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642stories · 8 months

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Story #80 "A Long River Running" 1/5

This is an X-Files fanfiction story.

Read it on AO3

Tons of gratitude to @cecilysass who did really amazing beta work here!

Chapter 1

On a Saturday night Mulder all of a sudden finds himself in a club. For the umpteenth time this evening, he wonders how he’s gotten there. Just a few hours before, he was reclining languidly on Scully’s couch, munching on a mushroom and pepperoni pizza, with a stack of long overdue reports successfully finished and waiting to be submitted first thing Monday morning. He suspected that such an unexpected urge to pull his weight on work was just an excuse. He suspected that Scully suspected it too. He didn’t really know whether he just wanted to avoid another lonely night or just missed seeing his lovely partner. Maybe a bit of both.

At some point, just a little over after ten, he asked if she wanted to watch a movie together and was rendered speechless by her straightforward “no”. He was so genuinely shocked that didn’t even realize how deeply her rejection hurt. Not until he heard the door latching behind him.

Ouch. Apparently, Scully’s perfect weekend night didn’t include his pathetic company. Then again, she probably just planned to take a bath and have an early night. After all, it was one hell of a week and it took its toll on her. He could see it in her tense posture and a dog-tired look on her face—her eyes, normally bright and sparkling, turned almost colorless. The makeup over the beauty mark above her upper lip, which she tended to cover with the meticulous precision of a pathologist, was half-smeared, and somehow the fact that she didn’t bother to fix it spoke volumes.

Normally an introvert through and through, tonight Fox Mulder desperately wanted to surround himself with other human beings. That said, returning to his sad bachelor’s dwelling wasn’t an option, so he strolled to the nearest club. The “Eden” sounded appealing. He’d heard of the place before. Just a few blocks away on foot. He walked.

Now that he’s inside though, he gives up on the whole thing. Somehow, it feels terribly wrong to drink himself into oblivion over something as mundane as Scully’s bubble bath. Is there anything else besides her bath routines and an occasional glass of wine she does to unwind? It strikes him like lightning—he has no idea how Scully spends her time out of the office. It’s not like she has any time to spend out of the office, Mulder chides himself. And if she did? Would she rather stay home and have a quiet night in or consider the invitation to join him in a club? In a new uber-hip fancy club in Georgetown. He had a feeling she’d like the place.

Inside, it’s dark but also blindingly white, with red accents popping here and there, and he catches the reflection of dozens of other Mulders in the mirrored walls around. There’s the longest bar he’s ever seen, across both sides of which are quirky bed-like leather booths. Barely dressed ladies are tangled around their sick-guns-6-pack-dreamy eyes gentlemen. The place is hyper-modern and everything screams “luxury”—from the futuristic décor of the bar to the obscenely huge but somewhat intimate, like a walk-in shower of a hotel’s suite, dance floor. In this upmarket night escape, wearing his jeans and a plain black t-shirt, Mulder feels ridiculously small and cheap.

The music is deafeningly loud, but he enjoys the repetitive boom-boom beat in his ears and lets his eyes wander to people on the dance floor. As he takes another swig of beer his gaze lands on the diminutive redhead and he almost chokes, immediately drawing a parallel with Scully. She’s a good few feet away and from where he stands, he doesn’t really see anything but a bit of her backside; still, the resemblance is uncanny. Mulder’s got to perch on the footrest of his barstool to get a better look, and when he does, he finds it nearly impossible to look away. He can’t not stare. It’s steaming hot and everything around him is in motion but at that moment he couldn’t care less.

For Mulder, time stops.

His eyes are glued to the woman moving with reckless abandon in the center of the white mirrored arena, and he’s mesmerized—by the cap of her hair flashing brightly under the ceiling lights, by how attuned to music her body is. In his mind, he can easily envision her as his gorgeous partner – looking at him sternly and playing by the book in the confines of the Hoover building, and secretly letting her hair down and going wild off the hours. A millisecond-long thought that it might actually be Scully springs to his mind, and Mulder feels himself harden against the denim fabric of his jeans.

