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sooibian · 4 years ago

Text

Wherever You Are

Pairing: Kai x You as Lys ft. Baekhyun, Minseok, Yixing

Description: When you least expect it, love, quite literally, sweeps you off your feet

Themes: Romani AU, magical realism, romance, angst, drama ™ (i grew up on a healthy dose of Bollywood and it! shows!), secret relationship, heavily influenced by Mmmh Kai

Warnings: Blood, weapons, violence

Word Count: +9.5k (i’m sorry i haven’t had the time to proof-read this at all)

Tagging: @changshapatrol @rosetvler @bbyunz @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt @royal-aeris @bbhmystar @his-mochi-cheeks @littleflowercrown13

Part of the Steampunk Romani AU collab with @leewalberg @vampwrrr @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme

Pre-reading notes:

1. This is a spin-off for Lys from Star-Crossed but it can be read as a standalone oneshot. I’ve tried my best to translate the events of that fic into Lys’ POV but feel free to shoot me a message if something still confuses you.

2. Lys is a mind-reader, Baekhyun has the ability to influence physical objects with his mind, Yixing is a dragon and he’s the leader of the clan (Bulibasha), and Kai - as we all know - can teleport!!

3. Glossary: bulibasha - clan leader, dado - father, dya - mother, gadjo - someone of non-romani descent / origin, dragă - darling, iubirea mea - my love, lautari - a group of romani musicians, zakono - a key institution for enforcing the Romani Code.

“Dado, can I go along with Minseok?”

“Where to, dragă?”

“To the horse fair....the one in the village?”

“That’s no place for a pretty princess such as yourself -”

“But..but.. dado!”

“The camp has everything you’ll ever need, dragă.”

You woke up to the same old chirping of crickets, the same old crimson, black, and gold panels draping your tent, the same old wine stained goblet on your nightstand, the same old aroma of steamed xaimoko and hearty cornbread, and... the same old stinging in your heart.

Lips stretched into a habitual wide grin, you greeted the lass who brought you dinner with a drawn out “Morning”.

“It’s seven in the evening, Lys. You know how your father feels about you sleeping during sunset!” Vera exclaimed and gathered her skirts to sit on the edge of your bed, her gentle fingers combing through to untangle knots in her mistress’ long, dark hair.

Having mastered the art of repressing the emotions that threatened to colour your expression at the mere mention of your father, feigning excitement, you took her hand in yours and coyly quizzed her on the topic she was dying to discuss, “Tell me more about the whitesmith boy, Vera? Did he prove to be,” you cleared your throat and said in a hushed whisper, “worth his mettle?” and drew the question out with a roaring laughter.

“Hush, Lys!” Said Vera bashfully, biting on her lower lip to suppress the smile that was beginning to form on her mellow, innocent face. The whitesmith boy, better known as Kris, was the clan’s most eligible bachelor until yesterday.

Young girls, in pairs or trios, would hide behind the shrubbery by the river to catch a glimpse of him shirtless, bring him bent out of shape wares to fix and polish - even the ones whose weights their delicate hands couldn’t bear - and watch him at his job for hours at an end as sweat would drip down his neck, making his light, cotton shirt cling onto his well defined back.

As any young man his age would, Kris surely enjoyed the attention but he didn’t thrive on it. His heart belonged solely to his beloved. He settled for the most simple woman, some would say for the want of a better word, but you were convinced that none of them had experienced the sweetness that was love.

You had - but only vicariously. Love, trust, anticipation, joy - all vicariously. The only emotions you truly understood, first-hand, were longing, anger, and sadness.

“Lys?” A finger poking into your side broke you out of your reverie.

“Hmm?”

“I said, yes.”

“What for?” You asked, an innocent eyebrow raised in question.

She only giggled in response and darted out of your tent. Grinning wide, you turned to your meal and just then the aggressive tramp of horses’ hooves and sharp, piercing cries of pain and fear from men, women, and children reached your ears. Before you could make sense of the situation, your shell-shocked eyes followed Vera’s body as it fell inside your tent with a dull thud, an arrow pierced through her chest.

Your dinner tray toppled over as you ran to her aid and struggled with the bitter truth that you could do nothing to breathe life into the one person out of the very few that truly cared for you. With your hand on her teared stained cheek, you listened to her conscience ferociously chant, dya...dya...take care of dya!

“I will, Vera. I promise to take care of your mother.”

Only when she was reassured did Vera allow life to drain out of her eyes while tears started to line yours and grief clawed at your throat. You began to drag her limp body towards the bed and it wasn’t long before a familiar face barged into your tent. Throwing his crossbow to the side, your brother helped you hoist Vera’s body up onto your bed.

“What’s going on -”

“We’ve been attacked by a group of dacoits. Stay inside. Whatever happens, do not leave your tent! You understand me?” Minseok commanded, his dark eyes piercing yours while blood trickled down the side of his face.

“You’re hurt -”

He shook his head and repeated, panic betraying his voice, “Just... stay safe, Lys. Will you?”

Breaking down into sobs you nodded frantically as the ugly realisation of loss washed over you. Minseok pulled you into a tight embrace, praying fervently, “It could’ve been you. It could’ve been you instead of - of Vera! Thank God! Thank God, it wasn’t you!”

His every word felt like a punch in the gut.

He then marched out with his crossbow in hand, vengeance in his eyes and your heart clenched with fear for your brother’s life. Hiding behind the entrance panels, you watched the scene outside.

The settlement was barren except for the dacoits and a handful of men from the clan out on the field; the rest had scurried into the safe confines of their caravans and tents. Men on horseback, dressed in black robes, had their faces covered in black scarves. They spoke a different tongue but you understood that they sought revenge. A life for a life, they repeated over and over in broken Romani. They menacingly circled Baekhyun with arrows and daggers pointed to his heart. Baekhyun’s stance was alert with his jamdhar in his hand as a majestic black and gold dragon hovered over them, a tattered body dangling from his spine chilling, bloody mouth.

It happened within a matter of seconds - the dacoits lay slain - some with arrows pierced through their chests, some eviscerated into smithereens and the rest crumbled to black dust - the doing of Minseok, Baekhyun, and Yixing respectively.

With one flap of his massive wings, Yixing descended, gracefully landing on his human feet as a man-servant trotted to his aid with a black robe to cover his modesty yet, very little was left to imagination.

“They really thought -”

Before Yixing could complete his sentence, an unconscious Baekhyun collapsed - right in the centre of the bloody chaos. That jamdhar is going to be his undoing, you said to yourself. A girl with dark unruly hair rushed to his side - your fiancé’s side - the sight turning your limbs to ice.

Your heart sank to your stomach but the edges of your mouth curled up in a smile as you met her eyes from a distance with sheer contempt in your own.

A man you didn't recognise, supported by two others on either side, was being ushered into Yixing's private chamber.

You felt a hand against the small of your back. Minseok whispered into your ear, "Dado wants to see you."

***

In the centre of the room slouched a man on a wooden chair, his hands roped together at the back, face bruised and bloodied - evidently the doing of your own brother.

“What’s all this?” You asked the three men surrounding him.

“The bandits left their dog behind,” spat Yixing.

“So? What am I supposed to do?” You directed the question to your father.

“We need to know who he is, where he’s from, and...why we were attacked.” Replied your father, eyes forcefully trained on the unconscious man on the chair.

“You should’ve probably left him with some life in his body to answer your questions.” You said to Minseok indignantly.

“Lys!” Your father was prepared to reprimand you at your insolence in front of Bulibasha.

“Dado - ”

“Lys, just hold his hand and tell us what he’s thinking.” Minseok tried to lighten the tense atmosphere with his calm voice.

“I have better things to do than hold a gadjo’s hand and listen to the filth of his mind. I’ll leave you big and strong men to it.” You sauntered over to your father, the corner of your mouth raised in a smirk. Dusting the lint off of his magnificent black and red woollen cloak that was embroidered along the edges with the finest gold thread, you sang, “I’m nothing more than just a pretty princess, anway.”

“Lys, please!” Cried Minseok.

“What would you have me do, Minseok? Stay here with you all while my fiancé is canoodling with the Bladerunner by the pond?” You retorted.

Yixing shot you a puzzled glance while Minseok and your father averted their eyes.

"It’s known to be their usual hideout.” You half-shrugged at Yixing, your casual tone not doing much to ease the frown lines on his handsome face.

While you were busy squabbling with your family, the man on the chair lifted his head up, rope evidently cut loose with a push dagger, and immediately all four pairs of eyes turned to him. Underneath the caked blood and grime on his face, he flaunted golden skin, luscious lips, and sharp, distinct features. His eyes met yours and crinkled into crescents as his lips curved into a disrespectful smirk.

He gave you a casual two-finger salute goodbye and….vanished.

Breaking into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at the three men caught unawares, you turned on your heels and merrily skipped out of Yixing’s private chamber.

The next morning found you by the river, still trying to wrap your head around the events of yesterday. ‘Thank God it wasn’t you!’ Your brother’s gentle voice rang ominously in your ears. ‘But what if it was?’ you reasoned with yourself, ‘Would it have meant being finally free or trapped in a permanent state of oblivion?’ In tune with your mind, your feet wandered, taking you deeper into the viridian forest.

You stumbled upon something stock-still and landed on your back causing that something to stir and wince in pain as it slowly regained consciousness. You crawled as far away from it as you could only to recognize him by the pleated black cummerband around his waist. The gadjo struggled to hold himself up and flattened to the ground again.

His agony brought you some solace as Vera’s ashen face flashed before your eyes. Laughing, you exclaimed, "So this is how far you managed to get! A stone's throw from Bulibasha's tent."

The man winced again but a smile began to form on his lips. "Wa-water," he breathed but you leisurely rested your back against the trunk of a nearby tree and denied his request with a little shake of your head, “A life for a life, gadjo. Repay your debt. Your people killed my friend.”

“Not- not my doing,” he said throatily and began dragging himself towards the river. He was sculpted like the dancers of a lăutari - long and lean, elegantly broader along the shoulders and chest and enviably slim around the waist.

You offered him no help. Instead, waited with a bated breath for his soul to escape him. But his snail’s pace had started to exasperate you. So you begrudgingly volunteered to bring him water as his dying wish.

“Here you go, gadjo. Seeing the way my brother beat you up, a sip or two of water won’t be of much help, anyway.” You sneered, holding the edge of the cupped leaf to his bruised lips.

As he drank, colour slowly returned to his ghost-white, bloodied face. “Kai,” he said in a voice that was husky and deep.

“What?”

“It’s my name. You’d do well to remember it.” His face lit up with a smile and his eyes found your thick golden anklet bejeweled with iridescent beads. He flicked the bead trinkets with his finger and squeezed his eyes shut as if in admiration of a great symphony.

Before you could even make sense of the situation...of him...he vanished again.

Kai, you mouthed, curled up in bed at midnight.

“Kai,” you said the gadjo’s name out loud, the tips of your fingers tracing the movement of your lips and despite yourself, blood began to warm your face. It had been a week since you met him in the forest but the man had capsized your mind. You inwardly admonished yourself for not killing him when you had the chance - it was the least you could’ve done for Vera - but you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him.

You saw truth in his innocent yet compelling eyes.

A whirlpool of emotions rose in your chest as you tossed and turned in bed causing a bead of your anklet to tangle with a loose silk thread from your quilt. Groaning, you sat up to undo it, and heard a sudden, loud crack.

Kai had unexpectedly appeared, standing at the foot of your bed. Arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side, he smiled down at you.

Returning his smile, you said, “If I scream, there’ll be at least ten men here, in no time, with sharp objects pointed at your throat.”

Gaze intertwined with yours, Kai knelt before you as his deft fingers found the troublesome bead. Smirking, he slowly pushed the quilt out of the way, and you instinctively pulled your skirts down below your knees. His mouth found the loose thread and he bit on it to free you from the restraint as his warm breath fanned your ankle and his soft lips brushed ever so slightly against your skin. As delicate as the touch was, it felt like being imprinted with a blazing hot cast-iron.

“If you truly wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have saved my life. And I’m here to thank you for that,” he smiled, and took the bold step of sitting next to you, on your bed. He then clicked his tongue, fingers ghosting along the curve of your ankle, and piped cockily, “Besides, you know I’d vanish before your sluggish men even manage to get here.”

“You think you’re very brave, gadjo?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a fool for walking into the lioness’ den.”

His expression suddenly turned solemn. Studying your face intently, he whispered, “I’m sorry about your friend. I didn’t -”

“You didn’t what?” Your heart thumped wildly in your chest in a rather desperate anticipation of his innocence. So you immediately placed your clammy hand upon his trembling, cold one.

His voice grew thick with anguish as he explained, “I didn’t know those men were going to storm your clan. I’d only met them that morning. They said they were traveling south and I - I really had nowhere to go so I joined them without giving it much thought. I was desperate for company.”

His words were very much in line with his thoughts and memories. Images of the dacoits just as you’d seen them that evening, their boisterous banter, their journey towards the settlement, the food and wine and spoils they shared along the way, all flashed before your eyes.

You knew a liar when you saw one - their features were drawn out a bit differently, you’d believed. Baekhyun was a liar. He’d lied when you had asked him if he loved you. But Kai on the other hand…

“At the time you didn’t realize that they were plunderers?” You asked delicately.

“All I understood was that they weren’t men of strong character. But I didn’t care for their morality. I knew I could protect myself if worse came to worst.”

“Why didn’t you simply run...vanish when they besieged my clan?” As hard as you tried, you failed to keep the edge off of your voice.

The pitch of Kai’s voice rose as he continued to explain, “I grew numb...my hands and legs and...mind...I’ve seen war and suffering and I didn’t expect to cross paths with tragedy again so soon. So I - nobody noticed this at the time because of the chaos - but I fought on your side. I tried to save as many as I could.”

You contemplated on his words for a moment without realizing that his fingers were now laced with yours.

“- when my brother found you, you just -”

“I thought I - ,” his voice dropped and lower lip quivered slightly, “ - deserved the punishment.”

Fighting back your tears, you asked, “Why didn’t you explain this to them?”

“Did you see the look on your brother’s face? And the dragon’s? He was breathing fire even in his human form. They were ready to bring me to justice for the crimes I didn’t commit.”

You gave Kai a quick once-over. His face still bore bruises from the beating but his clothes were impeccable. Rich, even. He was dressed in a blue cashmere smock, red velvet pants, and his fingernails were coated in a deep teal. He wore a beaded bracelet on his right wrist that sparkled in the dim lighting of your tent - as did the platinum ring laced with exquisite tiny diamonds on his right hand index finger.

Had the dacoits looted him, they would’ve comfortably lived on the gains from the ring alone for a good part of the year. What was the need for them to tread such a great distance to loot your clan, you wondered.

Yet again, you grew wary of the man before you.

“Why are you telling me all this?” You asked.

“Because I don’t want you to resent me for the death of your friend.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you asked defensively, “Why do you care what I think, gadjo?”

“Kai,” he corrected you and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, he disappeared again.

The scattered morning light filtered through the thicket and descended in brilliant pearls in the unshackled stream of water amidst the medley of the trinkets on your anklet, the ballads of songbirds, and gushing water hitting rubbled mass as you tiptoed deeper into the forest.

A firm grasp balanced you by your arm as you hopped over rocks to cross the stream.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re tailing me, gadjo.” You teased him.

“Here,” he thrust some peeled almonds in your hand as soon as you got to the other side. Smiling, he said, “eat up. These extraordinary tiny things will help with your poor memory.”

He walked ahead of you, guiding, as you both slipped further into the capricious forest.

“You leave only to come crawling back so soon, Kai?” Although you uttered his name almost derisively, you felt heat rising up your cheeks as it fell from your lips.

“You see? The almonds help.” He stated matter-of-factly.

You merely scoffed in response.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” He asked, retaining a casual tone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you bombarded him with your well thought out mental list of questions in response. The questions that had plagued your mind since your very first encounter with him.

“Where are you from, gadjo? Don’t you have a home? A... girl waiting for you?” You deliberately held on to his arm on the pretext of steadying yourself ...and his mind drew a blank.

I can’t remember anything before you.

You were about to say something more but then stopped short, retreating until your back hit the trunk of a tree. He followed and halted only at a hair breadth’s distance from you, towering over, as sunlight danced on his skin.

He breathed, “You tell me. Do I?”

“Hmm?” Brows quirked, you stared right back into his eyes as his head continued to lower slowly and you, despite yourself, started going up on the tip of your toes, his hand around your waist holding you steady.

“Do I have a girl,” he whispered, his index finger lifting your chin up, his warm breath tickling your face and his lips ghosting over yours, “waiting for me?”

Your eyelids drooped almost instinctively as the back of his fingers gently caressed the side of your face.

“Kai -”

He chuckled, swiftly scooping you up in his arms. You felt your whole body squint and your ears popped rather painfully. It wasn’t long before Kai’s feet found firm ground in a meadow full of beautiful plume thistles while you stayed burying your face in the crook of his neck, eyes firmly squeezed shut.

He gently put you down but your legs gave out. Feeling squeamish, you berated him, “Warn me the next time, yes?”

He pulled you in a tight embrace, panic betraying his voice, he asked, “Are- are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize!”

“How do you survive this at all? It’s- it feels terrible! I feel horribly queasy and my spine is trying to claw its way out of my back!” You argued aimlessly.

“One gets used to it.” He said softly as you lay on your back and he lied down next to you.

“Where are we?”

“We’re very close to Cluj-Napoca. Prince Jongin’s would-have-been kingdom.” His vague and casual tone was starting to vex you a little.

