"Why don't I get you a change of clothes? Or, do you want to take a shower?"

"I-I'm not sure," she says and he realizes she's shaking.

"Oh Scully, come here," he says, taking a seat next to her on the couch and opening his arms to her.

Her lower lip trembles as she closes her eyes and rests her head on his chest. He wraps his arms around her and rubs soothing circles on her back. Her blood stains his sweater, marking him.

"It's okay," he says. He leans down to kiss the crown of her head. It's warm and damp with sweat. She smells like fear.

He hears her sniffling and trying to catch her breath. After a few moments of sobbing, her breathing slows down and becomes more measured. He feels her pulling back and he releases her from his embrace.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I should go."

"Hey, wait, Scully," he says, grabbing her onto her wrist to keep her from rising from the couch. "You don't have to go just yet. I don't know if you should be driving like this."

"I'm fine," she says, although her warbling voice betrays her vulnerability.

"If you think I care about anything he wrote in that book—"

"Oh, Mulder, stop," she protests, but he continues.

"He didn’t know you at all. It was just the fantasies of a mad, lonely man."

"That's the thing," she sighs. "I think he did know me. Some of that was eerily accurate. It was almost like he was profiling me. I felt so exposed."

"But not all of it, obviously," he says.

"You mean, that I’m not in love?”

He pauses, frozen in his tracks. He meant the part about her sleeping with Padgett. He wasn't expecting they'd actually discuss that part.

"Scully, I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it."

She sucks in her top lip and bows her head, tears still wet on her face.

"What would that mean?" She asks. "I mean, to you? What would it mean to you if I were in love?"

He's confused, tiptoeing carefully around her question. "Well, I'd buy the lucky guy a beer to congratulate him. Let him know he's in for a lifetime of being second-guessed. But also that I'm damn jealous of him for getting to spend it with you."

A soft laugh catches in her throat and turns into a cough. "Mulder," she starts, looking down at her hands in her lap. "You know there's no one else...in my life."

"No one else besides..?"

She sighs again, this time more in frustration, and looks up at him with wet, blue eyes. "You're really going to make me say it?"

"I don't want to assume anything. But if you were to say you were in love with me, I'd assure you that there's nothing in the world that would make me happier. And that the feeling is more than mutual."

She stares at him in stunned silence and he immediately wants to take his words back. Not because they aren’t true, but because he isn’t sure he’s ready to face their implications.

“Shit, Scully, I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re in shock.”

“No,” she says quietly but resolutely, bringing a small palm to the center of his chest. Her touch feels firm. “I feel the same way. I have for a long time.”

“I’m flattered, truly,” he stammers. “But it doesn’t have to change anything between us. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it weren’t for Padgett and I don’t think we should give him that much power.”

He expects her to withdraw her hand but she doesn’t. With each fervent beat of his heart he feels the gentle but assured pressure of her touch. Not for the first time, he feels as if his heart will stop beating if she pulls away.

“Can we really go back, though?” She asks, her eyes pleading. “To the way we were before?

He thinks, No, please, anything but that. He says, “Of course we can. We’ve made it through far worse.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go back,” she says quickly, just barely above a whisper and he freezes.

“Well, then.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It sounds strangled in his throat and he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing. Or the right thing. “Then maybe we don’t have to. What's stopping us?"

"I'm scared," she admits, with a furrow of the soft skin in between her eyebrows.

"I am, too," he says softly, stroking her back with one broad palm, feeling muscles easing underneath his hand.

She stares at him in puzzled amazement and he fears he's gone too far. But he sees her lips starting to part and they simultaneously lean in to meet in an impossibly soft, delicate kiss. It's sweet and sad and endearing. They're both scared to push the envelope so they barely move as their lips touch, as if just getting used to the sensation of touching in this way. It feels ancient and new at the same time. Like coming home while also jettisoning out of the earth’s orbit.

She sucks in a sharp breath of air and pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"No, no," she says quickly. "Please don't apologize. I want this so badly, too, trust me. I just...I don't know what it will look like. How it will change things between us."

"I don't know either," he admits. "But I think it's worth a try."

He has all the same questions she has. Do they keep this a secret? Can they ever be seen in public as more than just coworkers? Can they sleep over each other's apartments? They've been followed and trailed and bugged before so they know any change in their normal activities would quickly get noticed by their enemies. Although, in light of recent events, it seems that the group of men who've been conspiring against them might be much smaller in numbers now.

"I don't know what this will look like," he reiterates. "But I don't think I could live without you."

She nods solemnly. "What if they use this as an opportunity to tear us apart?"

"Who? The bureau?" he asks. "I'd quit. I don't care. You're more important than all of this."