He growls in frustration—it’s too dangerous of a feeling, multiplied by the combination of loneliness and boredom. He hardly ever allows himself to think of Scully this way. He has to remind himself time and again—he has no claim over her. She’s not his. Never been. Probably never will. However, as the seed of curiosity has already been sowed, he’s eager to take a chance with a beautiful stranger and let himself forget.

When Mulder first came to England and became a freshman at Oxford, he thought he had finally gotten free of his father’s silent blame and his mother’s inconsolable grief. As easy as it was to escape his parents’ judgmental looks, to assuage the pain of his own was anything but child’s play. Guilt-ridden and prone to self-flagellation, but also emboldened with the new-found freedom, Mulder swung between extremes.

On more occasions than remembers he found himself waking up in strange beds with women he barely recognized, in houses full of other broken souls smoking and drinking themselves into oblivion in a futile attempt to forget. Or forgive. Maybe a little of both. Restless and eager to unleash the beasts within the dusk, they looked pathetic and miserable in the first rays of the sun. And he was one of them. One sorry son of a bitch.

Mulder doesn’t want to contemplate his choices now and be reminded of what he doesn’t have. Can’t have.

That woman might not be Scully, but he can pretend she is Scully enough to make tonight special. Gulping what’s left of his drink, Mulder knocks the bottle back on the counter and starts moving towards his fiery-haired goal.

There are couples everywhere he turns—touching and grinding against each other in rapturous delight, but his mysterious lady sways on the dance floor seemingly alone. Her shirt clings like the second skin to her body, baring the slender curves of her shoulder blades and a strip of skin of her lower back.

As she lifts her hands to pull the red locks off her sweaty face Mulder catches a glimpse of the reddish ink carving a circle on the most perfect of canvases—the woman’s pale back. He’s seen it before. He knows it all too well.

An ouroboros. The Ouroboros. A painful reminder of how reckless Dana Scully can be. Right on the spot he’s all too familiar with. The spot he claims to be his.

“Scully.”

Mulder’s heart somersaults in his chest, jubilant at the beautiful vision in front of him, and he starts moving faster, fighting his way through the milling crowd of sweaty bodies. He’s never seen her like that — uninhibited, careless as a child, and weightless as a bird.

And for fuck’s sake, wearing the snuggest leather pants he’s ever seen! Jesus, he would have never pegged her as a clubber. His all buttoned-up and don’t-mess-with-me agent Scully in their dimly lit basement turns leather-pants-and-fuck-me-shoes Scully when the night falls. How come he never knew? They work together sixty hours a week—eat lunches, spend nights in adjoining rooms of cheap motels all over the country, and hang out at each other’s for movie nights and fucking reports. Hell, they are practically joined by the hip. Yet, he never knew. Apparently, once in a while, Dana Scully likes to take it easy. And that must be how she likes it.

He can’t stop wondering what else she’s been holding out on him. It stings that Scully kept her plans secret. It’s not like she lied to you, Mulder tries to reason with himself. Is it a girls’ night out? How often does she come here? What other provocative items may he find in her closet? Will she let him join him? Now? Ever? The questions keep piling in his head, not helping in any way but making him acutely aware of what a mystery Dana Scully is. Even after six years together, she keeps him guessing.

He’s almost there, so close that he imagines she can hear him over the roar of music if he’s loud enough. He takes another step — dancing bodies flowing around—and then stops dead. And so does his heart.

All of a sudden the balance of the entire universe has gotten upset. The blood in Mulder’s veins goes cold, his heart makes another spin and dives in. It doesn’t land gracefully like an elegant trampoline jumper but rather crashes into pieces, turning into an ugly mass and splotching everything around in bloody drops. If he bothers to check the watch on his wrist, he’ll see that the second hand, usually moving with fluid sweep, got stuck and convulses in agony.

He doesn’t. He can’t take his eyes away from Scully.

She dances with her face to him but looks somewhere over her shoulder, and Mulder watches fascinated as a strong male hand creeps from behind her back and moves unrestricted over the bare skin of her stomach. Possessively.