“Prince Jongin?” You enquired rather haughtily.

He answered, “Yours truly,” and bent his neck down in a bow.

“You - you’re a prince?”

He turned to face you and you excitedly followed suit. Tracing your jawline with his finger he whispered, “Not anymore. I mean - forget it, it’s a long story.” He sighed and turned his face to the clear blue skies again.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you urged him to continue, “I have all the time in the world.”

He took a moment to contemplate on your words and then his own before indulging you with a wistful smile on his face, “I turned out to be someone..something nobody expected out of me. More capable than the rightful heir, more popular with the people, more popular within the court, and more popular with the King himself.”

“Hmm...I’ll need a little more than that.”

Kai chuckled, his eyes crinkling into half moons again. “Three months ago, Cluj-Napoca was attacked by the Kingdom of Bucharest. My father - the King - was recovering from an affliction of the nerves at the time. Although I am not much of a fighter myself...well, I wasn’t trained to be one but what I lack in strength, I make up for in agility.. I led the army into battle and we managed to protect our territorial integrity and independence.”

Kai had been continuously fidgeting with the lace on his black tunic while narrating the story of his bravado, leaving you utterly astonished at the duplexity of his personality.

“So what went wrong?” You asked, studying him closely.

“The thing is I am not the King’s legitimate son,” he laughed and continued the story in a slightly higher pitch as if imitating someone, “I was born out of love, says my mother. I’m the son of a concubine.”

“But, if after everything, the King was in your favour then why did you leave?”

“He was toying with the idea of making my half-brother renounce his title. So before matters could get any worse for her son, the Queen asked me to ‘disappear into the night’ as compensation for not driving me to the streets when I was a mere boy.”

Aghast, you enquired, “So you just left?”

He simply shrugged and replied, “I am not built for a life of frivolity and merely keeping up appearances.”

“But what of your mother?”

“She’s not built for a life otherwise than of frivolity and keeping up appearances. Besides, she’s been offered an elevated position within the court by the Queen after my disappearance and she intends on keeping it. And as for my father...well, he thinks I’m a traitor who abandoned his own people. That’s why on the day that your clan was raided...I couldn’t think straight. The war with Bucharest has clearly taken a heavy toll on me...suffering of others is far beyond the level of my tolerance.”

“But what about your subjects? Tell me, how are you so casual about this?”

“You’re the daughter of the richest man in the clan. Why do you want to leave?”

“It’s not the same. Also, how do you know what I want? And- and don’t answer a question with a question. It’s annoying.”

He huddled closer to you and bragged, “It’s all in your eyes.”

“Enough, gadjo, this is not about me.” Your face flamed and your stomach was in knots in anticipation of his answer.

He let out a heavy sigh and replied, “Life is an adventure that is best lived boldly. I can go wherever I want, whenever I like. Why should someone like me bear the stifling burden of a crown when I can be...free.”

True to his character, Kai yet again appeared out of nowhere, took the heavy jute tote out of your hand and asked, “Don’t you have a handmaiden for these things?”

He was dressed entirely in black - dress shirt tucked into fitted trousers - and his face was covered with a sequined veil mask, leaving only his alluring eyes exposed. To say that you were not used to his abrupt appearances would be a gross understatement.

“I’m picking up some specific things for Vera’s mother...also, we’re in the middle of a bazaar, gadjo! You’re growing bolder by the day.”

“Lys, did you forget to take your almonds this morning?”

You scorned, “Do you have a death wish? If my brother sees you here... or the dragon... or..”

“Your precious fiancé?” He teased. “The one who’s..what was it again? Yes, the one who’s busy canoodling with the Bladerunner by the pond?”

Suppressing a grin, you gave him the side-eye and asked, “So you’re different, then? Better than Baekhyun?”

“Vastly! Tremendously! Immensely! Extremely!”

Shaking your head, you shot him an offhanded remark, “I don’t believe you.”

He immediately grabbed you by your wrist and dragged you inside what seemed like a dingy storage room for grains and pulses. Setting the bag down on the floor, he looked you in the eyes and roughly placed your hand on his chest.

”Don’t you think I’m different? Don’t you believe that I’m better? Don’t you understand I can make you happy? Truly happy?” He asked, his heart pulsing against your fingertips.

The overwhelming words you want to say...talk to me comfortably...I’ll listen to you...loosen the boundaries...I’m like you, too.

Eyes glistening, he pleaded, “Fly away with me.”

“No.” You stated plainly while your head and heart hammered wildly at the words he so bravely uttered and the ones he didn’t.

Brows knit together, his face scrunched in comprehension of your answer. “Why not?”

“It makes me squeamish.” You shrugged.

“Stop being funny.”

“You’re being funny. Whatever happened to you wanting to be free?”

“I don’t understand.”

Arms defensively crossed over your chest, you looked away from him and muttered, “You know what I mean -”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I didn’t mean I wanted to be free from you!” Kai’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he continued to argue, “Please don’t tell me you’re in love with the idiot you’re engaged to.”

“Of course not! It was just an arrangement to keep his loyalties with the family.”

“Then what is it?” He asked in his softest voice.

“I can hear the words you don't say, gadjo.” You bellowed, nearly throwing him back.

He shushed you before asking in a whisper, “So?”

“Isn’t it terrifying?” You struggled to keep your voice low at his very tempting yet terrifying proposition.

“On the contrary, in fact. I’ve never been good at putting my feelings into words. I say the things I don’t mean and freeze when I’m expected to say something. I’m easily misunderstood, Lys.”

“But everyone has secrets that they’d like to keep...secret. And from where I stand, you’re a man of too many secrets, gadjo.”

“And you’re the woman capable of unveiling them all. Look, I have nothing to hide and I don’t even want to keep anything from you. The rest,” he gulped hard before continuing, “is up to you. Think about it, would you rather be trapped in a loveless marriage? You’re the bravest woman I know, Lys. Don’t try to run away from truth.”

Ever since you’d met Kai, he was all you could think of. With him you felt safe and happy - the two emotions that had eluded you for the longest time. You wouldn’t dare to admit this to yourself but as frightening as it was, you also felt loved. All these years caught in an airless vortex, you felt like you could finally breathe - finally someone wanted you for who you were and not what you pretended to be - but something was still holding you back.

***

Kai’s words kept you up all night.

Eloping with him was a solution to all of your problems but it meant bringing shame to your family. You knew for a fact that you’d never be happy at the cost of their happiness. Sleep and answers eluding you, you scraped your hair up in a bun and threw a shawl over your shoulders to go see your father.

The fragrance of sandalwood mixed with liquor pervaded the air as you knelt beside his sleeping form. Age had started to prominently line his skin yet he looked a lot youthful without a scowl painted across his features. You planted a soft kiss on his forehead and the back of his hand, perennially struggling with your feelings towards him. He was your father, after all, and you couldn’t say that he never loved you. You only wished that he tried to understand you better.

“Dado,” you whispered against his hand, “I love you.” and broke down, sobbing quietly.

Suddenly, his disturbing thoughts came unravelled to you, filling you with unbridled rage and fear.

Fear for Kai’s life.

“You ice-veined monster...” You whispered against his hand before storming out of the tent.

“We have to stop seeing each other, gadjo.” Avoiding Kai’s eyes, you broke it to him as coolly as you could, caging a maelstrom of emotions within you.

“Would you stop calling me that? It’s cold and impersonal.” He took your hand in his as you both continued to trod lightly into the forest.

“And you’d like me to be warm...and personal..with a gadjo.. Because?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes at your remark but at this point you wanted nothing more than to save his life. When you grew to be so protective of Kai, you couldn’t tell but you knew you would do anything to save him from your vicious father. And to be able to do that, you needed him gone for good.

“Because I’m not just anyone. I am...” Breathing heavily, he pinned you to a tree.

Yours, roared his conscience. Unambiguously.

A welcome warmth seeped into your veins but you maintained a stoic demeanour. If he could hear your thoughts he’d take you away...far, far away from this stockade you called home. Tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back, spilled from your eyes as he lowered his mouth to meet yours in a deep kiss.

“We can’t be together, Kai.” Breaking the kiss, you pushed him away and sank to the ground, weeping.

Despite your protests, he carried you in his arms. Smiling, he nodded to gain your attention and trust before yelling, “Three…,” You engaged your core at “Two” and at “One” you felt a familiar uncomfortable knot in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s dark here.” You remarked, while still in the protective comfort of his arms.

“It’s night time in this part of the world, dragă.” He explained putting you down on your feet.

“Oh..you just called me -”

“I’ve been learning your tongue, iubirea mea.”

You were grateful for the darkness as it concealed just how smitten you were. Swiftly changing the subject, you asked, “Where are we?”

“Somewhere far, far away,” said Kai and you heard the smile in his voice, “at the edge of a crater of a volcano. But not to worry, it’s an inactive one.”

“How boring!” You teased, as he carefully sat you down.

A blanket of stars glimmered above as you and Kai cuddled closer to each other, enveloped in a cool breeze.

“Lys,” Kai’s eyes shone brighter than the stars as he turned to face you, “whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll work it out. My father once said that there is no problem so complex, nor crisis so grave that cannot be satisfactorily resolved within twenty minutes. And twenty minutes is all we have. Right?”

“I have to be back in time for -”

“For lunch, yes.”

“Let me tell you a story,” you said, and Kai lay down, resting his head in your lap.

“Go on,” he urged you, the tip of his index finger meeting your nose in a little pat.

With your hand on his forehead, you narrated, “There was once a couple who married for love, much against the wishes of the Elders of their village. Because of this, the newlyweds were driven out. They wandered for weeks without food and water, travelling far and wide, seeking shelter...and acceptance. One day they found,” you swallowed hard and Kai’s expression turned solemn. He gently caressed your face with his fingers, calming you down to help you continue, “they found us. Our clan, I mean and my father was Clan Leader at the time. The woman had grown fragile and sick and was in an urgent need of care but my father denied them shelter. ‘They’ve been expelled for a good reason,’ he maintained. He lacked the basic human decency to even offer them some food for sustenance. They camped outside the settlement, pleading with anyone and everyone who crossed paths with them...until...until the woman could take it no longer. She died in her sleep and the man vowed to annihilate all those who were responsible for her death - our clan included. The leader of the dacoits who brought you to the clan that day is the man in the story, Kai.”

Brows furrowed, Kai opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“My father - he - he recognized the man the day they stormed our settlement. And after everything, when he found you, it was like he’d struck gold. He was all set to incriminate you because our clan won’t rest until someone’s been punished. But truly - it’s all his fault. Had he not denied them refuge, the man wouldn’t have harboured resentment against us. Now he knows about us. He knows that you come to see me...he’s been keeping a close eye on us to be able to capture you at the right time. It won’t be long before he succeeds, Kai. So you must- I mean, we can’t -,” you huffed, “after all, I’m engaged to be married. Minseok and Yixing are going to pay Baekhyun a visit tomorrow to fix a date for the wedding.”

Biting on his lower lip, Kai contemplated on your words for a while before speaking again. “Seventeen minutes. I have a plan. Do you trust me?” He looked at you with mischief twinking in his deep, dark eyes and a smile teasing the edges of his lips. You replied with a hesitant nod.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” You said.

“Anything,” Kai said with a smile. He closed his eyes and placing your hand on his chest.

“You can be anywhere, everywhere and with anyone, yet-”

“Yet?”

“You know what I mean,” your voice trailed off.

“I can be anywhere and everywhere,” said Kai, cupping your face in his hands, “but I want to be by your side. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Don’t you see why it makes me upset when you say that we can’t see each other anymore? Don’t you see the irony? You can’t tell me that I can ‘port anywhere, except where I actually want to be. I love you, Lys.”

Looking straight into his eyes you said softly, “Love is a strong word.”

Brows quirked, he enquired, “Does it scare you?”

Your eyes glistened with tears as you responded, “As selfish as it may sound, I don’t want to bring dishonour to my family.”

“You won’t. I promise.”

“But what if your plan fails?”

“It won’t. And if at all it does, I’ll make sure you’re safe and sound. As for me, it’d be an honour to die for love.”

He loosened your fist open and placed a small china jar in your palm. You opened to find almonds in it. He grinned wide, and said, “Fresh ones.. in case you’d run out.”

If you loved Baekhyun you would’ve, without a doubt, stabbed the woman with the same knife that she sat polishing.

For the longest time you’d tried to hate her for being the object of your fiancé’s affections, admire her for her bravery, admonish her for her recklessness for if anyone were to ever find out… but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything for or against her.

Pivoting your attention to Kai’s best laid plan, chin up and voice firm, you said to her, “Show me your best blade.”

“What do you need it for?” She asked nonchalantly, entirely focused on the task at hand. Sure you’d grown softer since you’d met Kai but for her to not acknowledge a former Clan Leader’s presence fueled your anger.

You walked over to her and rested your hands on her shoulders, squeezing a little too harshly than you’d intended to. You wished she were thinking about anything other than Baekhyun but you weren’t surprised to find that she wasn’t.

“Lys!” She exclaimed, almost falling out of the little worn out wooden stool. She met your eyes, albeit with great difficulty.

Deliberately curling your lips into your best feature - a sinister smile, you whispered in her ear, “One that is good enough for carving a man’s heart out of his chest,” before tossing a piece of silver in her direction and strutting out with a navaja, a fighting knife.

***

“Do you have it?”

Kai appeared in your tent as you sat leisurely, snacking on peeled almonds.

“Solve a mystery for me. How do you always find me because I’ve never seen you wander in through the entrance panels. You just pop up out of nowhere.”

“We have an important task at hand.” He said, sitting down next to you, bearing the mannerism of an army general.

“No, I need to know. Now.”

Kai groaned at your unpredictable temperament and slapped his thighs.

“Alright, if you must know,” he said in a seductively low voice, leering at you as his nimble fingers drew circles along your foot. He slowly drew your skirts up with his other hand and you immediately smacked it down in protest.

“Fine,” he chimed. Letting out a sigh, he tugged at your anklet, “The sound of this has been burned into my memory. It’s how I find you everytime.”

“How very romantic. What if I were to take it off?” You asked playfully.

He tilted his head to the side, a hint of annoyance on his face. Firmly, he said, “Please, don’t.”

“Alright, alright!” You exclaimed at the sudden shift in his mood. “So what’s next?” You asked.

He removed an unassuming little vial from the pocket of his buckskin waistcoat and said, “This.”

You recognized the design of the vial - the opaque green glass bottle and its mouth closed with a black cork, “A spell?”

“The dragon’s wife is too trusting!” He exclaimed cockily.

“You went to see Bulibasha’s wife -”

“Assuming a disguise, of course!”

“Are you insane?!”

“Does it come as a surprise?”

“What did you tell her?!”

“I told her that this spell is the only way I can be with the one I love. And I wasn’t lying.”

“You really have a death wish, gadjo!”

“Kai!”

It took you a little while to calculate the risks of his audacity. Gaping at him, you finally spoke again, “Tell me what’s next. I have the blade.”

“Excellent.” He held the bottle up to your eye level and explained, “I’m going to sprinkle this on the Bladerunner when she’s on her way back home in the evening and her worst fears will come alive and start gnawing at her. And what do you think is her worst fear?”

“Losing Baekhyun.” You answered in a haughty disdain.

Kai chuckled. “Perfect. You said your brother and the dragon are going to visit your pretty little fiancé tonight? This spell will get the better of the Bladerunner and against her best judgement, she’s bound to go to see Baekhyun around the same time. The two men already have their suspicions about her and to catch her visiting Baekhyun at an ungodly hour will only reinforce their worst fears and this time they’ll not be able to wriggle out of it. Baekhyun and the Bladerunner will definitely be called into the dragon’s spine-chilling, morbid private chamber after that and a decision will be made.”

“What does that mean for us?” You asked, adrenaline making your blood quicken.

“Leave that to me. All you have to do is be there before they pronounce a decision and request a private audience with the dragon and your brother. And remember to,” he grabbed the navaja from your nightstand, its cutting edge reflecting the glint in Kai’s eyes. The corners of his mouth curled up, he quipped innocently, “use this well.”

The day unfolded exactly the way Kai had predicted.

Baekhyun and the Bladerunner had been called into Yixing’s private chamber at dawn. It was too early for the clan to start it’s day so you waited outside the tent just as Kai had instructed, listening closely for the right time to make an entrance. A loud and intense argument ensued between Minseok, Yixing, and Baekhyun - the three men who might as well be sworn brothers.

If you’d never met Kai, you would’ve thought that Baekhyun was being dramatic - fighting tooth and nail to save himself from heartbreak. It was a little selfish, you thought. Hearts mend, your father said to you when you had begged him not to put down your pet goat when she’d injured herself.

“But not without leaving a deep scar,” you muttered to yourself before barging into Bulibasha’s private chamber.

Seeing your father’s arrogant portrait next to the dragon’s in Yixing’s private chamber bolstered your bitterness towards him. Without another thought, you struck the portrait in its right eye with the navaja. That wasn’t what the knife was intended for but it was akin to killing two birds with one stone. As it went flying towards the portrait, it nicked the Bladerunner’s ear since she heroically pushed her lover out of harm’s way.

“Lys! You’ve ruined Father’s portrait!” Your dutiful big brother lambasted you.

Having dressed for the occasion in a red, black, and gold robes, and lips painted in a delicious scarlet, you walked with a deliberate swing in your hips, your dark, waist length hair emulating the movement. You allowed your fingernails to brush the Bladerunner’s arm as you sauntered over for the navaja under eagle-eyed stares.