She pauses thoughtfully as his proclamation washes over her. He knows what he's saying and he means it. Six years ago he told her nothing else mattered beyond finding his sister. At the time it was true. But six years later, his priorities have shifted. He's been lied to and fucked over too many times to genuinely believe that the truth about his sister is knowable. And if it is, he'll only find it with Scully at his side.

He told her once that she made him a whole person and it's truer now more than ever. Losing her would be worse than losing a part of himself.

"I want to try then," she says, embarking on this shift in their relationship with the same seriousness she applies to everything she does. Scully does not leap without looking. He felt hurt in the past when she had her one-night stand with Ed Jerse, confused how she could do something so rash and frankly, stupid, but he realized she was only able to act so quickly because it meant so little to her. When the stakes are high, she takes her time.

"Me too," he says.

She gives a little laugh out of overwhelm. "We're talking a lot about this for people who have just barely kissed."

He smiles, feeling love and warmth emanating off her. "Well, I plan to change that as soon as possible. Why don't we get you in the shower to clean off and take it from there? Only if you're, um, comfortable of course." He wants this so badly but he also doesn't know if he wants their first time to be marred by the brutality of this attack.

"I think I'll be very comfortable with that," she says. "Will you join me in the shower?"

"Pull my leg.”

She rolls her eyes at him and he remembers, It’s Scully . No matter how their relationship changes, they’ll still bicker and disagree and she’ll still give him that look.

He stands up and offers her his hand. She takes it and he leads her to the bathroom. The water takes a moment to warm up so he twists the knob first before addressing their clothing. She's already discarded her jacket on the sofa when the paramedics were examining her, so he starts with slowly unbuttoning her bloodied blouse. He moves so slowly, wanting to memorize this moment. He wishes there wasn't any blood.

After each button, he looks up at her, silently asking for permission to keep going. Her pupils are big and glassy but she nods each time they make eye contact so he continues. Her skin is soft and unbroken underneath her shirt but still marked red with blood. Her skin goose-pimples from the cold so he pulls her into his chest before sliding the shirt off her shoulders.

"I love you," he whispers into her hair. "You know that, right? I've loved you for so long."

She leans against his body and sniffles.

"I know," she says, and he kisses the part in her scalp, the white skin where her red hair originates. "I love you, too.”

He returns to undressing her, moving more quickly now as he's eager to get her into the warm shower. Once she's naked in front of him, he pauses for just a moment to admire her before quickly pulling off his sweater and t-shirt and stepping out of his jeans. Her intellect and integrity loom so large in his mind that he forgets how physically small she actually is. He can span her waist with two hands. He’s terrified of what a man with less noble intentions could do.

They take the final step into the shower together. She gasps when the hot water hits her skin and he feels a jolt of panic before seeing her visually relax in front of him. She closes her eyes and tilts back her head. On the shower floor beneath them, the tide runs scarlet.

The water is hot but she's still shivering so he pulls her in, wrapping his arms around her, pushing his torso into hers.

He imagines Padgett touching her like this, his leering gaze lingering on her skin as he skimmed his hands over her breasts, her waist, her hips. He grips her more forcefully imagining how much this stranger wanted to do this to her, but never will. Mine , he thinks to himself as he goes in for another deep kiss, his hands on her neck feeling her stubborn, insistent pulse. She perseveres.

"I want–" she says into his chest. She doesn't finish her sentence but he knows what she wants. He wants it, too.

He takes a step back, still with his arms around her but at a distance so they can meet each other's eyes.

"There's no going back after this," he says. "You know that, right?"

Even amid the running water he can see tears forming in her eyes.

"No going back," she promises. Her voice is firm, strong. It’s the voice he’s come to trust above all others.

He's kissing her again, this time without hesitation, searching furiously within her mouth with his tongue as his hands explore her body. He's hard, now, aching for her and he doesn't shy away when he feels her soft belly press against his erection.

The water is running clear now, all the blood rinsed off her skin. He reaches for the faucet handle, seeking approval in her eyes. She nods and he turns the water off. Without stepping out of the shower, he reaches for the nearest towel, wrapping it around her. She's shivering so he brushes his hands vigorously against the cloth, hoping to warm her up. He's still wet, naked in front of her but he doesn't care. There's only one towel on the rack. Why would there be another? He always thought he'd die alone here. It's been years since he knew she was it for him. Either she'd come around or she wouldn't and he'd have to be content with their friendship. But now she's here. Naked in his shower wrapped in his only towel.

"Just a second," he says. He pads out of the shower, leaving a trail of wet footprints through to his bedroom where he finds an old threadbare towel in the closet. It smells vaguely mildewy but he doesn't care. He just needs to get himself sufficiently dry. He towels himself off then tosses it in the corner of the bathroom and returns to her.

"Cold?" He asks.

“A little, yeah.”

He embraces her once again, the towel she's clutching under her chin the only thing between them.