Scully. A second ago she was merely steps away; a second ago, she was his. Now she’s miles away from his reach – achingly unattainable, someone else’s woman.

She half turns her head to the stranger behind and covers his mouth with her lips, her right arm goes around his neck, encouraging the guy to get even closer. As if it is fucking possible. The bile starts rising in the pit of his stomach, and Mulder turns away and strides in the direction of the toilets.

There’s a white gender-neutral bathroom with a row of neat white stalls, and Mulder yanks the first door open, relieved to find it unoccupied. He plunks himself down on the toilet seat, squeezes his eyes shut, and presses the heels of his palms over them.

He doesn’t know what to do or think. A man. Dana Scully has a man. She looks like she wants to get laid. She wants to get laid. And not with him. The liquified ache pools over the glass of his heart, and Mulder’s urge to wallow in his misery and sink his pain in the bottle returns with a new passion.

He’s gotta get out of here. Now. One minute to relieve himself, another minute to splash cold water on his face. Just as he gets out of his stall and takes a step towards the exit, the door bangs to the wall and a kissing couple rolls into the room.

Giggling drunkenly, the woman almost trips over the guy’s long legs causing him to break the kiss. She starts checking the doors for an unoccupied and relatively clean stall, oblivious to someone else’s presence in the room. One of the doors jerks open and a short plump man comes out, bumping her with his shoulder on his way to the sinks. The woman shoots him an incredulous look and then finally notices another person — a tall guy, watching her intently over the shorty’s head. Her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open. Her voice, when she finally finds it, is barely a whisper.

“Mulder.” Fuck.

P.S. The "Eden" club was inspired by the real place. Here it is :)

#writing in english #creative writing #x files fanfic #agents clubbing #Scully has a life #jealous Fox Mulder #MSR #xf fanfic #english is my second language

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shhhhimwatchingthis · 2 months

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just started the X-Files after years of Pop Culture osmosis, parody, references and memes

But holy shit did none of you prepare me for the pathetic wet cat rizz of Fox Mulder. Puppy dog eyes every other scene. He loses every stand off with every other government agent, military op, co-worker he bumps into. Sassy little quips in between getting his ass kicked and the puppy dog eyes. he's deeply traumatized. he has no social life. he never knows whats going on. he's one of the smartest people in any room he's in and knows more than most what's going on.

This guy is just sopping wet vibes, desperate need to believe, and love for Scully. Character of all time.

#the x files #x files #fox mulder #dana scully #x files season one #he drinks his respect women juice #he has a tragic past #he tries so hard #whats not to love #and contratsed with scully who is angry cool wicked smart tough as hell would trust her with my life

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gingerteaonthetardis · 7 months

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The X-Files Season 3 + close talking

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bisexualfbiagents · 7 months

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Never give up on a miracle.

THE X FILES GIF MEME [6/20] EPISODES Per Manum (8.13)

#the x files #txf #dailytxf #txfedit #xfilesnet #fox mulder #dana scully #john doggett #txfmeme #memeepisodes #mine #per manum #8x13 #tw fetus ??#this episode has so. many. fetuses.#anyway this episode makes me ***** ***#thinking about watching this for the first time and SCREAMING when the elevator doors open and mulder's there #like that's him!!!!!! he's here!!!!!!!!!#anyway dana katherine scully love of my life why do you have to suffer i could save you

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silo1013 · 11 months

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salvaged from the office fire in 1998