With the knife in your hand, you came and stood before the Bladerunner, placed a hand on her cheek and whispered, “You have beautiful skin, Bladerunner. I’d hate to ruin it,” as you ran the edge of the navaja along her neck, pressing it just enough to leave her with a superficial cut. You were sure Baekhyun was bound to overreact, and he did.

He pulled you out of the way, standing like a barrier between the woman he loved and the one he tolerated. His firm grasp around your wrist was starting to hurt you but you maintained an unwavering demeanour. Your eyes landed on Baekhyun’s exposed sternum. It had been a while since you saw him without the basil necklace. The necklace was a testament of the promise you made to love and cherish each other forever but it was obviously no more than an accessory to him.

“Hand it over. It never looked good on you, anyway.” You whispered and extended your hand toward him. Without a word, he slapped the necklace into your palm. Your heart hammered widely against your ribs because things were going exactly the way they were supposed to but in your experience it was never a good sign.

You knew what Baekhyun was going to do next. The look in your eyes taunted and teased him until he finally snapped. Baekhyun grabbed the dagger from your hand amidst loud gasps from everyone present.

He’d done it.

One prevalent belief still held by the clan was that taking a knife straight from someone’s hand meant that the relationship between the giver and the recipient had been severed.

Baekhyun had finally severed his relationship with you. Despite the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, you smiled inwardly at Kai’s genius.

“Baekhyun! What have you done?” Yixing’s voice thundered, echoing loudly in everyone’s ears but the enormity of his action was clearly lost on the Baekhyun. He continued to plead, “If the Bladerunner is to be punished, Bulibasha, I deserve a harsher punishment. I don’t care what the Zakono says. You can’t go on acting like she was alone in this!”

Minseok seemed firmly rooted to his place as he shot daggers at Baekhyun, his cat-like eyes disapproving Baekhyun’s out-of-character rebelliousness.

Now’s the time, you thought to yourself before being the one to break the uncomfortable silence. “He seeks her when he’s upset. And even when he’s not.” You turned to bow before Yixing and appealed, “Bulibasha, I would like to request a private audience.”

***

An exhausted Yixing slumped to the floor with his back against his spectacular dragon portrait. Face buried in hands, he groaned, “You young people really know how to complicate matters.”

“I agree,” Minseok joined in the whining while pouring wine into three goblets.

“Yixing, you have to stop acting like we have decades between us. And Minseok, put that down! It’s too early in the day for wine! Tell me what you’d rather have me do. He’s been in love with the Bladerunner forever.” You tried reasoning with them but Minseok only shook his head indignantly at your words.

“Baekhyun can’t do this to us after everything our family’s done for him. We took him in, fed him, clothed him. This is not how he repays us!” Minseok exclaimed.

You couldn’t help but draw parallels between Kai and Baekhyun’s journey so far. While they didn’t have a lot in common, one thing was for sure. They’d forever been treated like outsiders in their own homes.

“Bulibasha -” You turned to plead with Yixing.

“This is a nice switch from Yixing for when you want to reprimand me to Bulibasha for when you need something from me.” Chastised Yixing, tilting his head to the side, expression blank.

Eyes downcast, you mumbled, “I don’t want to go ahead with the wedding.”

“The Lys I know would want revenge. The Lys I know would’ve asked for his head on a spike. And hers, too!” Yixing exclaimed.

“I’m just not the same Lys anymore. The both of you really need to stop trying to control everything and everyone around you. Minseok, you know we have better fighters now and we don’t really need Baekhyun anymore. And you can’t use me to keep him by your side forever. Besides,” you got up to fetch a goblet of wine for yourself, “forgive me but… i need some liquid courage before I -”

“Please don’t tell me you’re serious about the gadjo.” Minseok muttered nonchalantly, with blatant disregard for the surprise his statement had taken you with.

Steadying yourself by tightly gripping the goblet, you asked, “You know about him?!”

“Of course, I do!” Minseok exclaimed, “I mean, we do, Yixing and I both. You thought you’d disappear randomly and nobody would ever find out? The gadjo even procured a spell from the Clan Leader’s wife! It was foolish, if you ask me.”

You offered no further explanation and said instead, “Kai. It’s his name. You’d do well to remember.”

Fuming, Yixing bellowed, “Have you no shame, Lys? His people stormed our clan. We lost no fewer than eight lives that day! You lost Vera! Have you forgotten already?”

With no care in the world, you started to defend Kai, “I haven’t forgotten and I never will. But the monsters who raided us weren’t his people. He was just as surprised by it as we were. Whatever happened is Dado’s fault.”

It was Minseok’s turn to rebuke you, “Lys, I know you love to blame him for everything but this is a serious matter. You’re taking things too far.”

“No, Minseok, it honestly is!”

Minseok and Yixing listened carefully as you revealed to them the secrets your father had been harbouring and how it was his ruse to pin the blame of the raid on Kai. Neither of them spoke for quite some time, trying to assimilate the information you’d just shared with them.

“Lys,” said Yixing calmly, as Minseok sat with his hand over his head, “even if what you say is true, you know the Zakono does not permit you to marry a gadjo.”

“Bulibasha, say that I was snatched...taken...it’s better than saying that I ran away. I can’t bear to be here any longer.” You walked over to where your brother sat, shaken and furious. You took his hands in yours, looked into his eyes and cried, “Minseok, someone like me is not meant to be confined… I want to be out in the world, moving constantly, exploring, unearthing its marvels and wonders, its deepest ...the most well kept secrets, just- just living. I am begging you to let me live!”

“Lys, that’s enough!” Interrupted a new voice, bringing you a sudden surge of relief.

You turned around to find Kai in light-toned pink fitted trousers and a broad cummerbund around his slim waist that accentuated the elegant lines of his body. A relaxed chiffon and lace tunic in the same pale pink shade with flared sleeves that closed around his wrists was tucked into the cummerbund and his ebony hair fell in silken locks over his forehead.

He took confident strides towards Yixing, and stated with a sense of surety in his eyes, “If we wanted, we could’ve disappeared without a trace.”

“Get out, gadjo,” said Minseok in a dangerously low voice, “nobody needs you here.”

“The woman I love does,” answered Kai coldly, “so I will stay until she asks me to leave.”

Anger igniting his momentum, Minseok lunged forward and punched Kai in the chest with all the strength he could muster causing Kai to stumble several feet back.

“Look at him!” Spat Minseok as you rushed to Kai’s aid while he struggled to gain his bearings. “What a weakling! I cannot trust him to protect my little sister.”

Regaining your composure, you said to your brother in a threateningly calm voice, “Minseok...don’t make me say it.”

Minseok turned to you, face scarlet and eyes bloodshot. He demanded, “What is left to be said, Lys?”

Brows furrowed you looked him in the eyes as your heart threatened to leap out of your chest. “Father doesn’t have a lot of years left and... you know how bad it’ll be if word got out we were raided because of his misdeeds...the wrong decisions he made as Clan Leader.”

Minseok laughed darkly and shot you a disgusted look. “You’re right, Lys. You’re clearly not a child anymore. But what would you rather have me do, huh? Disrespect the Zakono? Give you away to a man who abandoned his own people? One who doesn’t have a place to call home?”

“Minseok, that’s enough,” commanded Yixing, causing Minseok to stop at once. Hands on hips, he continued, “Everyone has the right to choose their own destiny. And I’m sure you understand this better than I do, you can’t expect our headstrong Lys to change her mind easily especially when it’s set on something. We’ll let you have your way, Lys. But -” Yixing’s scrutinizing gaze met Kai’s kind eyes.

Yixing reached for the leather coffer which sat in an inconspicuous corner of the tent. You’d been to the private chamber multiple times for various reasons before but you’d never noticed the coffer. He crouched over it, rummaging for something specific. It was a few minutes before he rose to his full height again, a talisman in his hand, his face saying nothing in particular.

He split the talisman in two, fastened one half of it to a black thread and quietly tied it around your neck and gave the other piece to Minseok. The talisman was similar to the one he wore around his wrist. It was very much like a jade stone, flickering in various shades of green as if alive and breathing.

“The talisman will tell us where you are - at all times. It’ll turn red to signal us when you’re in mortal danger. If that is to ever happen, no matter where you are, you know I’ll find to you in no time. And when the light goes out - ” before the mood could turn somber, Yixing continued with a voice heavily laced with pride, “Don’t ever think about taking the talisman off. Well, the truth is, you couldn’t even if you tried. This thread has been strengthened by a number of powerful charms and spells..fashioned by my own wife.”

You responded only with an understanding nod, the realization that you were finally going to have it your way had not sunk in yet. Yixing and Kai shared a look before Kai walked over to him with a grave expression on his face. Yixing drew a dagger out the bandoleer strapped around his thigh and Kai placed his hand on the teakwood desk in the room.

“Make it quick, Bulibasha,” said Kai.

“What’s going on?” You whispered into Minseok’s ear.

Minseok sighed before responding in a clipped tone, “Proof that we fought for you when the gadjo was taking you away as revenge for the death of his dacoit friends. But the gadjo just.. vanished with you and all we managed to get was -”

Your conversation was interrupted by Kai’s muffled cry of pain as he collapsed at Yixing’s feet.

“- a little finger.”

In a state of blind panic, you rushed to be by Kai’s side, struggling to form words. You were aware that Yixing wouldn’t let you go without proof of Kai’s commitment towards you but you never imagined it would come to this.

“Take this,” Yixing held the mouth of a vial to Kai’s lips as he grappled with consciousness. Kai hurriedly gulped down the milk of the poppy which knocked him out almost immediately. While he was asleep, Yixing called for his woman to clean and bandage him.

***

You spent that time sitting next to a sulking Minseok.

Setting aside his pride, Minseok finally asked, “Will you atleast come visit?”

You rested your head on your brother’s shoulder and he instinctively huddled closer to pat it affectionately. “Every full moon, I promise,” you replied softly as a silent tear rolled down your cheek.

He pulled out a heavy drawstring pouch from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to you saying, “Keep this.”

You shook the purse in your hand until the coins jingled and then reprimanded Minseok, “Kai’s father is King for god’s sake! He can take care of me.”

“But I still want you to have it. I had so many dreams.. the wedding I’d planned for you..” said Minseok as tears sparkled like diamonds in his eyes, “please...keep it.”

You pulled your brother into a tight hug and sobbed, “Take care of yourself, always.”

“You’re a fine one to talk...eloping with a gadjo. Can’t say that I didn’t see this coming. Unconventional to the end, Lys.” He twisted your ear playfully while crying and laughing simultaneously.

“Let those idiots get married, Minseok, and set the fool who broke my heart free.”

“Lys -”

Pouting, you asked, “Won’t you do it for your darling sister?”

“Fine!” Minseok agreed begrudgingly, “Anything else, your highness?”

“Take care of Vera’s mother.”

“You know I already do,” said Minseok, flicking your forehead. “Promise me you’ll come visit? And you’ll always, always take care of yourself?”

You took Minseok’s hand in yours and pressed your lips to his knuckles, as his heart continued to weep.

***

It was nearly noon when Kai finally awoke.

You stood up as he walked over to you with a marked confidence in his demeanour like his little finger wasn’t carved out of his body just a few hours ago. He wrapped his arms around your waist, while Yixing and Minseok watched uncomfortably, and rested his forehead against yours.

With your hand on his chest you asked Kai, “Are you alright?”

“Never been better. You look like a bride, iubirea mea,” he said, holding you closer, tighter as his hands travelled the length of your back.

“Shall we?” He asked, lowering his head to press his lips against yours. He deepened the kiss and you responded with equal fervour as he lifted you off your feet, twirling you in his arms until you felt a familiar, intense drop in your stomach, one you’d soon have to get used to.

‘Cause I’m too wicked I want to take all of your heart Don’t you worry So soon, you have my world

You make me feel so Mm-mhm..

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

hello @diveinthebluewithyou this one’s for you...welcome to Romaniverse!! hope you enjoy <3

79 notes · View notes

lotusss-flowerbomb · 5 years ago

Text

Liberator

Bucky x reader

Warnings: Smut, cream pie eating, cum swapping

A/N: My sis @bluestarego randomly came up with an idea for this chaise and her ideas are literally the bomb, so of course I had to write it. There is unprotected sex in this story. Remember, this is fiction, so in real life package the meat before a beat. Hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count: 4.7k [My baaaddd]

********

"Ayo, tin man, where you going?" Sam asked Bucky when he saw him grabbing his jacket.

"To the bookstore. I'm tired of sitting here." He hurried to the door.

"Hold on, I'll tag along this time. Maybe we can finally look at some furniture for this place. We'll be here for at least another four months." Sam laced his shoes and followed him out.

Bucky and Sam had been undercover on this mission 3 months and counting. Nobody seemed to notice them in the small southern town. Either that or no one really cared.

Sam had been going on and on about getting furniture for the house to be more comfortable, but Bucky knew he was full of shit. Tony had given them a bunch of cash and he just wanted to shop.

"You know, you've been down to this bookstore everyday this week... What's her name?" He inquired.

"What?" Bucky tried to keep from smiling, but it was almost impossible whenever he thought about you.

"Yeah okay, you can pretend if you want. She'd better be cute or I'm gonna clown you. Does she know you're half robot?"

"Sam..."

"Relax, I'm kidding," he laughed.

When they pulled into the lot, the men jumped out, but before Sam could open the door Bucky stopped him.

"Please do not embarrass me." He said seriously.

"Man, move, you do enough of that on your own," Sam brushed past him.

"Welcome! I'll be up shortly," you yelled from the back.

You put away the stack of papers that you were going through and exited the small office.

"Hi, how may I — oh, Mr. Stan, how are you today?" You smiled.

"Please, call me Sebastian," he smiled. "I'm good, how are you?"

You heard some books hit the floor. When you both looked over there, Sam was clutching a rack trying to keep it from falling completely over.

"Guess I should go help with that. Be right back," you walked off.

Bucky rolled his eyes. He made busy pretending to look for a new book, but he was having a hard time ignoring your laughing at all of Sam's lame jokes. He finally walked over.

"Are you done tearing up the store?" He asked.

"I've already apologized to the lady, Mr. Stan," he teased.

"Do you have any new recommendations for me today?" Bucky asked, completely ignoring Sam.

"Oh, yeah, I was telling Anthony about this new thriller we got in today. The author is pretty new to the scene, but this will definitely put her on the map. I had a chance to read it before the book was officially released." You handed him one of the books from the rack.

"But this is new, so I can't rent it."

"I won't tell if you won't," you winked and walked away.

"Are you gonna ask her out?" Sam asked.

"Are you insane?" He rolled his eyes and followed behind you.

He handed you the book to check out. He liked your store, because it was a little different from any bookstore he was used to. You sold books, but you also rented the older ones. New books couldn't be rented for six months, but you were always willing to do buybacks for the ones in good condition.

"Oh, I remember you telling me that you were looking for new recipes. I thought you might like this," you grabbed a cookbook, scanned it and then handed it to him.

"That's nice, maybe he could whip something up for you," Sam patted his shoulder.

Bucky gave him another murder glare.

You laughed at his expression.

"Don't worry, Mr. Stan, it's fine if you don't want to."

"No, it's not that I don't want to —"

"So you do?" You cut him off.

"I uhh…" he ran his fingers through his hair. "Give me two days to find something that I think you'll like."

"Your phone?" You held out your hand.

He handed it to you and you put your number in and gave it back to him.

"So I'll see you Saturday?" You gave him his bag.

"Yeah, I'll see you Saturday," he confirmed. "But only if you promise to call me Sebastian."

"Promise," you chuckled.

You waved goodbye to the two men and watched them leave. You waited until they were in the car and pulling out of the lot before you picked up your phone and called your best friend.

"You'll never guess who I have a date with this Saturdayyyy," you sang.

"Is that weird guy who wears a leather jacket and gloves even though it's hot outside?" She said sarcastically.

"Yes!" You replied giddy and undeterred by her sarcasm. "You have to help me find something to wear. I also need you to do my nails please?"

She was quiet for a moment and then she bit out, "Fine, but I think he's weird and if he tries anything you'd better not hesitate to pepper spray him."

"He's not weird. He's just different and I'm ready to find out what it is."

Sam and Bucky walked through the furniture store. Bucky didn't know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew he wanted it to be nice for when you came over.

He felt like every piece he liked looked really old. He may have been 100 years old, but he didn't have to let you know that.

His eyes were suddenly drawn to this odd looking chair. It was red leather with a high sloped back, a deep arc in the middle and the bottom was low with a slope. He read the tag; Liberator: $400, but who cares? Tony could afford it.

"You thinking about getting this?" Sam asked, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

"What do you think? You think this is something she'd like? Should we get a few of them for the front room?"

"Nah, this should go in your room. I think she'll like it. She's young and this is a very modern piece of furniture." He advised.

Bucky decided to trust Sam for once. He told the salesperson that he wanted that chaise. The poor girl's face turned a bright red and she was unable to look at him. He didn't pay too much attention to it, he was used to people shying away from his presence.

The guys picked out the rest of the furniture and headed home. Bucky noticed that Sam was giggly. More so than normal.

"What are you so happy about?" He asked.

"Nothing man, a guy can't just feel joy? It's a good day, Buck, we finally got some furniture. You got a really nice chair. I'm happy." He tapped on the dashboard.

"Why'd you bring up the chair?" Bucky squinted at him.

"Because it's a nice chair. I like the chair. You know I'm all about relaxation."

Bucky let it go. If he hated the chair once it was delivered, he'd simply return it. No big deal.

Bucky put the final touches on the meal he'd chosen to prepare for you. He garnished the plates, set them on the table and wiped his hands on the apron he was wearing.