"Come get warm."

He guides her to his bed, pulling the sheet and coverlet over her, lifting her wet hair up on the pillow she lies on so it spreads out around her like a halo.

"You," she says.

He knows what she means. He slips under the covers to hold her against him. He's kissing her neck and whispering I love you, I love you, I love you into her collarbones when she stops shaking.

She snakes a hand between them and she feels her small, thin hand wrap around his cock. He gasps, involuntarily, the novelty of a touch that isn't his own for the first time in years is enough to set him off. The knowledge that it's Scully's hand is enough to make him cry.

"We don't have to...tonight," he says.

"I want to," she says.

"Well then I'm not going to argue with you," he says, smiling. She grins back at him and he feels the weight of the universe lifting off him.

“That’s a first.” She grins. It’s a challenge and an invitation.

He pushes himself up so he's on top of her, kissing her hard as she holds his rigid cock in her hand. Then, he starts working his way down her body, giving a little sigh when he's low enough that she has to release him. He wants this to last forever. He doesn't know if they'll have another chance. If she'll wake up in the morning and realize she was acting on fear and adrenaline and tell him this can never happen again. It's entirely possible, so he wants to savor every moment in case this is their only time. He wants to see her body respond in pleasure, instead of fear or pain.

She's already moaning by the time he makes his way to her navel. He tongues the concavity, then turns his head to face her gunshot wound. It's only a few months old, still dark and angry against her pale skin. He kisses that, too.

Lower still, he gently parts her legs with his palms, pausing to glance up and lock eyes with her. He’s looking for a nod, a sign she wants him to keep going. She keeps her gaze steady on him, though, then opens up her legs further and wraps her calves around his back.

He’s seen her naked before, but never like this. Never so open, so vulnerable and welcoming, and he knows how significant this is for her. For both of them. He presses a kiss on her mons, the soft hair still damp from the shower. He smells his own soap but underneath that, her . She tenses her thighs around him and lets out a little frustrated gasp that makes him smile to himself.

He can’t deprive her what she wants. He gives her leg a squeeze, then licks her slowly, running his tongue from her opening up to the hood of her clit. That last part makes her gasp again and he focuses solely on her clit next, pursing his lips to suck while teasing her with his tongue. Just like he’s learned nearly everything there is to know about her over the years—when she’s truly angry at him or just needs a lame joke to break the tension; the way she licks her lip when she’s pondering a mystery—he takes the time to learn what she likes. She isn’t loud, but he seems to be expertly interpreting each of her little sounds as her body responds around him and she grinds her hips up to meet him.

“Mulder—” she calls out and squeezes his shoulder.

He stops suddenly, panicking that he's done something wrong. She reads him easily, though, and gives him a reassuring smile. “Get up here,” she whispers.

He kisses his way back up her body until they’re face to face.

She takes the lead now, pulling his head down to meet hers and kissing him hungrily. He’s achingly hard against her and terrified he isn’t going to last long enough to make this memorable.

“Can I?” He whispers into her, grinding against her like a teenager.

She answers by reaching down and guiding him inside her. She’s wet but so, so tight and he looks to her to make sure she isn’t in pain as he lowers himself down into her inch by inch. He’s trying to move slowly, fighting against every instinct in his body to plunge fully inside her. She takes him out of his misery by sliding her hands around to palm his ass and bring him closer to her.

“You feel incredible,” he whispers into her ear.

He wants to remember every sensation—the warmth of her breath on his neck, the smell of her sweat, the grip of her inner walls around his dick.

They start moving in unison, their bodies finding a rhythm that mirrors the intellectual volley they’ve established over the years. Burying his face in the curve of her shoulder, he hears her moaning into his ear. Thankfully, it seems like she’s close because he doesn’t think he can last much longer.

“Oh, Mulder,” she purrs as her orgasm ripples through her body. His name on her lips is enough to make him surrender, thrusting quicker and harder until he comes hard inside her. The scope of his universe is suddenly reduced to their bodies, tangled and intertwined on his bed.

Coming down from his high, he rolls off of her. Without speaking, they turn to face each other. Burgeoning tears blur his vision. He blinks to see her more clearly and she wipes them off his cheekbones with her thumbs.

“That was…” He pauses, struggling to find the words adequate to describe the immensity of his emotions.

“Perfect,” she finishes for him.

Their lips meet and this time the kiss is languid and indulgent. Worn out from physical exertion and emotional exhaustion, they take their time. His fear that she’d immediately regret what they did and they’d have to go back to being partners evaporates. It’s not an ending. They’re evolving into something new. Just as they’ve gone from coworkers to friends, the road to this next level of their relationship, he knows, won’t always be smooth but will be more than worth the journey.

#poangpresents2024 #poangpals #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #msr

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