#my art #the x files #dana scully #fox mulder #alex krycek #i was talking about this on twitter yesterday but #i have a LOTTTTTT a lot of thought about this part of season two #mainly because i think that while scully probably realized she was never going to find peace ever again after emily #i do believe that the last time mulder ever thought everything would be okay was right before scully’s abduction #which is also kind of why i think mulder was closer to killing himself in ascension than in gethsemane #at the end of season four mulder is kind of resigned to his and scully’s lives unravelling #he’s more suspicious and slower to trust then he ever was #while ascension was the first time he was like. Oh okay. It’s over for us forever and ever #and the fact that he was still open and still kind of okay before that just kind of makes it worse #that he was just betrayed and left hanging and lost everyone he thought he had in one fell swoop #ascension jades the fuck out of him and you can see it. like through the whole series there are threads of it #his tendency to rely on skinner regresses for a while. he becomes even less functional when scully is gone.#he has far less patience for his informants and he refuses to rely on anyone the way he tried to on krycek #like it’s just. such an obvious shift in his character that you can tell his mindset about his and scully’s life has changed #and that’s a huge part of the show’s tragedy i think. there is no peace. there is no rest. it’s never going to be okay

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cupothi · 4 months

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practiced using a new brush set by drawing misc pictures i found on pinterest

#dw #doctor who #doctor who fanart #david tennant #sacha dhawan #peter capaldi #christopher eccleston #x files #the x files #txf fanart #9th doctor #ninth doctor #fox mulder #dana scully #sorry ive only been drawing using reference pics as of late #college has been rotting my brain and i cant come up with original stuff #such is life i suppose

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carefulfears · 1 year

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thinking about scully sitting on the floor of mulder’s apartment just holding him as he wept after his mother’s death and after she told him through tears that it’s time to stop. it’s time to stop looking for his sister.

and how she had already told him that once, seven years earlier, a month into their partnership, when she chased him out of a police station and told him to stop running after his sister because it won’t bring her back.

she called after him to just stop, because she’s the scientist, and that’s the logical conclusion that she had reached.

except later that night, he told her why he does it. that he’s been closing his eyes and walking into that room, thinking maybe, when he opens them, his sister will be there, since he was 12 years old. “every day” of his life.

and she never told him to stop again.

until seven years later, when she rocked him on the floor, and then the next day was asked “why do you want to bring all this back up now?” and answered, “someone owes it to mulder.”

so she started looking. she reopened files, she tracked down records, she went to his mother’s house to dig through the trash. she confronted CSM about what he knew, she flew to california, she held hands and prayed.

she looked at mulder and said “it hurts me to tell you this” and stayed steady in the truth anyway. she listened to him read to her about a 14-year-old girl’s pain, held his hand and told him to get some sleep. she stayed up, kept looking, and found it. “i got it, mulder. i couldn’t believe it when i saw it. it was like it was looking for me.”

the police report from when samantha ran away.

she read the hospital records, went to the home of the nurse who signed the intake report, asked him if he wanted her to go herself.

she left him by the car and walked up and knocked, asked about a patient in 1979. she listened as the nurse described how “you couldn’t forget her or how frightened she was. scared for her sweet life.” and the man who came for her, who wouldn’t put out his cigarette.

earlier the day before, she had been told to just stop. “word of advice, me to you: let it be. you know, there’s some wounds that are just too painful ever to be reopened.”

and she had responded, “this particular wound has never healed. and mulder deserves closure.”

after seven years, she knows now, that you can’t just stop chasing. she knows how heavy grief is, and she‘s seen the effects of carrying it alone. of walking into the worst night of your life every day, eyes closed, hopeful.

you can’t just stop, and you can’t really have closure, but you can help someone carry it.

and ultimately, that’s what made this the end of the road. sometimes the heaviest burden of grief is feeling that pain is all there is left of someone, and that alleviating it would be to abandon them.

scully’s right, this wound has never closed, but there’s freedom in shared remembrance and shared dedication. she doesn’t ask him to stop until he’s ready to know the truth, and she’s willing to find it. she doesn’t ask him to rest until it’s safe for him to, because it’s not forgetting samantha. she knows and she remembers.