The doorbell rang. You were right on time. He gave the table a once over before coming to the door.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Hello there," you said.

He just stood there and looked at you from head to toe. The white lace dress you wore hugged you perfectly at the top and flared at the waist.

"Can I come in?" You asked, tearing him away from his thoughts.

"Oh, yes, sorry. You look beautiful," he said as he walked you to the dining area.

"So do you. I think the apron is my favorite part," you teased.

He looked down and quickly removed the apron from around his waist. He blushed a little. You smiled at how cute he was.

He pulled your chair out and pushed it in once you sat down and then took his seat.

" It smells wonderful."

"Thank you, I tried something new tonight."

Truthfully, everything was new for him. Bucky never did any of the cooking. That was usually Sam's thing. He only got the cookbooks to suggest things, but tonight he gave it try for you.

You took a bite and tried to keep from gagging. You saw Bucky take a bite and immediately swallow. He didn't bother chewing it anymore.

You took a sip of wine after you were finally able to swallow.

"It's terrible," he said.

"No, it's not bad at all," you absolutely lied.

"I'll order us a pizza," he said and took your plate away.

You just smiled at him. You didn't have the heart to tell him the food was gross, because he tried and that's what counts.

You moved to the living room and he turned on the TV while you waited for the pizza. You noticed that he still wore a glove on his left hand and was sure to keep it away from you. You figured he was just a little shy about having a prosthetic arm.

Once the pizza arrived, you put on some quirky movie and ate your dinner.

"I'm sorry about this. I should've practiced the recipe a little more."

"What? This is perfect," you told him.

You talked with him a little. He told you that he grew up in Brooklyn. How he and Sam were college roommates and started a contracting business together.

You clung to his every word and listened without interrupting.

"So, are you gonna give me a tour of the house?" You ask.

"Oh, sure," he says. He slips your shoes off of your feet before walking with you hand in hand to the stairs.

"It's not much, but this is our office space, that's Sam's room, bathroom and this is my room." He pointed.

You flipped the switch on in the room. You were shocked and quickly walked over to the red leather chaise.

"You don't strike me as the type to have one of these," you ran your fingers over the cool leather.

"Oh, yeah, I thought it was a very nice modern piece of furniture to have. Um, Sam actually talked me into it."

"Did he now?" You smirked.

"If you hate it, I can move it out of here. I won't force you to look at it," he rubbed his neck.

"Come here," you reached out for him.

He gave you his hand and you told him to sit down on the chair. You straddled his lap and moved your hips in a circular motion until you felt him getting hard. He rested his right hand on top of your ass and laid his head back.

He had been so focused on his work that he'd forgotten how much he missed the feel of a woman. You leaned in close and put your lips to his ear.

"Undo my dress," you whispered.

He reached up and pulled the string of the bow ties on your shoulder. The thin material fell down and exposed your breasts. Your nipples immediately pebbled from the cool air.

You scooted back a little and pulled at his shirt.

" No," he grabbed your hands, "I um, maybe we shouldn't."

"What's wrong?" You quiz.

"Nothing, it's just that I…" He was lost for words. He didn't know how he would explain his arm without you freaking out.

"Sebastian, I don't care that you have a prosthetic arm or hand. Whichever you hide under these long sleeved shirts and gloves."

He inhaled and pressed his forehead to your chest. He was nervous. Now he remembered why it had been so long since he'd had a relationship or sex.

"Hey," you lifted his head, "it's okay, we don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable." You kissed his lips.

You felt his body relax as he exhaled slowly. First, he took off his glove. You ran your fingers over the shiny black metal. You then lifted the shirt a little, this time he didn't stop you. You pulled it over his head and tossed it aside.

You lightly dragged your fingers down his neck until you reached where the metal connected to his shoulder. You traced your fingers over the lines of gold, before moving back to his scar.

"It's connected to you, so is it fully functional?" You were curious.

"It is," he replied.

"That's pretty cool. The doctors must've put a lot of work and thought into this."

"Yeah, much better than the first one I had after the war," he blurted.

"Oh, you're a vet?"

"Uh, yeah," he said after realizing his mistake.

"What was your rank?"

"Sergeant…"

"Well, thank you for your service and sacrifice, Sergeant." You pressed your lips to his.

He slipped his hands underneath your dress and squeezed your ass. The cool metal of his hand made your pussy clench.

He slid a finger down your ass until he reached your folds. He rubbed your clit in a circular motion over the fabric of your thong. He moaned into your mouth when he pulled it aside and felt how wet you were getting.

You broke the kiss, stood, unzipped his pants and pulled them down. His hard dick popped up and was at full attention.

"Sss, ooh," you hissed as you wrapped your hand around him.

Bucky laid back and closed his eyes. Your hands felt so good on him. You spit on his dick and rubbed it all around making sure it was coated.

You lined him up with your opening before slowly sinking down on him.

"Shit!" He had to brace himself and fight a mental battle, so that he wouldn't cum at this very moment.

You were trying your best to take all of him, but he was stretching you wide and the pain was almost too much.

Once he was able to get himself together he grabbed your hips and thrust into you. He pulled your dress over your head, so it wouldn't be in the way.

You rolled your hips slowly and sped up as the pain turned into pleasure. You braced yourself on the balls of your feet and held to the head of the chair as best you could.

"Bounce on this dick," he smacked your ass.

You bounced up and down while he sucked a nipple into his mouth. He used his right hand to rub your clit.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you warned him.

"Don't." He said and continued to rub.

"Sebastian, I —"

He grabbed you by the throat, "I said, no," he stuck his tongue in your mouth and continued to drive his hips upwards.

He waited until you were right on the edge of your climax and then lifted you up. Your first instinct was to rub yourself to completion, but he stopped you.

"I'm the only one who touches you from now on. Understand?"

You nodded, but he wasn't satisfied. He wanted to hear you say it.

"Yes, I understand," you said as you moved back, so he could stand.

"Good, girl," he pulled you close to him and kissed you.

He sat you down at the foot of the chair and dropped to his knees. You spread your legs wide and watched while he admired your pussy. Running his fingers up and down your slit.

"Can I taste you?"

"Yes," you moaned and laid back.

Bucky sucked your clit into his mouth and licked you in circles. He was using his tongue to apply just the right amount of pressure to your clit.

"You taste so good," he said. He spit on your pussy and rubbed it before sticking two fingers inside of you.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and curled his fingers a little.

"Ah! Fuck!" You screamed as you felt an orgasm building.

He could feel you contracting around his fingers. Once again he kept going until you were almost there, then he pulled his fingers out and stopped sucking.

"Why? Please!" You begged.

"Ooh, that was only the second one and you're already begging? It's gonna be a long night, baby girl." He teased.

He pulled you to the edge a little more, rubbed the head of his dick up and down your slit and then slid inside of you.

You rolled your nipples in between your fingers while he fucked you. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. He'd wanted to feel you for so long. Ever since the day he wandered into your store and laid eyes on you.

He pulled out of you and turned you on your stomach. This time switching his pace. He spread your ass cheeks apart and rolled his hips slowly as he watched his dick disappear inside of you.

"Fuck!" He moaned as he felt himself losing control once again.

He watched as you clawed at the chair. He could feel your pussy getting tighter and tighter.

"Can I cum? Can I —" you were cut off by your own moans. Your body didn't wait for permission.

He felt it. Your pussy gripped him tight and he exploded inside of you. His hips jerked as he gave you every last drop.

He pulled out and dropped to his knees behind you.

He smacked your ass, "Give it to me, push it out," he demanded.

You pushed the cum mixture from your pussy and was shocked when you felt his mouth on you sucking it out. No man you'd ever been with had been so bold or comfortable.

Once he was satisfied, he stood and turned you around to face him. He squeezed your cheeks together, so you'd open your mouth. You stuck your tongue out ready for what he was about to give.

You were so fucking turned on, you grabbed his hand and slipped his fingers back into your pussy.

He spit the cum into your mouth and then kissed you. Swirling his tongue around yours as he fingered you to another quick orgasm.

He looked at his cum coated fingers and then licked them clean. You couldn't resist kissing him again and tasting yourself on his tongue.

Bucky picked you up and carried you over to the bed. You didn't want to let him go, but you finally gave in. He walked to the bathroom and came back to clean you up and then himself.

He got in bed with you and laid his head on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair. So many nights he'd thought about this moment. So many nights he'd thought about just being closer to you. He wished he could stay with you forever.

He sighed.

"What's wrong?" You asked him.

He sat up and looked at you, he wanted to tell you the truth, but he knew that he couldn't. It would put you in danger and he couldn't risk it.

"Nothing, everything is perfect," he smiled.

"You have beautiful eyes, they remind me of someone, but I have never been able to quite put my finger on it."

"Thank you," he kissed you again and turned away.

You played with his hair until he fell asleep and then you slipped out quietly.

You were opening boxes and getting ready to stock a rack of magazines. You'd been doing well with keeping them out of the store, but a few of the teenagers kept asking and you finally caved. You let them know that you drew the line at tablets and that they were absolutely out of the question.

You flipped through one of the fashion magazines and came across an article about Earth's mightiest heroes. You were skimming the article when you heard a knock at the door. You looked up to see Bucky waving at you. He was holding a cup holder with two coffees and a bag of donuts.

"Hey," you greeted him.

He returned your greeting with a soft kiss. You didn't think you could ever get tired of those kisses.

"Doing some stocking?"

"Yeah, I was taking a break and reading this article. I finally ordered some magazines for the kids," you picked it up and thumbed through the pages.

Then he caught your eyes. There he was stretched across the page. The photo had a blue and purple tint to it and his hair was long, but it was most definitely him.

"You're Bucky Barnes," you said in disbelief.

"What?" He seemed startled by your words.

"This is you!" You shoved the magazine in his face. "I knew that you looked familiar. A freaking superhero?! You lied to me, Sebastian — Bucky, whatever your name is!"

"No, it's not like that, I couldn't tell you." He tried to explain. "I'm on a mission. Sam and I, we're undercover."

"Oh, you're on a mission, so get with a local to blend in a little better? Ugh! I knew you were too good to be true." You paced back and forth.

"No, that's not true," he grabbed you, "my feelings for you are completely real."

You squinted at him, "Get off of me and get out, because you'd still be lying to me if you'd never gotten caught." You pushed him away and walked into your office slamming the door behind you.

Bucky picked up the box of magazines and took them. If you recognized him someone else would too. He couldn't take that chance.

He knew doing that stupid photo shoot would backfire. He didn't want to do it, but Steve and Sam talked him into it, because it was for a good cause. He knew they'd have to speed up their plans.

He called Sam as he headed back to the house and let him know that they had to move in on the targets sooner rather than later.

You came out of your office once you were sure Bucky was gone. You looked around to see that he had taken the boxes.

"Great now he's a liar and a klepto," you rolled your eyes.

You heard the bell on the door and turned around thinking it was Bucky again, but it was just one of the people who ran the laundromat a few doors down.

"Oh, hey, Austin," you looked at your watch, "is something wrong? You know I'm not open yet."

He didn't say anything. He just kept stalking towards you. Your fight or flight kicked into gear and you made a dash for the door. He reached out and grabbed you, but you kneed him in the balls to escape.

You didn't get very far before you were grabbed from behind. They put a bag over your head and threw you into the back of a car where they zip tied your hands in front of you.

"Let me go! What do you want?!" You kicked and screamed.

"Keep it up and I'll gag you… Maybe even with my cock," you heard one of them chuckle.

You immediately calmed down. Last thing you wanted was that.

"Please, if you want money you'll have to take me back to the store. I keep it in the safe."

"Shut up, we won't tell you again." Austin said.

"Austin, please tell me why you're doing this?"

"Because your little boyfriend needs to be taught a lesson. Him and his friend have been causing trouble and it's bad for business. Unfortunately, sweetheart, you're collateral damage."

They drove you for almost 20 minutes before they dragged you from the car and into a building. They took you inside, sat you down and bound you to a chair.

"Call your boyfriend," one of his henchmen ordered.

"How exactly am I supposed to do that with my hands tied, genius?" You sassed.

He reached into your pocket and pulled up his name. You could hear the line ringing.

"Can you at least take the bag off of my head?" You requested.

Bucky was fuming. He and Sam had followed the rest of Austin's gang to this warehouse. But when Austin himself pulled in, he had you.

He thought it was odd that they were all coming out here, but now he sees that this is a set up. His phone was vibrating in his pocket. It was a call from you.

He accepted the call and sat his phone down to look through his scope.

"You can either let her go right now or I will kill every single one of you." He said calmly.

"Sebastian," you cried.

"It's okay, baby girl, I got you," he hung up.

He let off two shots taking out the men who stood guard at the door. He took down the others as they came running from the building.

"I'm in position," Sam said into his comms.

Bucky jumped down from the tree he was in and moved in. He hoped you were safe. He never meant for this to happen to you.

You heard the shots. They were so loud and it seemed like all hell broke loose after. The men around you started shouting and then you heard the door slam.

You rocked from side to side in the chair until it tipped over. You tried your best to get loose, but nothing was helping. You started to panic as the gunshots were getting closer.

Fear and adrenaline took over and your ears began to ring. It seemed like the bag was keeping you from breathing as you started to hyperventilate.

You started screaming when you heard the door get kicked open. You could feel the person cutting the tape away. You were gonna fight this time. They wouldn't get the opportunity to take you somewhere else. They'll kill you for sure.

Once your hands were free you started swinging.

"Stop!" Bucky yelled. "It's me—"

You punched him in the eye. He could barely get a grip on you, but when he finally did, he snatched the bag off.

"Y/N! It's me, calm down." He hugged you.

You relaxed into his hold and sobbed into his neck.

"They were gon-gonna kill m-me," you stuttered.

"I never gave them the chance. You're safe now."

Weeks had gone by and nobody spoke a word about Austin or his mysterious disappearance. In fact, people seemed to celebrate the fact that he was gone.

He'd been running a drug operation through the town and using his business as a front. Apparently, he had ties to Hydra, which is why Sam and Bucky were brought in to shut him down.

You were back at your store and business resumed as normal. Bucky had left the same night of the incident. He didn't even say goodbye. He was too ashamed to face you.

You heard the bell above the door and looked up from your phone. Your heart skipped a beat when those blue eyes stared back at you.

"Hey," he waved.

"I'm busy," you said and tried to walk away.

"Wait, please," he grabbed your arm, "please?" He asked a little softer.

"I'm mad at you, you didn't even say goodbye!"

"I know and I should have, but I was a punk and I want to make it right." He pleaded.

"You have two minutes," you crossed your arms.

He lifted you up on the counter and stood in front of you. It was very dramatic.

"I'm James, but my friends call me Bucky. I'm 103 years old, but I spent most of those years frozen and brainwashed. I really did lose my arm in the war, but it was world war 2. I'm from Brooklyn and my favorite food is pizza." He said. "Oh and I fought in two alien wars, although it felt like only one, because I died in the first one and when I woke up 5 years had passed."

"Hi, Bucky, nice to meet you."

You pulled him in for a passionate kiss. He pulled away and pressed your forehead to his.

"I'm sorry," he said.

He helped you down and watched you lock the front door and switch your sign to closed.

"If you're really sorry, you'll make it up to me," you grabbed his hand.

He scooped you up and carried you to your office. He'd absolutely make it up to you with no problem.

@titty-teetee

@bluestarego

@literaturefeen

@fandomfavesss

@angrythingstarlight

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes #Sebastian Stan #Smut #marvel smut #Avengers #marvel fanfic #avengers fic #Lotusss Writes

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scullydubois · 4 years ago

Text

Only the Light Ch. 20

I now present to you a chapter that is filled with more angst than Chris Carter could ever dream of, and for that, I am truly sorry.

Scully and Mulder's foray into domesticity with Emily is interrupted by the past catching up to them. Faced with despair, they cling even tighter to each other.

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

Scully is granted maternity leave, though it’s only for two weeks, which Missy let her know is “a piss-poor bargain.” And she knows this is true, but she also has more incentive to stay at her job than ever, so she’d like not to lose it. The fact that advocating for herself and her child would mean risking her job is a mess in itself, but one lone woman can’t be expected to take down the patriarchy, and besides, she’s already tried and failed.

As for she and Mulder, they hide their flirtation in plain sight. Mulder’s perpetually present in body or spirit, but his behavior never reveals anything more than it did before. Every morning he swings by to say hi, brings Scully coffee and a bagel with full-fat cream cheese, and checks if Emily’s picked up any new words. Personally, he’s working on “alien” and if you ask him, she’ll get it soon. She knows that it refers to her UFO stuffie, so sounding out the letters can’t be far behind, much to her mother’s dismay.

On Wednesday of the first week, he shows up at 6pm with takeout carbonara from a local Italian joint. His presence makes every Scully girl happy, but it makes one in particular the happiest, and Melissa realizes that there are definitely things her sister has failed to mention. She doesn’t question it, but watches with glee as the situation unfolds.

After that first night, Mulder keeps coming back with dinner and refuses to let either sister shoulder the cost. On Friday, he stays for a movie too and gets to participate in Emily’s nightly tucking-in ritual (a tickle on the left foot, a tickle on the right foot, and a big smooch on the forehead).

Saturday afternoon, he joins them for a stroller push through the park, earning some serious side-eye from Scully when he suggests that they stop at the playground because, according to the mama bear, “Em can only take six steps at a time, Mulder.” So instead they buy hotdogs from a vendor and eat them on a bench, Emily sandwiched between her mother, her aunt, and her...Mulder. They couldn’t ask for more.