#i’m having a tough week thank you all for your consideration #i forgot that that police report file just found her. god #these girls love mulder so much #they’re always working in tandem #it means so much esp with the death of his mother that someone else in the world just remembers #it’s mulder in the pilot saying ‘no one ever talked about it’ and how everyone just pretended she never existed #it’s the childhood photos that scully sees burnt in the trash #everyone tried to just erase her from existence so much that mulder had to dedicate his entire life to remembering her #but it’s lighter now #someone else knows #someone else knows that they spent their summers playing baseball and that they argued over the tv and that he’s looked for her #in every room that he has ever been in #someone else knows what happened to her and the horror that she suffered and how she wrote that they didn’t even treat her like a person #how she wrote that she just wishes she could see her brother’s face #sometimes that matters more than any reveal or any truth or any conspiracy #she’s going to be remembered and she’s going to be thought of and loved #even if he goes home and gets some sleep #even if he stops looking #txf.txt #closure #sein und zeit

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tenrosedyke · 9 months

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jealous dana scully is something that can actually be so personal. because she's so logical and level headed and is like very solid at keeping her feelings in check about like, absolutely anything, but the second another woman has any kind of relationship with mulder shes just like Oh I Hate This. a cute detective flirted with him once and she was so frazzled she started chain smoking in her hotel room. icon

#so interesting because between the two of them youd automatically assume mulder is the more jealous one #and he definitely has his jealous moments but its nothing compared to scullys dramatic ass #shes the love of my life...#txf #dana scully #msr

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limnsaber · 25 days

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Scully: “Mulder, it's the dim hope of finding that proof that's kept us in this car, or one very much like it for more nights than I care to remember. Driving hundreds if not thousands of miles through neighborhoods and cities and towns where people are raising families and buying homes and playing with their kids and their dogs, and... in short, living their lives. While we - we just keep driving.”

Scully wants a life!!! Scully wants a dog and a family and she wants kids!!! She wants more than that endless line!!! But she wants Mulder more than she wants that!!! And she wants most of all that life with Mulder!!!!!!!

“Don’t you have a life Scully?” “Keep it up Mulder and I’ll hurt you like that beast-woman.”

“I wish I could say that we were going in circles, but we’re not. We’re going in an endless line.”

“Don’t you ever just want to stop? Get out of the damn car, live something approaching a normal life?”

#Scully wants a life where she has kids and a family and a house and dogs. but she wants that! With Mulder!!#the x files #txf #x files #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #aughhysgh #lim posts #Lim on txf

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clo-thespin · 1 month

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"I watched a reasonable amount of x files bloopers, so i could accurately describe GA's laugh"

best ao3 tags ive ever seen

(food for thought by mytardisisparked)

#gillian anderson #the x files #dana scully #ao3 #ao3 tags #x files fic rec #fic rec #fanfiction #no but fr #gillians laugh has to be analysed #even if youre not turning it into words #just analyse it #its the best thing youll hear #in your whole life

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642stories · 8 months

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Story #84 "A Long River Running" 5/5

This is an X-Files fanfiction story.

Read it on AO3

Chapter 5

She would expect their first kiss to be no more than a whisper-light peck. A chaste brush of his lips along the line of her jaw while his thumbs stroke her cheekbones almost imperceptibly.

Instead, Mulder answers with a growl and a tongue in her mouth. One of his hands sinks deep into her hair, as the other covers her breast. She doesn’t hesitate to put her own arms around his neck to draw him closer.

In one swift move, he grabs her hips and pulls her down on the couch climbing on top of her, his legs straddling her hips, their upper bodies pressing against each other — not an inch in between. The sharp edge of the remote is digging into the small of her back, and as if their minds are working in sync, Mulder skims his hands down from her waist, lifts her hips, and tugs an offending piece of plastic from under her lower back. It lands somewhere on the floor.

He doesn’t stop kissing her for a second, their tongues engaged in a constant battle. With greedy hands, Scully untucks his t-shirt, her fingers moving upwards under the soft cotton — stroking, fondling, rubbing, groping like there’s no tomorrow. She wraps her legs around his waist — he’s hot and hard in all the right places, under her palms, and against her core, panting into her mouth and pushing her deeper into the cushions.

He wants to succumb to temptation and just kiss her. Fuck her senseless right there on the floor in her living room and make sweet love to her in her bed. They are really doing it. There’s no way to reverse it back.