That night, Mulder hangs around after dinner because what else is he gonna do? Go home and watch old baseball games until he falls asleep? A new leaf has been offered to him, and he’s gotta turn it.

He’s baffled when, upon announcing that it’s Emily’s bathtime, Scully goes to the kitchen and switches on the sink.

Scully raises an eyebrow at him. “What, your mother never washed you in the sink when you were a baby?”

“Not that I know of...I have a hard time envisioning myself ever fitting in a sink.”

Scully scoffs. “I forget. You were a Vineyard boy.”

Before he can come up with a smart response to that (as if there actually is one), Missy pipes up. “Oh, I bet you were the kid that took baths with your mother,” she teases. “Care to confirm or deny?”

“If I did I blocked it out of memory, thank god,” he testifies.

Having spread a towel on the counter, Scully strips Emily down and perches the girl on her hip. She sticks her hand under the faucet.

“That’s not too hot, do you think?” she asks Missy, who tests it as well.

“That should be fine.”

Mulder joins in too, and immediately regrets it. He shrinks away from the water, shaking droplets all over the room. “Jesus, Scully! Are you trying to boil her?”

“Babies lose heat quickly because of their body surface to weight ratio,” she says matter-of-factly. “They’re more susceptible to the cold.”

“I think the cold will be the least of her worries,” Mulder quips.

“If you really think it’s too hot, I’ll turn it down…” There’s a concerned crease beneath her eyes, and it makes Mulder feel bad about his joking.

“No, no, you know what you’re doing,” he assures her. “You’re her mother.”

As she lowers Em into the sink, Scully’s heart twinges. Her. A mother. How many times will she have to hear this before it stops feeling like news to her?

One week and bathtime has already become routine. Missy fills a plastic cup and pours it gently over her niece, the water cascading down Em like she is nature’s own. Scully soaps her palms, then glides over her daughter’s skin with such care that its memory may blight any future affection Em is graced with. And then another waterfall, and the gentle brush of a wash cloth against eyes and nose.

Scully squeezes a penny’s worth of baby shampoo into her hand, looks to Mulder. “Come on, get in here. You’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?” she says with a smirk.

He smirks back and shakes his head as she lifts his open palm and shrinks her accumulation to a dime. “Although, technically I am getting my hands cleaner…”

She boops him right on the nose with a shampooed finger. He laughs.

Missy smiles. Oh, to see destiny play out right in front of you. “Someone’s cracking dad jokes,” she points out, unable to resist. This observation is much too on-the-nose for the pair (quite literally for Mulder), who simultaneously blush but say nothing.

Mulder wipes the shampoo from his nose and plants it on Emily’s head, joining his partner in making soapy circles over the girl’s tuft of strawberry hair. Scully’s full attention is directed toward her daughter. As soon as the lather is sufficient, she dons the lifted lilt of motherhood. “Okay, time to rinse! Missy, will you do the honors?”

Missy turns the faucet, fills the cup, and lets it flow over Emily. Mulder and Scully wash their hands off in the stream.

And as Scully leans for the towel, a splash of red dirties its fresh white surface. Mulder notices it first. He points at his partner’s porcelain face. “Scully, you’re bleeding.”

Her hand shoots to her nose. Sure enough, it stains her fingers. “Shit.” She turns away, goes for a tissue. “I haven’t had nosebleeds since I was fourteen,” she tells them, as if that invalidates this one. She wipes away a glob of blood, her stomach turning. “Missy--” her voice shakes involuntarily, “--will you dry Em off?”

“Uh-huh.” She nudges Mulder. “Will you grab a new towel from the linen closet?” she whispers, not wanting to further upset her sister.

Mulder goes off without a word, and Missy squeezes out Em’s hair as best she can. “What a pretty girl!” she gushes. “All clean!”

“Yee!” Emily throws her little fists in the air, injecting joy back into the room.

“Time to put your PJs on, and get a tickle, tickle, smooch.”

Mulder scrambles back in with a new towel, skirting around Scully, who remains occupied with her own situation. He slides the soiled towel away and helps Missy swaddle Em. Mulder ruffles the little girl’s hair, and she laughs like a music box.

“Mol-dy.” She spits it out in halves, as if she’s been rehearsing.

Mulder’s eyes water with recognition. “Mulder? Mul-der? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Moldy,” the girl declares again, certain of herself.

Missy adjusts Em on her hip, smiles at Mulder. “Looks like you’re Moldy now.”

Mulder bites his lip to hide his overwhelming delight. “Yeah, I...I never thought I'd be so happy to be called moldy.”

Next thing he knows, Scully is at his shoulder with a tissue stuffed up her nostrils. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Em called me Moldy,” he tells her, full of satisfaction.

“Oh.” It comes out relatively unimpressed, but really, she’s just distracted. “Missy, will you get a diaper on her before there’s an accident? I would but I’m still--” She gestures to her nose.

“Yeah, yeah.” Missy smiles at the baby in her arms. “PJ time, Em!” They go off toward the bedroom, a happy pair.

As soon as Em is out of sight, Mulder spirals toward his partner, panic-stricken. The glee of moments ago has evaporated.

“Are you okay?” He touches her hair, shoulders, and the familiar small of her back, unsure of where he should land.

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” Her grip on his elbows--keeping his hands firmly placed on her waistline--suggests otherwise.

“You’ve got to see a doctor,” he pleads. “This could be...”

“This could be what, Mulder?” The steel in her blue eyes is a death grip. She’s never liked being told the obvious.

“Scully…” He sighs, rubs his neck, wills her to say what they both know. When she doesn’t, he takes his hands off her and wrings them together. “The Mufon women...they said it would happen to all of them eventually.” He’s careful not to lump Scully in with their group.

“And what do they know?” she retorts. “One of them was sick. One.”

“Okay, well, don’t you think it’s better to be safe than sorry?” he reasons. “You have Emily to look out for now.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “Don’t guilt trip me. It’s a nosebleed. Those happen all the time for completely benign reasons.”

“Yeah, but they don’t happen to you. You just said--you haven’t had one since you were fourteen.”

She clenches her jaw. He’s right, and she’s playing the fool. His position is the one she would take if this were anyone other than herself. She’s gonna have to lose this fight with as much grace as possible.

“Fine. I’ll get it checked out, but they’re gonna think I’m insane for coming in because of one nosebleed.”

“That’s a nice change of pace--you being the insane one for once.”

“Well, you’re the one who wants me to go, so you’re not out of the woods.”

“Good, I’ve finally got some company!”

Scully smiles in spite of herself. “Yes, yes you do.”

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

It happens very quickly, as most calamities of life can be said to. This gives it the unreal quality of a nightmare that might soon be woken up from, if there is any justice in the world.

Scully snags a doctor’s appointment for three days after the initial nosebleed. By the time she walks into the waiting room, one nosebleed has quadrupled into four, and her minor concern has snowballed into abject terror.

Margaret Scully drove into the city to watch Emily so Missy could join her sister. Scully insisted that she would go alone, but Missy wouldn’t accept this. She threatened to tell Mulder the details of the appointment if Dana didn’t let her go, and that was enough to earn her a spot in the passenger seat. Scully can’t take the thought of Mulder witnessing the worst--let alone her reaction to the worst.

And so it goes something like this: they are taken to an exam room, at which point Scully explains her situation to a nurse, including that she has recently learned she is at high risk for cancer. The nurse assures her that such a diagnosis is highly unlikely, but makes a note for the doctor. The doctor comes in with knitted eyebrows and listens to Scully describe the aftermath of her abduction experience with a heavy emphasis on the convoluted but substantial claims of the Mufon women. She asks if Scully has had any other symptoms, to which Scully replies that it’s hard to tell because she has an infant in the house and thus, a marked lack of sleep.

The doctor laughs, but it’s not a haha laugh, more of an I feel your pain. She agrees that the women’s claims are concerning, but tells her patient not to fret. They’ll take all the precautions, run any test that might assuage her worries. There’s a quip about how it’ll be on the government’s dime since it covers Scully’s insurance, and then the doctor leaves to order an MRI.

A full body MRI, which Scully has never had, and which she hoped she would never require. There’s no deeper sickness than one that cannot be pinpointed, and no greater fear than of the unknown turning into the worst case scenario.

The MRI is completed that same day. As she slides into the machine, Scully thinks of Betsy Hagopian and wonders how she’s doing. It has been many months since she stood outside an exam room and watched Betsy enter one of these. Has fate been kind to her?

For a few minutes, her world is limited to the mere inches between her face and this life-saving yet life-ruining contraption. It is noisy and sometimes bright and altogether disorientating. She is glad when it’s over.

The images return almost immediately, and maybe it would all have been okay if Scully weren’t trained in radiology herself, if she wasn’t able to recognize the glaring speck of light in her nasal cavity for what it is. But that one glance is all she needs to know that waiting by the phone isn’t an option.

“It’s a tumor, isn’t it?” she blurts as the radiologist tries to escort her and Melissa from the room. “In the nasal cavity. I have a M.D. I saw.”

“Your doctor will call with the results,” the radiologist insists, standing by the open doorway.

“No, no, you can’t do this to me,” Scully sputters. “I know what I saw, and I don’t have any time to waste.” Her eye twitches in a combination of stress and anger. “I have an infant daughter.”

The radiologist sighs, pity on top of pity. “Perhaps your doctor will talk it through with you now.”

“Yes. Please.”

And it is talked through, though there’s no need to make it complicated: nasopharyngeal carcinoma. Inoperable, and just barely in the realm of treatable. That’s the kicker, the coyote in the pasture, the cloud covering the sun. In the words of Scully’s doctor, it is auspiciously rare. And in Scully’s brain, it is the bottom she’s been expecting to drop out from under since she held her daughter in her arms.

Melissa drives home. The sisters cannot fathom how they will tell their mother. Cannot fathom ruining her blissful time with the granddaughter she’s just met. When they turn onto their street, Scully swallows hard and coughs on her own spit. “Will you do something for me?”

Missy looks over, eager to do anything she can, yet terrified by the possibility of the request.

“Will you take me to Mulder’s?” Scully mumbles. “I would just take the car but...I can’t face mom right now. I don’t want to risk it.”

Missy bites her lip. “And what am I supposed to tell mom when she asks where you are?”

“The truth,” Scully says curtly. “She doesn’t need the backstory.”

Missy drives past their building, though she’s not completely sold on her sister’s reasoning. “Don’t you think she might wonder why you aren’t coming home to your daughter?”

“I know she’ll wonder, Melissa, I know all of this,” Scully snaps because she needs to. “I don’t care.”

“Okay.” Missy’s voice is barely perceptible. I don’t care; she knows how low her sister has to be to say those words.

They complete the drive in silence, Scully biting her nails--a habit which she has never possessed, and perhaps just acquired. The car idles as Missy pulls up to the curb of Mulder’s building.

“I can pick you up when you need it,” she tells her sister as she pulls herself out of the car. “I’ll bring Em.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Scully says, closing the passenger door and edging toward the building. Missy hears a thanks float toward the car, then her sister is gone like a teenage girl embarrassed by her mother.

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

They sit on Mulder’s couch, muted. Words cannot fathom the injustice of this situation, nor can they suffice as empathy. Their hands are clasped together, a throughline of strength between them. This is what they need now; the most primitive language of all.

Scully’s watery eyes brush Mulder’s face. His own eyes, more pained than usual, look into hers. Without a word, she drapes an arm around her partner’s shoulders and scoots into his lap. He is surprised but not distressed. What else is left for them, now?

She is tiny, so tiny. And she is his.

Their eyes meet once again, speaking in tongues. Scully nods, and then Mulder does too. This is it. This is it.

Permission granted at last, Scully’s lips travel to her partner’s jawline. The first time her lips have touched his body, and this is where they go. She is a constant box of wonders, a fortune he can never predict. Her lips are much like he has fantasized they would be: wondrously soft and silky, stroking him like they have always meant to be there. Yet he couldn’t have imagined the urgency with which they burrow into his skin. As if she’s making a mental map of his bone structure. He never expected that she would want him this much.

His hands find her hips and grip the cotton of her shirt between his fingers. It is enough to tear her away from his flesh. Mission accomplished. His breath travels past her ear, hitting her neck. It is shallow and warm as he breathes her name. Her real name, the one her family calls her. She breathes his own back to him, like a bird responding to a mating call.

She feels his lips on her neck, wet and aching. It feels like God. This is the most blasphemous thought she has ever had. She throws her head back, exposing the whole of her skin to him. What is holiness, if not this moment?

He showers her in tattoo kisses, and she lets him, she lets him, she lets him. This is not just what she wants, but what she needs. No one will save her now, she knows this. So she has decided not to be saved.

Her shirt ripples as he clutches it. “May I?” He is breathy, awe-struck.

“Only if I can do the same.” Always about equality, his Scully is. He lifts his arms, lets her strip him first. He is fraught with the temptation to feel insecure, inadequate, but this is not about him--this is all for her. There is no time to dwell on this anyway. Scully takes in the sight, then puts her own arms up with a hint of impatience. He pulls her shirt over her head, and goosebumps adorn her as the air hits her bare stomach.

It is unimaginable, the significance of this moment. All Mulder can do is keep going, lest the emotion hit him and he find himself blubbering all over her. His hands travel her body...it is slender and white, but so solid, so strong. Cartilage forming ligaments forming joints connecting bones. And her skin, stretching over her hips and framing it all. The masterpiece that is Dana Katherine Scully.

He fears for the day she will cave in on herself. Already, one of his hands covers her whole rib cage. Right now he can cradle her body comfortably against his own, but the day will come when a single cautious touch will crush her, and his heart along with it. He wants her as she is now forever.

Seeing that he wants to pamper her, Scully lets herself be pampered. He showers the taut length of her collar bone in kisses. The vibration resonates throughout her bone structure, and already she can feel him in places she’s only fantasized about having him. He is going to heal me, she thinks. If anyone could heal her in any way, it would be him doing this.

She shows her gratitude by kneading circles into his soft tissues, so tense from all their days chasing ghosts. The sinew relaxes beneath the pads of her fingers, and she feels like she has solved the most important X-File of all.

Mulder traces his way along her spine. He has never touched her here, nor ever even fantasized about it, and there is an erotic tension--like a needle about to drop on a record--that neither one of them could have seen coming. Inevitably, his hands converge at the hooks of her bra. She arches her back in approval. He slides the hooks away from each other, and both of them feel the release. She shimmies off the garment before he can pull it out of the way. No secrets, not anymore.

Mulder didn’t expect to cry and is aware that most women wouldn’t take that as a positive sign, but seeing her, like this, knowing what they both know, tears feel like the least he could offer up. She is...beautiful is too weak a word to describe it. He needs to invent a new word to capture the essence of his emotions, the reverence with which he views her. He is not a religious man, but he will worship her until the end of time.

He has known this, intuitively, for a while, and now he’s putting it into practice. He wants to do everything he can for her, give her everything she wants. Yet he doesn’t know how to, and this scares him. She has always slipped through his fingers, always turned on a dime just when he thought he figured her out. Tonight is no exception. How was he to know that he’d be on his couch with a half-naked Scully in his lap?

He fears the tears will offend her, so he nuzzles into her heartspace, his nose pressed against the heart that is--by the grace of that God she worships--still beating. His lips meet the plush of her left breast.

Where does he go from here? The dusty routine he’s used with other women--the few who have given themselves to him or let him hand himself over--is not worthy enough for Scully. He could never touch Scully in the ways he’s touched the women before because she is not like the women before. There is no mere giving or taking here, no detached exchange of commodities or pleasure for the sake of pleasure. This is survival. They are symbiotically keeping each other alive.

A drop of water hits Scully’s skin, slides down the curvature of her breast. She shudders. A tear. That’s what it is, she realizes. Mulder is crying. It’s a baptism of unfortunate proportions.

She cups her hand against his chin, tilts it up so his bleary eyes meet hers. She rests her forehead against his. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She kisses each eye closed, his lids fluttering beneath her lips. “It’s okay.”

His breathing steadies. He is quite certain that it is not okay, that it never will be, but he listens to her, lets himself pretend.

Hands still on his chin, she careens their lips together. His mouth on hers; a godsend. They caress each other for a moment, then Scully opens wide, and Mulder does too. They are reflecting.

If Scully could compress herself, pushing every particle of air out of her lungs and into his, she would. As a sort of thank you, for everything. For what he has done, what is doing, what he will do...She will never have to live without him. She knows this now, and it makes this easier. But he will have to live without her, and so she must make sure he gets the memories he needs to carry on. This is how grief works, she’s acquainted with it. These moments, these feelings, these bated breaths and tender touches, will be his survival mechanism for awhile. Until the day when he can throw them off and go on without her ghost. It will happen one day, and she will be glad that he made it.

She feels him pressing against her stomach, which is certainly not where she wants him. “Fox…” Her hands hover above his belt. She unzips his fly first, her hand warm against him. He is dizzy with want as her fingers curl against his belt buckle, loosening it with confidence. In a sweeping gesture, she pushes his jeans off his hips, exposing him. The thrill she feels, seeing him big and bare in front of her, is a new kind of livelihood. She’s overcome with the desire to take him in her mouth--and that has never, never been her first instinct. She ducks down, but he stops her.

“Dana, no. You.”

She doesn’t need to hear it twice. She sucks in a breath, arches her back, and slides onto him. Slowly, gasping as they go.

“Am I hurting you?”

Scully shakes her head, lips parted. It has been nothing like this before...nothing so fulfilling. She crosses her ankles, binding them completely together at last.

Unity triumphs against the self, their union abolishing the world’s insistence on the solitude of the individual. This is what it’s about, isn’t it? Being joined, not only in spirit, but in body? Knowing that whatever horrors are to come, he will feel them as she does. Her dwindling will be his too, her losses an equally empty space within him.

She is teetering on the edge of something she can never come back from. She is not afraid.

She careens her fingernails into his back as the pressure builds. If it doesn’t come to a head, she’ll die right here, she thinks.

She barely registers the cathartic noises coming out of her, though they give Mulder great delight. He thought she would be quiet, and the fact that she’s not trying to hold anything in--after holding everything in for so goddamn long--is the most moving part of the experience.

And they want this to go on forever, but they want the release. Mulder swivels his hips into her, bringing them both closer to climax. Scully curls against him.

“I’m sorry,” she cries into his ear.

“What?” He nearly pulls out of her, fearing that she’s hurt.

“No, no--” She scrambles to stay with him. “This--” she pants “--is so good.” She lowers her lips onto his as confirmation, then speaks into his open mouth. “I’m just sorry to be the one to go.”

He frames her ribcage, thumbs arching toward her belly button. “Fuck, honey...don’t say that, don’t even think that…”

They won’t linger on the choice of pet name, the tenderness with which it settles over her, nor the absolute devastation of her words. There is simply no time.

Scully hides her face in his neck as the wave breaks over both of them. There is no world anymore, only the two of them on this couch. They have forsaken the physical realm, ascending to heaven in time with their heartbeats.

Mulder understands then what his reciprocal means when she says she needs proof to believe. Now that he’s been there and felt it, he knows that heaven exists, and holy shit, what does that mean for the life he has lived and the time he has left? What did it mean for Samantha?...What will it mean for Scully?

They collapse into each other, a melted mass of skin and bone. Two becoming one, becoming two again. Mulder strokes the back of his partner’s head, presses his lips to her temple. Her chest rises against him in jagged breaths.

“You are the only proof I’ll ever need that this life is worth it,” he murmurs. “Just you.”

Scully looks up at him, tears running down her cheeks. He kisses them away and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t know if you got the memo, but I love you, Dana Scully.”

She rests her cheek against his. “I love you too, F--Mulder.”

Mulder chuckles, his amusement shaking both of them. Scully closes her eyes and snuggles into him. He puts his hand over her heart, feels it beating steadily into his palm, and longs for it to stay like that forever.

#i have been working on that last scene since uhhh...october #i apologize for any emotional distress this and the following chapters will cause lmao #probably only two or three chapters left!!!#thank you for reading <3 #only the light fic #missy and scully fic #txf #txf fic #the x-files #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine

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violet-t-9 · 4 years ago

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Check in on my (not very realistic) wish list for episode 138

1. Nobody dies in the battle against Cree, even temporarily (looking at you, squishy wizards). Everybody survives and defeats her relatively easily.

Ayyye I mean Cree was one vs. 6 basically and of course it was easy enough, I expected this. Bye Cree, I won’t really miss you... WAIT she got controlled after death?? Well, the actual Cree fight was still easy so I’m counting this. The flesh monster version also took less than like, 20 seconds in-game time to beat lol.

2. Caleb or Beau’s eye power come into play whether for them or against them during the combat (telepathy also counts).

Heyyyy Caleb and Beau could pick up on the radio! That is helpful- oh he turned Cree into a flesh monster using the eyes... oh NO everyone has eyes now except Jester and Yasha. Group telepathy could be useful?? I guess??

3. Beau and Caleb discover the third function of their eyes if there is one (besides true sight and telepathy).

Nope I have no idea. I’m assuming that seeing through illusions and dark vision are separate at this point. That’s fine considering the huge twist that almost all of them have eyes now, like hello?? Caleb also wondered if he has a fourth power now, which we still don’t know about.

4. The party gets some much needed rest, even a short one, after defeating Cree (Bonus: heroes’ feast).

Hey the time shunt thing worked! PERFECTLY! With a 30 and a 24! I love two wizards, my absolute beloved. THANKS ESSEK (and Caleb, but Essek mostly).

5. This is a long shot but still hoping for any mention/sighting of Yussa.

Thanks Caleb for mentioning Yussa! Also Beau was able to try to connect to Yussa thanks to the eyes too! What a cool moment. Also thanks everybody for agreeing to help him lol. Caleb banished him! They saved him! Yayyyyy.

6. More nightmarish body horror and screaming from the cognouza citizens (look, listen, I loved last episode okay, Matt is awesome, horror is my jam).

Yes for the intestine corridor and flesh puddles, also for Cree transformation, also for the threshold crest vault mouth opening thing and for literally everything else in this episode need I explain? As a student of science I am very much enjoying the weird physiology connections with the Cognouza.

7. They meet another member of the Somnovem who offers more information.

Jester’s Calm emotion what a queen, they did meet a Somnovem. Wow I never thought I’d find eternal love so creepy but thanks Gaudius. Gaudius is apparently against Fastidan and Culpasi, nice. Good to know that the Somnovem Omega still does not get along lol.

8. Beau and Yasha’s PDA or power couple moments (bonus: they talk about mind control, the eyes, or feelings).

OH WOW Yasha has IDEAS about Beau wearing a red cape does she now lol, not subtle at all as expected. Get a room you guys! Not much talking can be done at this point, but nice.

9. Fjord and Jester’s conversation or domesticity (bonus: they talk about hope for the future).

“All we care about is love and unity” LMAO JESTER taking your chance to smooch as much as possible. I’m counting this moment you cannot convince me otherwise.

10. Artagan/Sprinkle comes into play/is mentioned and interaction with Jester.

Yep, they both talked (well, hissed in one case) with Jester. Artagan thought about them going to the feywild too! Fun.

11. Obligatory wish for Essek’s fancy dunamancy or magical items (Bonus: we get to see more high-damage AOE offensive spells).

Magic missile again! At least that will never miss. Sad that he can’t do AOE ever with the party around lol. ALSO THE TIME SHUNT BY THE TWO WIZARDS! The 30 from Essek (dunamancy master indeed!) and the dirty 24 from Caleb, NICE.

12. Obligatory wish for Caleb’s polymorph spell on himself or a party member.

Jester’s polymorph spell was cool too! Jestape? Japester?? I like Japester. Polymorph! Jester’s interactions are also my beloved. It’s not Caleb’s spell, so I’m not counting this one.

13. The party tracks down Lucien and tries to reach him by mentioning Molly.

Well, they attempted to track down Lucien, but really it’s the other way around.

14. Obligatory wish for Essek’s room in the tower (it will stay until it happens).

Nope, as expected.

15. Obligatory wish for Cad being a MVP in and out of combat also for him to use decompose more on the city, I’m curious to see what happens.

That path to the grave, what a MVP move Cad. TWO TIMES! TWO TIMES! For the HDYWTDT from Veth too! I knew it, Cad is a combat genius. Also nice blight on the fleshy ceiling. Also plane shift to the fire plane! Also that curse word speech what a king.

16. Veth one-on-one RP interaction with any other party member - we had some good tag teams recently, like Veth and Beau, Veth and Yasha, Veth and Essek... I want to see more!

We don’t really have time for RP because this episode was super action-packed but we did have a bunch of nice short moments!

17. Yasha or Fjord being absolutely freaked out/creeped out by the city.

Well to be fair EVERYBODY was super creeped out, so...

18. The empire siblings don’t get another red eye (well, hopefully this will happen if they won’t get a full rest).

Well ironically, Beau and Caleb DID NOT get another red eye during the whole party members gaining red eyes scene- Nope, Caleb got one more. Honestly, pretty excited and anxious at the same time.

19. Somebody check in on Essek’s mental/physical state because for a newbie adventurer he is doing suspiciously well - I wonder if he is just desensitized at this point.

Poor Essek was very physically hurt and also shook shook by Cree being transformed... so not entirely desensitized. He even failed the wisdom saving throw OH NO HE IS GETTING EYES ISN’T HE CALLING IT RN READ IN BOOKS I know what book is kinda associated with a wisdom save. Update: I KNEW IT, and I don’t care that nobody will believe me that I called it. Still sad that nobody really got to role play much, but I’m enjoying the action.

20. Caleb uses more fire or his customized spells (last episode’s awesome Widogast’s web of fire got me missing all his unique spells).

Disintegrate followed by CAT’S IRE HYPE and the clutch immovable object used for the first time what’s sexier than wizards NOTHING.

21. Fjord being the leader of the group in any way or just does something very impressive (go Fjord Tough).

Nice hexblade curse and triple Eldritch Blasts Fjord! Warlock powers let’s go! Also, nice counterspell! That divine smite + crit star razor oof that’s such a beautiful 80 damage. VERY impressive indeed.

22. We get to see new spells/abilities/features gained by their level-up! That will probably not come into play until a long rest, but one can hope.

MIND BLANK AT 8TH LEVEL what a perfect spell for Caleb. They got a long rest thanks to the mini Beacon! I love it. Jester and Cad showed off some spells as well!

23. Lucien physically reacting to the party’s attempts to bring up Molly’s memories/moments and showing confusion/hesitation.

Well they didn’t get to try anything really, Lucien spent most of the time doing his cool, dramatic and drawn-out villain monologue thing, also his maniac laughter scared me way more than the scream from last episode.

24. Obligatory wish for everyone to remain relatively happy and alive by the end of the episode except Cree (I have a feeling that Lucien ain’t dying this episode), and the episode ends on a terrifying cliffhanger as always.

Rip Cree, and what do you know, cliffhanger! Gosh I love this show.

Bonus:

Nice dimension door Jester, she is SO on task and such a key player in these crucial moments!! What a queen, it’s thanks to her (and Caleb, but it’s her idea first!) that they got to the crest so quickly and got rid of it. I repeat, QUEEN.

Veth’s first shot AND the final shot were awesome in terms of damage, rogues am I right?

Wow what a confrontation. I thought Lucien was all for the Somnovem but apparently he is... just super chaotic?? And wants to rule them all?? What was that all about? Lucien just gets more and more complex and I’m conflicted because now they might need to fight him, the city, or both. This is getting super complicated and I can’t wait for the next episode.

Well guys, this session made me scream in joy and also feel what it’s like to be high on adrenaline. The episodes just keep getting better and better. I literally could not care less if this is the final arc - if it is, it’s a damn good one. I love the cast so much, I love critical role so much. I wish it could be Thursday every day of the week!

#cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #c2e138 #the mighty nein #manifest list #cr liveblog #critical role #campaign 2

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beckydoesthings · 4 years ago

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various fics of hxl that i adore reading! this list is quite lengthy, but feel free to message me if you have any questions!

*will continue to be updated. also, if i mistagged you, i apologize, i do not know how to tumblr*

Love Is a Rebellious Bird

E | 134k | @100percentsassy and gloria_andrews

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

i think this tickled every bone of my musical self and also made me cry (are you seeing a theme here??) one of the first fics i fell in love with and one i keep coming back to.

Collision

E | 226k | @tequiladimples

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

the world building in this one is insanity - so much good mythology mixed in and it made me screech with joy. i think i can firmly say that i did not expect where the plot went, but that made the story so much better.

Flour and Chocolate

M | 145k | @danosphere91

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

the miscommunication in this fic is SO REAL and makes for a good read. the rest of the flour and chocolate series is also fantastic. i thoroughly enjoyed both the ziam and ed/niall arcs that bring the whole story together.

run away home

E | 106k | @hattalove

Louis stands, in the middle of a clearing with his hands in his pockets, and stares. This boy—God, this gorgeous, gorgeous boy. He seems so clumsy, confused at the best of times, but there’s a wisdom about him as he speaks, a maturity that belies his age.

Louis is hopelessly, wildly attracted to him.

or, louis is a successful jockey down on his luck, struggling to get his life back on track after an injury. harry has a horse, a house fit for a prince, and a broken heart.

it takes them a while to figure out that they need each other.

this makes my inner horse girl extraordinarily happy - even if i don’t know anything about horse racing. louis’ story in this is beautiful and makes the whole piece worth a read.

waiting for the tides to meet

E | 60k | @nauticalleeds

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

gorgeous soulmate AU that gives me summer cruising vibes. worth the read for the lettuce scene alone (i kid, i kid)

Do Not Go Gentle

E | 70k | @afirethatcannotdie

“This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.”

For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust.

Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back.

“Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters.

When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.

A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

okay i’ve watched maybe 3 episodes of Gray’s Anatomy, but i feel like this encompasses the vibe of the show: medical stuff with a hefty dose of angst and sexual tension

Falling For Me Won’t Be A Mistake

M | 58k | @all-these-larrythings

Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

one of my favorite mpreg fics so if that’s not your cup of tea, then don’t read it. i love surgeon harry with a vengeance, but honestly Gems and Niall are iconic in this one.

Watching the World Fall

E | 11k | @crazyupsetter why won’t it let me tag :(

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

i have a soft spot the size of Antarctica for Late Late AU fics (we stan James Corden) and for exes to lovers so this checks all the boxes.

autumn leaves

E | 27k | @suspendrs

“Brave?” Harry frowns, caught off guard. “No, not particularly.”

“You seem brave,” Louis decides, pushing off the wall and stepping on the butt of his cigarette. “You are strong, and you are not mean. That’s good,” he assures, touching Harry’s arm gently.

“Thank you, but that’s not true,” Harry smiles ruefully. “I’m really not anything special.”

Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

love love french AUs and while this one isn’t sunshine and rainbows, it’s a beautiful yet heart wrenching piece. warning for period typical homophobia

caught up in your love affair

NR | 8k | @disgruntledkittenface

“And the corgis took to you straightaway,” Harry remarks.

“That’s true,” Louis chuckles.

“I’ve spent the last 29 years being barked at,” Harry deadpans, jerking his hand toward Louis, “this one walks in, absolutely nothing.”

Louis outright giggles at that, saying, “They were just lying on my feet during tea.”

“Wagging tails,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“It’s because they don’t understand flirting,” Louis tells him, “you can’t charm them the way you do everyone else.”

Royal AU. Prince Harry announces his engagement to Louis Tomlinson in an interview with longtime friend and BBC host Nick Grimshaw. Inspired by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle.

just. 8k of royal fluff. that’s literally it and i adore it so much.

Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You)

M | 54k | @rainbowsandgucci

”Due to unforeseen circumstances, help is needed here at the orchard for the impending apple season. Looking for someone able to start within the next week or two at the most, is willing to do whatever miscellaneous tasks are needed, such as picking & packing apples, running the cash register, and other handywork that may need to be done. Must be good with customers, and able to lift up to 50lbs. Help will be needed until at the least the end of October. Please contact the number found on this page, or come out to the orchard and ask for Harry. All the love xx” --- Louis is staying at his Aunt's farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles. Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry's friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn. He also starts to fall in love with Harry. Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

i never thought i would enjoy an apple orchard fic?? but it’s so good?? farmer harry makes me laugh to think about, but the heartbreak in this fic is so. real.

Mine Would Be You

E | 114k | @crinkle-eyed-boo

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

exes to lovers drama but make it extra sad. the fact that we see so many facets to this story just makes it all the more painful, yet beautiful. this fic also reminds me of how much i love one mister niall horan.

One for Luck

E | 96k | @leavingonatrain

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles' deep, deep voice, he's just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he's officially back on Great Britain's Olympic team. He's also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there's a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life's grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

again, i know nothing about horses, but i like to pretend i do for the sake of this fic. it’s beautiful, it’s smutty what else could you ask for?

Nothing But You On My Mind

E | 83k | @absoloutenonsense

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

i absolutely. definitely. sobbed tears at this fic. it’s just so beautifully painful to read. don’t want to spoil anything, but this is a must.

Adore You

M | 67k | @isthatyoularry

“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer.

Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

i strongly relate to harry in this one! one of my favorite historical AUs and honestly i love the thought of louis in well fitting suits.

leave it to the breeze

E | 81k | @hattalove

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

i. love. the. great british baking show. baking + h&l is amazing. and another reminder as to why niall is the absolute best.

Paint The Sky With Stars

M | 62k | @icanhazzalou grrr let me tag

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom.

Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform.

By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help.

Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

gorgeous historical fic that’s so accurate and painstakingly written. i keep coming back to it!

When It’s Late At Night

M | 25k | @all-these-larrythings

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

remember when i said i love Late Late AUs? yeah. i love that louis gives absolutely zero shits in this fic until he gives all the shits.

Chasing Empty Spaces

E | 79k | @domestic-harry

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

gorgeous historical AU that goes through Harry’s struggle with his sexuality wonderfully. this one also made me cry.

Resist Everything Except Temptation

E | 100k | @domestic-harry

The lethargic sound of heels clicking against wood resonated across the sea. Footsteps descended the staircase, every assured step creating a menacing aura as it grew closer. Perspiration gathered along Louis’ palms as the rhythmic sound halted in front of him.

“Captain,” Malik greeted.

Louis watched out of his peripheral as Malik’s boots shuffled back a few steps. Sweat matted the hair along the nape of Louis’ neck as he waited for something to happen. He felt as if a sharp blade was twisting his gut as the silence became tangible. There was a metallic slide of a sword being pulled out of its sheath, the sound startling Louis out of his cocoon of sterile shock. His shoulders jumped as the tip of a blade flattened underneath his jaw. Louis’ distorted reflection stared back at him in the polished metal. Engraved rose petals twisted his appearance as they crawled up the length of the sword. The sword lifted and took Louis’ chin with it.

Standing in front of Louis was Captain Styles.