Her eyes are heavy-lidded and her hands run frantically along the smooth expanse of his back under the black tee. With little nimble fingers, she starts working on the buckle of his belt. At the feel of her cool hand sneaking under his pants, he jerks back and, overwhelmed, draws his face away from her lips and buries it in the crook of her neck.

“Jesus,” he takes a moment to catch his breath and then cups her face in his hands.

Scully nudges the tip of his nose with her own when his forehead falls forward against hers, fingers running over the stubble of his cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says and she gives him a dazzling smile, her eyes are large and luminous.

“Tell me that you want it. Tell me that you won’t regret it,” he pleads and she rolls her eyes fondly at him.

“You have too many clothes on, Mulder,” she says, twisting her hand in his hair and pulling him closer for another kiss.

That’s all the confirmation he needs.

With newly awakened ferocity, his mouth starts ravishing hers. Scully arches her back, and he shoves his hand roughly up underneath her shirt and bra, craving for skin-on-skin contact. Everything around them is buzzing. Her head is buzzing, the whole apartment is buzzing, maybe even the whole neighborhood. She feels fevered like she teeters on the brink of the parapet, almost falling into the abyss of insanity. What that man is capable of — he is going to be her undoing, and she isn’t about to stop it.

Scully squeezes her thighs tighter around his waist and the next moment she’s on the top, sitting on Mulder’s rod steel erection. Not a modicum of reserve is left in the room at that point. That couch is all ready to be defiled.

There’s a fleeting thought in Scully’s mind that they should probably be quieter — it’s two in the morning and the walls in this building are literally made of cardboard. She would never describe herself as a loud type but maybe tonight she’s going to let herself be heedless of what her neighbors may think. A good thing about it is that whatever they might think, it will probably be deserved. She doesn’t give a damn. This night is about love.

Love.

The feeling she could swear was unnamable only a couple of hours ago, is pretty much the one Scully marks now in her mind as love, sparked by lust and fueled by their emotional volatility.

“May I take this off?” Mulder peers up at her and tugs at her shirt.

She smirks and lifts her eyebrows playfully. It doesn’t take long for their clothes to end up on the floor, not far from a long-forgotten remote.

When she opens her eyes a few hours later, Mulder lies on his side, his face oriented nose to nose to hers on the pillow. If he weren’t so hypnotized by her eyes blinking sleepily at him, he’d see the stars - backlit by the approaching dawn - disappear into the first rays of the sun.

There’s a much more interesting sight to behold in front of him.

“Why are you awake?” Scully’s voice creaks and she moves closer, fully determined to burrow herself into his side.

“Can’t take my eyes off of the beauty I have here.” He kisses the top of her hair, his voice an intimate whisper.

“Go back to sleep,” Scully hums into his chest, stroking it tenderly.

“Having any regrets?” At his offhand question, she tightens her arms around him.

“None.”

“Good,” he nods, his lips brushing her temple.

The comfortable silence falls between them, and then Scully mumbles sleepily. “You know, I read lots of poetry back at university. There’s one thing in particular that comes to mind when I think of you.”

“I’m intrigued,” Mulder sounds truly interested.

Scully props herself up on one elbow, her chin resting on her hand.

“Love between us is

speech and breath. Loving you is

a long river running.” Sonia Sanchez.”

“Impressive.”

“Loving you is a long river running, Mulder.” She beams at him, and there’s so much sun in that smile that for a moment he thinks he might fall totally blind. He doesn’t mind at all.

“Why is that?”

Scully lays her cheek back on his chest and runs her fingers through the coarse hairs on his chest. “The long river never expires.”

Again, he doesn’t say a thing but Scully thinks she can hear him sniffing discreetly.

“You are not crying there, are you?”

Mulder lets out a muffled laugh and pulls her even closer “Only happy tears.”

#writing in english #creative writing #x files fanfic #agents clubbing #Scully has a life #jealous Fox Mulder #MSR #xf fanfic #english is my second language

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