The one where Louis is the commodore's son who is forced to become a part of Harry's crew when he is captured.

love this pirate AU that’s got one badass gemma styles. also, harry as a super cool pirate in gorgeous clothes makes me super happy!

i’ll make this feel like home

E | 49k

Harry to groans himself and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, well. Here’s the thing. I peed on a stick.”

Louis isn’t able to get more than a shocked “What!” out before Harry’s steamrolling on.

“I peed on a stick and it says it’s positive, but you always prattle on about how it’s best to go to the doctor’s before you get excited, you know to confirm it because sometimes hormones are off or you have like a tumor or some shit and get false positives and what if I’m dying and-”

“You’re pregnant?!” Louis shouts out, stomach dropping as the words leave his mouth.

“Um, yeah… maybe.”

[the one where Louis' hopelessly in love with his best mate... who just happens to be pregnant with another man's baby.]

baby momma harry with hot mess!Louis is a recipe for disaster, but this one has plenty of fluff to make up for it.

Hands Clasped Tight

E | 44k | @afirethatcannotdie

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

love love teacher harry and louis that’s mostly funny fluff with a little angst. just a teeny amount. reminds me of my own experiences with meddling students haha.

*updated 2/16/21*

#fic recs #hl #hlcreators #ao3 #in no particular order #message me for other fics!#yourlarrysource

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tamiettitami · 4 years ago

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for this month's recommendations, i decided to go with the theme KISSES GALORE in honour of valentine's day. all of the below works have been posted in the month of february 2021 and hand selected by me <3

Sowing Discord by @chronologicalimplosion

A group of hyper-religious, homophobic protesters on campus ruins David's post-lunch good mood and he sends a half-joking message to the LGBTQ+ Discord server about staging a counterprotest. Constant lurker Patrick comes running.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 4,089 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Original Characters, Alternative Universe, Alternative Universe - College/University, Homophobia, First Kiss, Epistolary, kind of

"This work features the inclusion of messages sent in Discord channels, a social media app I've never seen interrogated into a fanfiction piece before. The perfect balance of humour as well as tenderness makes this the ideal read to round out the month of love."

falling into place like dominos by @davidbrewer

Alexis spins the bottle and Stevie doesn’t know if she wants it to stop in front of her, or if she’s hoping it points literally anywhere else. She thinks she’ll figure it out when it stops moving, but… even with the neck of the bottle unmistakably pointing at her foot, she still can’t identify what the feeling is. Is that happiness or dread settling in the pit of her stomach? Since when do those completely different things feel exactly the same? If she’s being honest, though, it feels like a combination of things. It’s that feeling you get right before you do something you know you might regret later… like throwing back a jello shot (which she wishes she had done), calling an ex at 3am, or maybe jumping out of a plane.

David and Patrick hold a second housewarming party, this time at their newly-renovated cottage. For old times' sake, they decide to play spin the bottle. Meanwhile, Stevie has been wrestling with her feelings for Alexis since she left for New York... and it never occurred to her that those feelings could flow both ways.

Rated M for MATURE AUDIENCES; 4,897 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose, Stevie Budd/Alexis Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Post-Canon, Lesbian Stevie Budd, First (Real) Kiss, Alcohol, Spin the Bottle, Queer Themes, Sexuality Crisis, (Although it's more of a frustrated confusing than a crisis tbh)

"The author's ability to voice every character (but specifically Alexis) will never fail to astound me; their inner voice for Stevie is the most notable in this work, however. Even the friendship/sibling dynamics between David and Alexis and as well as Stevie and Patrick are absolute perfection. One of the best 'Housewarming' codas I've ever endulged in and I can confidently says so."

Until I Lose My Breath by @the-kellephant

How could she have missed the fact that she was in love with Twyla?

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 814 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Femslash February, Bisexual Stevie Budd, Lesbian Twyla Sands

"A lovely introspective piece about sapphic feelings and how they can often be blindsided by denial if not provided with the proper care or attention."

You can Stand Under my Umbrella by @agoodpersonrose

David thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse. But then it started to rain.

43. You both reach for the last umbrella in the store on a rainy day.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 2,721 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Tumblr Prompt, Meet-Cute, First Kiss, First Meetings, Awkward Flirting, Kissing in the Rain, Umbrellas, Fluff and Humour, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Prompt Fill, One Shot

"I have nothing to say besides this is hands down the most cute way this prompt could've been filled and I applaud Becca for her ability to write such tender moments in a way underlined with laughs."

Ten Tender Kisses by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries

Ten drabbles featuring ten tender kisses.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; 1,110 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Fluff, tender kisses, Canon Compliant

"Reading this was pure joy. The happiness I felt from the first drabble continued to grow the longer I scrolled which is truly a beautiful feeling. Their banter is so perfectly in character and the dynamic the author has created between David and Patrick is a skill I envy."

I Didn't Know it was a Crush, David by squigmistress

David and Patrick arrive home after The Premiere and David wants to talk more about some of the wild stuff Patrick said when he was high on pain meds. What he doesn't expect is Patrick's big, gay feelings. But damn, does he love him for it. OR Patrick needs emotional safety to process some feelings and, of course, David is more than happy to hold him through it.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 1,548 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, david rose - Relationship, Queer Themes, Coming Out, Episode: s06e05 The Premiere, Coda, Feelings, Feelings Realisation, Gay, Canon Gay Character, Family Issues, Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Anger

"Now, I've always been a sucker for introspective works, but this took it to a brand new level. It's such a fine needle to thread; however, the author does an astounding job at cataloguing the growth/development of Patrick's emotions."

Be your remedy by @jessx2231

Patrick closes his eyes and brings to mind all the times David has put on music while Patrick is engrossed in a book or his phone or even the occasional weekend work task. Eventually, David will slink into his space, just enough to rest his head in Patrick’s lap. He doesn’t always do so with the intent to fall asleep, but it’s usually not long before Patrick’s fingers involuntarily find their way into David’s hair — much like they are now — and David’s breath will even out for a while.

He can definitely make an abridged version of that happen.

Or, David can't sleep and Patrick helps.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings; 2,048 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Fluff, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Married Life, very mild descriptions of depressive symptoms, but really just some very soft sleepy boys

"A warm hug is the best way I can describe this. Also, I already knew I need a Patrick Brewer in my life, but this solidified that."

the paths that your eyes wander down by @anniemurphys apart of falling in love at a coffee shop by them, @thankstwy, and @landofsonlali

Written for the prompt: "Twyla and Alexis reunite in NYC."

Alexis finds Twyla at a tiny corner table.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; 568 words; F/F; TAGGED for Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Post-Canon

"The absolute perfect romantic comedy moment paired with some of the most in-character Alexis dialogue I've seen in awhile, not to mention how beautifully the mutual pining is broken."

a sense of expectation hanging in the air by Anonymous (i'll add the author once reveals are out for the Season 7 collection !)

Stevie starts to realize she has feelings for Ruth. How long though, will it take for her to tell Ruth that?

Rated M for MATURE AUDIENCES; 6,548 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd/Ruth Clancy, Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose & Twyla Sands, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer, Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Making Out, Fluff, Texting, Female Friendship, Episode: s07e08 RMG, Workplace Relationship

"The support from Stevie's friends—Alexis, Twyla, David, and Patrick—is so incredibly lovely. Despite the secret crushes, Stevie and Ruth refuse to let anything get in the way of them getting together and it's such a wonderful thing to see them immediately all-in the relationship."

got a fistful of four leaf clovers by iphigenias

Two weeks before Christmas Alexis calls David.

“So I think I like someone,” she says.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 1,754 words; F/F; TAGGED for Post-Canon, Getting Together, Femslash February, home is a place AND a person!

"Alexis's slow burn of building feelings for Twyla melts my heart. That being said, the realistic depiction of the difficulties that come with change provides a certain depth to this story it needs."

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #david rose #patrick brewer #stevie budd #twyla sands #alexis rose #david x patrick #david & patrick #stevie x alexis #stevie & alexis #twyla x alexis #twyla & alexis #twylexis #fic recommendations #fanficiton #*lolrecs #schitt's creek fic #february roundup

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sisterspooky1013 · 4 years ago

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Never Give Up On A Miracle by SisterSpooky1013

12,864 words / Read it Here on AO3

X Files Missing Scene Fanfic Exchange gift to @night-of-cydonia , tagging @today-in-fic

Prompt: what happened after the flashbacks in Per Manum, from Mulder’s perspective?

It had been hours. Or it felt like it had been hours, anyway. He craned his neck to see the time on the microwave; 3:15. Her appointment was at 1:00, she should be back by now. He considered calling her, but maybe she wanted to be alone. Maybe it was bad news again. He shifted around a bit to get more comfortable on her small couch, thought about lying down in her bed but decided against it. Thought about digging through her fridge for something to eat, but decided against that, too. If Scully was devastated right now, if the last embryo transfer didn’t work, he had no right to physical comfort or nourishment. So he laid there and waited.

When she’d first asked him to be her sperm donor, he was so shocked he couldn’t speak. That turned out to be a good thing, because she insisted that he not answer right away; she wanted him to take some time to think it over, not go with whatever response came to him readily. He wasn’t sure if she was worried that a too-fast response would be a yes or a no; was she afraid he’d regret saying yes? Or was she worried that he’d say no, but might have said yes if he’d had more time to think? It didn’t matter, his immediate answer was yes, and his answer the next day when he stopped by her apartment was yes, and each and every time he saw her, or thought about it, or went to the clinic for his “deposit,” his mind screamed yes. Yes, I want to father your child. Yes, I want to be tied to you forever. Yes, I want to argue over whether or not they can play contact sports or date when they’re 15 and whether we’re willing to pay out of state tuition for college. Yes, I want it all, with you. He didn’t really know if any of that was available to him; maybe she just wanted his sperm and nothing more. But whatever it was, however little or much she wanted from him and with him, the answer when it came to Scully was always yes.

When he’d come by her apartment to give her his answer, there was so much he’d wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he needed her to be in his life always, that whether she decided to quit the FBI or transfer back to Quantico, or something else entirely, that he would be by her side. He’d tried to say all those things, but what came out was “I wouldn’t want this to come between us,” which he realized too late sounded like he was softening a “no.” The look on her face was a punch to the gut; the gentle quiver in her chin that she recovered from quickly, her rush to assure him that it was okay, that she understood. All the profound things he’d wanted to confess fell out of his head and the only thing he could muster was that the answer was yes. Watching the realization dawn on her, the relief flooding her body, the joy that tugged at the corners of her mouth, felt like magic. That he could make her that happy was something he’d only dreamed of. She’d hugged him so tightly, and he smiled against her hair, smelling her shampoo. For as much pain and suffering as he’d brought into her life, he could do this for her. It didn’t make up for all the rest, but it was something.

He’d had a lot of questions about how the procedure worked, but he didn’t want to burden her with explaining it so he did his own research, learning about all the hormones she’d have to inject herself with to prepare her body and the affects they would have on her, and the need for precise timing of when they transferred the embryo into her uterus.

The embryo.

It was a medical term, but in a literal sense it was the combination of their DNA. Half of her and half of him, duplicating and developing into what had the potential to become a baby. It got them ¾ of the way to pregnant; all the embryo had to do was attach to her uterine lining. It just had to stick around. The statistics said there was a 60% chance, generally speaking, but that didn’t necessarily take into account the damage done to her ova under cryo storage, much less the damage done to her body during her abduction; he doubted the medical community had data on how those factors affected her odds.

The first transfer he was mostly out of the loop on. Scully told him when to go in and provide his sperm sample, and that was it. He observed her mood swings and irritability and inferred they were side effects from the hormones, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to be intrusive and wasn’t sure what his role was. He wanted to know everything, but he didn’t think he had a right to. One day, a couple weeks after he’d spent some quality time in the donation room, she’d been flipping through some documents in the office when she got a paper cut. What started with an expletive quickly devolved into sobbing and he was confused, and worried, and a little bit scared. He went to her, gently placing a hand on her back, and she shook her head as if to say “it’s nothing, I’m fine.” He crouched down beside her, trying to see her face, but she hid it in her hands.

“Is it…is it the hormones?” He’d asked tentatively.

She’d looked at him then, her eyes bloodshot and wet, and shook her head again.

“It didn’t take,” she squeaked out between shuddering breaths. “I went in for a pregnancy test yesterday. It didn’t work.”

He’d moved closer, kneeling on the floor beside her chair, and enveloped her in a tight hug, stroking her back as he whispered in her ear reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Scully. We can try again, right?”

She’d nodded, but didn’t speak, her arms wrapped around his neck with a strangling grip. After a time, the sobs that racked her tiny frame subsided and she sniffled, relaxing a little. He took a chance at humor, wanting to bring some levity to the moment.

“That one just wasn’t the one, Scully. It was probably the next Jeffrey Dahmer or something.”

She snuffed a small laugh, pulling back to look at him. The pain in her eyes gripped at his heart and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep his own emotions from spilling over.

“Why didn’t you tell me when the transfer was, or when you were taking a test?” He asked, hoping that his tone conveyed care and concern, not irritation.

She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be that involved. I didn’t want you to feel obligated I guess.”

He picked up one of her hands from her lap and held it between both of his.

“I want to be as involved as you’ll allow me to be. It’s your decision, but I’d like to know where you’re at in the process, if I can. Did more than one zygote make it to embryo stage? Did they freeze any?” His knees ached from kneeling on the floor but he didn’t want to lose this moment where she seemed to be opening up to him.

The corner of her mouth quirked and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Yes, there were three embryos resulting from fertilization. They transferred one, and the other two are in cold storage. How do you know so much about this, Mulder?”

He gave her a shy smile and shrugged.

“Well I wanted to know what was going to happen to my… my genetic material, so I did a little research.”

Her mouth screwed up in attempt to hide her smile. It was an expression he knew well.

“I promise I’ll let you know for the next one” she finally said, putting her other hand on top of his and squeezing.

She was good to her word, letting him know when she started her period, and that the next transfer would be about 15 days later. She’d even jokingly asked him how his donation appointment went and then laughed at him as his face turned beet red, assuring him it wasn’t a question she expected him to answer. When she snapped at him for something mundane, she apologized and explained that the hormones she was taking to prepare her uterine lining for the embryo transfer made her irritable. On the day of the transfer, she wouldn’t let him go with her but she did let him bring her dinner afterward, and then pretended not to mind that he treated her like she was made of glass until the day she could take a test. Being included in the anticipation and build up was amazing, and he found himself daydreaming about what a child of theirs would look like, how cute Scully would look with a little belly. It also made it that much harder when she called him to say that it didn’t take again. He asked if he could come over, but she insisted that she wanted to be alone. He sat in his empty apartment as the weight of disappointment settled on his shoulders, and he realized how much he had wanted it. Not just for Scully, he’d wanted it for him. He wanted to be a father, wanted to share a child with her. He’d never had strong feelings either way about parenthood, and now he could see that was because he’d never known anyone he wanted to be a parent WITH. Now that he had glimpsed what having a child with Scully might be like, he wanted it more than just about anything. A few quiet tears rolled down his cheeks and he wiped them away before grabbing his gym bag and heading out to shoot some hoops.

They’d had three eggs that fertilized, three chances, and that was it. There were no more viable eggs. The third cycle felt different, less anticipatory and more desperate. She kept him in the loop, but they were both on edge the whole time. After the transfer, she took a day off to relax, hopefully increase her odds, and he brought her lunch and smiled through his anxiety while they talked about everything except what they were both thinking about. He wanted it to work, so badly, but there was nothing he could do to affect the outcome. It felt incredibly helpless, standing by while she overanalyzed every twinge in her belly, wondering if it meant something. Over lunch the day before she went in for her test, he gently asked if he could come with her, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. It was news that he was just as invested in as she was, even though he worked hard to hide it. The last thing he wanted to do was add his own emotional needs to her overloaded plate; she should only be worrying about herself, not him. She declined, but compromised on letting him wait for her at her apartment, so he’d know as soon as she got home, and so he could be with her either way.

So here he was, waiting. The delay in her return told him he should prepare for bad news, but the mind is a fickle thing and he was still dreaming of a positive. He envisioned a daughter, a tiny thing with red hair and blue eyes. Basically a pint sized version of Scully, freckles and all. She’d be wicked smart, of course, and curious as hell. He wondered if Scully would want to name her after one of their sisters, maybe both. Would she want the baby to have his last name? It would be her choice, but the idea of another Samantha Mulder having a chance in the world made him smile as a lump formed in his throat. At some point he drifted off, visions of tossing a toddler in the air while Scully looked on with a smile dancing behind his eyelids.

It was the thunk of the deadbolt that woke him. He jolted upright, orienting himself to space and time, rushing quickly to the realization that he was about to learn his fate. Standing, he spoke.

“Scully? I must have dozed off, I was waiting for you to get back.”

One look at her face was enough. He felt his stomach lurch. He tried to find words as his heart quickened, searching for a sign one way or the other, grasping at hope. But he knew. She walked towards him slowly, her chin puckered and her eyes wet. It was bad news.

“It didn’t take, did it?”

“I guess it was too much to hope for,” her voice was strained around the fresh tears that pooled in her eyes.

He felt his heart break. He’d hurt many times, for many reasons. He’d worried over Scully countless times. He’d cried for her, and with her. He’d grieved for his sister for the majority of his life. But this hurt was different. This was the woman he loved more than life itself telling him that her dreams of being a mother were over. It was the end of a road, the slam of a door, the handful of dirt tossed on a coffin containing hope. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and hiding his own pained expression in her hair, rocking her back and forth gently.

“It was my last chance” she keened into his ear, and he pulled a deep breath in through is nose to ward off his own tears. He needed to be strong for her. She could not bear the weight of his own grief on top of hers. He held her tighter. Closing his eyes, he tried to steady his breath, swallowing the lump in his throat until he thought he could speak without crying. Pulling away from her slightly, he kissed her forehead and then rested his own against it, taking another beat to recover.

“Never give up on a miracle” he finally said, not sure what exactly he meant by it. He knew he didn’t want her to give up, but he wasn’t sure what a miracle would look like. He did know that if anyone was deserving of a miracle, it was Scully.

She leaned back into him, tilting her face towards his so that for a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. Just before her lips met his she passed his mouth and instead pressed them against his cheek, resting them there for a beat before she returned to his embrace. They stood like that for an agonizingly long time, rocking gently back and forth while her tears soaked the shoulder of his sweater and and her sobs became more shallow and further apart. He held her until she grew limp in his arms, and then he bent down and scooped her up, carrying her to the couch where he sat with her in his lap. She leaned into his chest, her eyes closed, as he reached down and plucked her boots from her feet, tossing them to the floor in a way that he knew would drive her crazy if she had the wherewithal to care. Next he pushed her coat off one arm, then lifted her torso off him gently to pull it free from the other arm and tossed it, too, onto the floor. Settling back against the couch, he wrapped one arm around her waist and encouraged her to lean into him, her forehead nestled in the crook of his neck. His other hand peppered her with tiny touches of reassurance; a brush down her shin, a stroke on the outside of her thigh, a thumb grazing her jaw, fingertips dancing over her arm, and finally intertwining with hers and settling in her lap. She was quiet for a long time, so long that he thought she may have fallen asleep. Finally she took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked. It was a rhetorical question, but the only only one he could come up with.

“Not really” she answered, her voice flat.

“What do you need?” He inquired further. He felt like he should do something for her. What do you do for someone who just had their dreams stomped into dust?

She didn’t answer, but he felt her head shake gently against him. She didn’t know what she needed anymore than he did.

“Would you like to take a bath?” He asked, giving her a brief squeeze.

Now she nodded, her cheek brushing against his chest. “That sounds nice.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead before he stood with her in his arms; she was so light it took almost no exertion. He turned and set her gently on the couch and then went in to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He used the toilet and then stared at his reflection while he washed his hands. He stared back at himself, his eyes empty and expressionless. He willed himself not to feel, not to let the sadness overtake him too. He needed to focus on Scully. A pang of pain gripped at his heart and he closed his eyes, biting his lip. Just be here for her. Be her strength. She needs you. With a deep breath, he set his jaw, dried his hands, and drew her a bath.

When he returned to the living room, she was curled up in a ball on her side, staring vacantly. He knelt down beside her and ran his hand down the length of her arm. He forced a small smile to his lips. Be strong for her, he reminded himself.

“Hey,” he said in a near whisper. “Bath’s all ready for you.”

She lifted her head and he offered his hand to help her pull her to standing. She listed slightly, unsteady on her feet, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, escorting her into the bathroom.

“holler if you need me, okay?”

She nodded mutely and he left her, leaving the door open a crack. Returning to the living room, he looked around for something productive to do. He picked up her shoes and set them neatly by the door, hung her coat in the closet, straightened the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. Scully kept her apartment very tidy, so there wasn’t much to be done. It was nearly 5, he should think about dinner soon. A cursory inventory of her fridge indicated that they’d need to order out. Maybe they should watch a movie. Maybe she’d just want to go to bed. Should he get her pajamas ready for her? There was that helpless feeling again.

A sound from the bathroom interrupted his train of thought and he froze, listening. A low moan of agony sounded, followed by a gut wrenching sob. He walked quickly to the bathroom, knocking gently as he brought his lips to small space between the open door and the frame.

“Scully?”

Another wail and a sob. He felt a sharp pain in his chest.

“Scully, are you okay?”

He could hear her falling apart, the shredding sound of her pain gripping at him. He needed to go to her.

“Scully, I’m coming in.”

He pushed the door open slowly, the bathtub coming into view incrementally. She was sitting near the faucet with her legs tucked against her chest, her arms wrapped around them protectively. Her forehead was resting on her knees, and she was shaking with sobs as primal, guttural sounds escaped her lips, which were pulled into a grimace.

He rushed to her side, placing his hand on the bare skin of her back, which was dry and cool in the open air.

“Scully? Talk to me.” He felt afraid. He’d never seen her like this before.

She was shivering violently, her jaw chattering. She wouldn’t respond to him. She had gone somewhere else, somewhere deep inside herself. He needed to either pull her back, or go there with her. He needed to be with her. He stood, pulling his sweater and t shirt over his head in one quick movement, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his legs, plucking off his socks. In a matter of seconds, he was down to his boxers, stepping into the empty space behind her in the tub. He pushed his legs into the narrow gaps on either side of her body and wrapped his arms around her, on top of her own. He pulled her to him so that her back was flush against his chest, and the shock of his warm skin against hers, which was chilled, seemed to jolt her back into reality. She went slack, releasing her grip around her legs as they straightened out before her, her head dropping back against him as she wailed. When she changed position, his arms had drifted to hold her around her rib cage, the soft swell of her breasts brushing against his forearms. She was so raw, so vulnerable, she didn’t even have the sense to care that she was draped over him naked, completely exposed. He was so engulfed with her pain, and with his own threatening to take center stage and pull him under with her, that he didn’t have the presence of mind to be affected by it like he normally may have been. He could see the taper of her waist and the triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, he took in the pinkness of her nipples and the wobble of her breasts as her body shook with her grief, but that’s all it was, grief. He didn’t allow himself to see the beautiful naked body of the woman he loved, he only saw how much pain she was in, and wanted to find some way, any way possible, to help her.

“It’s okay, I’m here” he cooed into her ear, gently rolling side to side in a rocking motion.

She turned then, flipping over on to her belly so that they were chest to chest, her head on his shoulder and her arms wrapping around his torso beneath the water. She was still crying, but more softly, more in control, more present. He looked down the expanse of her bare back, the swell of her buttocks bobbing just above the water line. He saw her tattoo, something she kept mostly hidden from him, and he reached out to trace his finger over it, and endless circle against her skin. His chin quivered and he closed his eyes, keeping his breath steady so she wouldn’t sense the tears that were breaking free from his eyes, rolling down to drop into her hair. He brushed them away, his wet hand spreading even more water on his face, which would only help hide what he wanted to shield her from. Her cries subsided slowly, and then stopped altogether as the water grew tepid. He felt her body stiffen, and knew that she had returned to a level of awareness that made her uncomfortable with how exposed she was and the intimate nature of what they were doing. He lifted his hand to brush her hair from her face tenderly.

“Let me get you a towel, okay?”

She slithered away from him, pulling arms and legs into position to shield her breasts and vulva from view so that he could step out, his soaked boxer shorts clinging to his anatomy. He pulled a towel from the rack and held it open, high enough that it would block his view of her, and she stood so he could wrap it around her tiny frame as she stepped onto the bath mat. He hugged her toweled form to his chest, kissing the crown of her head.

“I’m sorry” she murmured.

He pulled back a bit and looked at her face with confusion.

“For what?” He asked, his voice full of concern.

She shook her head. “I’m a mess” she finally said, her eyes on the floor.

He hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him.

“Of course you are. It’s okay to be a mess sometimes, Scully. It’s nothing to be sorry for.”

The ache in her eyes told him that she felt guilty for needing him, for being weak.

“Let me take care of you. Please.” He implored, and she closed her eyes and nodded softly.

Stepping away from her, he grabbed a second towel and wrapped it around his waist, reaching underneath to pull off his wet underwear and draping it over the side of the tub before slipping his hand under the water to pull the plug.

“come on, let’s get you dressed,” he directed her, putting his hand on her back as they walked to her bedroom.

She sat on the edge of her bed, exhausted but seemingly out of tears to shed for the moment.

“There are some clothes of yours, in the bottom drawer” she said absently over her shoulder, and he pulled it open to find clean boxers, sweatpants and t shirts, all items he’d noticed go missing at one time or another.

“You starting a collection, G-woman?” He teased her, and he was relieved to see her shoulders lift in the tiniest of chuckles. It was something.

He pulled on dry clothes, not concerned that she might turn and see him nude, then started looking through her other drawers for something she might like to wear.

“Do you want pajamas?” He asked, and she shrugged noncommittally. She didn’t care.

He grabbed some silk pajama pants, a black t shirt that looked like it would be comfortably baggy, and then paused at the smaller top drawers he knew would contain her bras and underwear. Which would be more intrusive; going into her underwear drawer or dressing her commando? He glanced at her over his shoulder and quietly opened the drawer. What was most readily available were black cotton briefs, and he snagged a pair to add to the pile of clothes. Towards the back, he could see lace, and red, pink and blue somethings. He glanced over his shoulder again; she had fallen to her side, her back still to him, head on the pillow. With preemptive guilt, he plucked at the red lace with his fingertips, pulling forward an impossibly tiny thong. He felt a little stirring in his pants and shoved it back in, chastising himself for thinking about her like that in a time like this. He closed the drawer and set the pile of clothes on her nightstand, kneeling down on the floor beside her. Her eyes were open and staring at nothing. She was there, but not. He touched her arm gently to get her attention.

“Scully? There are some clothes for you here. I’m going to order dinner, is there anything in particular that sounds good to you?”

Her eyes focused on him as though she’d only just realized he was there.

“What?”

“What do you want to eat?” He pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

She sighed deeply before responding. “I don’t know, Mulder. I’m not sure I can eat.”

“I’ll have to order something really, really good then, so you can’t resist,” he smiled softly at her.

She pushed her mouth into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay.”

He left her to get dressed and ordered pizza from her favorite place, then picked through her DVD collection and opted for something silly and light. Just when he was about to go check on her, she emerged from her bedroom dressed in the clothes he’d picked out and looking slightly more alert. She stopped to look at the opening credits playing on the TV.

“Weekend at Bernies?” She asked with raised eyebrows.

“You own it, Scully, don’t try to act like you don’t like it.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, having no retort for that fact, and sat beside him on the couch, folding her legs beneath her. Mulder appraised her out of the corner of his eye; she looked better, a little bit anyway. They watched the movie in companionable silence, Scully smiling but not laughing at the funny parts, until a knock on the door alerted them that dinner had arrived. After paying the delivery boy, he plopped it unceremoniously on the coffee table and grabbed a roll of paper towels.

“Whose apartment are we at, Mulder?” She asked him with a teasing tone, and he got up to retrieve two plates as well two beers from the fridge. “That’s more like it” she declared, and he was relieved by how much she sounded like herself.

They enjoyed upwards of an hour of something resembling normalcy, but he knew that didn’t mean they were out of the woods. While people like to see grief as a concentrated experience that is constant until it disappears, he knew that it operated more like waves against a shore; sometimes gently lapping, sometimes receding into almost nothing, sometimes crashing suddenly without warning. He would enjoy this still water, ready to hold her up when it returned to knock her on her ass, if she’d let him.

She didn’t eat much, picking at one slice of pizza until it was eventually gone, but she did finish her beer and then lay down, not resisting when he picked up her bare feet and set them in his lap, brushing his thumbs gently against the arches in an almost-foot rub. As the movie approached its conclusion, he glanced at her and saw that her eyes were again wet and shining, though her expression was neutral. He squeezed the foot in his hand and she looked at him, offering a sad smile.

“You wanna go to bed?” He asked, and she nodded. It wasn’t yet 9pm, but she was exhausted from emotion.

He stood and offered his hands to pull her to her feet, pausing to wrap her up in a brief hug before he escorted her to her bedroom. He wanted desperately to be near her, but he also knew that she often chose solitude when she was sad, and the fact that she’d allowed him to be here as long as she had was likely the limit of what he was going to get. Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d let him sleep on the couch. He was considering how to make this request as he pulled back the covers and tucked her into bed, sitting beside her hip on top of the comforter. She took his hand and looked at him in the soft light seeping in from the living room with something like trepidation in her eyes.

“Will you stay?” She asked, and the doubt in her voice shocked him.

“Of course I will,” he answered, squeezing her hand. “I can crash on the couch.”

She shook her head gently. “Will you stay here, with me?”

That lump was back, constricting his voice, so he just smiled at her and nodded, crawling over her legs to lay down behind her on top of the comforter, draping his arm over her waist. They were quiet for a while, but he could feel the buzzing of her thoughts and knew she wasn’t sleeping. It was getting chilly as night fell, and he shivered in his T shirt and sweats.

“Are you cold?” She asked, turning her face to the ceiling in an attempt to look at him.

“I’m okay” he lied.

“Get under the covers,” she ordered, and he complied, the warmth of her tiny body a welcome reprieve from the chill of the room. He returned his arm to its station at her waist and she took his hand under the blankets, clutching it to her belly. She sighed deeply.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, sensing that she wanted to talk.

She rolled on to her back, not releasing his hand, and looked at the ceiling as she spoke. “I just…” she started then stopped, and he watched quietly as a tear escaped the side of her eye and trailed down into her ear. “I feel like I don’t know what to do, how to move forward. Being a mother was always what I pictured for my future, and knowing that I’ll never be one….” She stopped again, wiped her free hand at her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was tight and pained. “I feel like I have no purpose. I know it’s stupid and I don’t believe at all that a woman’s only function in life is to bear children, but I still find myself feeling like my life holds no meaning now. What’s the point of this life if I’ll have nothing to show for it, no legacy to leave?”

He felt his own chin quiver and he pulled her to him, burying her face in his chest and wrapping his arms around her back, cocooning her against his body with her toes brushing his shins. He let out a shuddering breath as quiet tears rolled across the bridge of his nose and into the pillow, rubbing her back and willing himself to regain control. How could he tell her that he felt the same way? When his mom was gone, he would have no one on this Earth who was family to him. He would leave no legacy, at least not one he could be proud of. All he had was her, and she was questioning her worth.

“That’s not true, Scully,” he whispered, whispering being all he could manage through his emotions. “You can’t think like that. For one, this doesn’t have to be the end of the road for you, there are other options, other ways you can be a mom. And even if you choose not to pursue those, you have touched so many lives, mine included. Don’t ever think you won’t leave a legacy.”

She didn’t reply, just sobbed against him, clutching at his back until weariness overtook her and she drifted into a fitful sleep. Mulder stayed awake for a long time, enjoying the proximity to her that he so rarely experienced, the gentle thrum of her heart beating against his sternum a reminder that for all they had lost, they still had each other. At some point, he joined her in the reprieve of unconsciousness.

When he woke, the room was dim though the clock told him it was after 8am. He could hear the patter of rain against the window; a dreary, grey day to complement their broken hearts. He turned to see Scully still sleeping, her plump lips slightly parted and her blonde eyelashes fluttering with dreams. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but now was not the time. He didn’t want her to think it was borne of pity, or sadness, or anything other than an unabashed desire to touch and love her the way she deserved, the way he’d wanted to for years. Reluctantly, he left the warmth of her bed and body to use the bathroom and then start a pot of coffee.

When she emerged 40 minutes later, he was sitting on the couch in silence, a cup of coffee in his hands and his feet on the table.

“Morning” he greeted her with a warm smile, and he felt his heart clench when she walked right over and sat beside him, leaning into his torso so he would wrap an arm around her shoulders, her head on his chest. He had the distinct feeling that she had missed him from her bed and sought out the comfort of his physical presence, and he placed a kiss to the crown of her head in appreciation. “Sleep okay?”

“Okay enough,” she answered.

“Do you feel up to going out for breakfast? Or I can go pick it up and bring it back here, if you want.”

“No, I should get dressed and attempt to be a functioning human at some point” she said, sitting up extracting herself from his embrace. “Give me 30 minutes?”

“I’ll be here, take your time” he replied, and she retreated to the bathroom where he heard the shower come on. Her change in demeanor lifted his spirits, and her acceptance of his comfort drew a smile to his lips. Though he hated the circumstances, he couldn’t deny how good the physical closeness felt. He knew that she’d likely put her walls back up without warning, and vowed to enjoy it while it lasted.

After a short wait, they snagged a booth at one of Scully’s favorite breakfast spots that offered things beyond pancakes and bacon; scrambles on a bed of greens with whole cloves of garlic and house made potatoes were just what she needed. He was happy to see her actually eat and they chatted idly about a case they were planning to fly out on next week, some bureau gossip and the merits of jam versus jelly. During a lull in conversation, he saw Scully glance behind him toward the door and her face fell. He turned to look and immediately knew that the very pregnant woman talking to the hostess was the source of her demeanor change. He slipped out from his side of the booth and sidled up next to her on her side, taking her hand under the table wordlessly.

“I know this is going to sound really terrible,” she spoke in a hushed tone, “but this whole experience has made me really hate pregnant women. I feel angry at them for being able to get pregnant when I can’t.” He easily identified the shame in her statement.

“I think that’s pretty normal. I’ve always kind of hated people with normal families and parents who give them the time of day. It’s not very productive, but it can be pretty cathartic, at least in my experience.”

She looked at him skeptically. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, I’m serious. When I see a two parent family with a boy and a girl, having a nice time out at the park or whatever, some part of my brain thinks ‘I hope they drop their ice cream cone on the pavement.’”

Scully laughed. The sound paired with the broad smile on her face were like fireworks and he beamed at her.

“That’s messed up, Mulder. I like it.”

“I bet that lady’s baby will come out with one of those smushed cone heads” he offered.

“I bet she has heartburn so bad she hasn’t slept in weeks” she retorted, smiling guiltily.

#XFMissing2021 #the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files

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