Archive: Ephemeral and Gossamer – yes. Everyone else would be fine, too, only please let me know where.
Keywords: MSR, PWP
Category: S, V
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Twentieth Century Fox. No infringement intended.
Summary: “I don’t believe in love anymore.”
Authors Notes: A haiku written by the very talented Toniann inspired this story. Special thanks to Char and Philiater for the exceptional get-well fics they wrote after I burned my hand in an unfortunate cooking incident (LOL!). This little bit ‘o fluff is for you, girls!
And to Sallie, for being an angel and beta’ing this story for me. Godiva showers to you, sweetie!
My lips crush against hers, battling for domination. She pushes away.
“I don’t need you to prove anything to me, Mulder.”
But that’s just another in a long line of lies she’s told me in the interest of saving face. I have much to prove. You see, I just heard the most improbable, most ridiculous thing pour from
those sweet lips. Something I never thought I’d hear –
“I don’t believe in love anymore.”
I couldn’t bear it, not coming from her. There has to be something sacred left in this godforsaken world.
“Unacceptable,” I answered roughly, and crossed the room to pull her into my arms before she had a chance to yank herself away. She looked frightened, stunned; God help me, aroused.
I look down into her determined face with determination of my own. She shrinks under my gaze and looks away.
“You’re wrong, Scully.” I take a step forward; she takes a step back.
Shaking her head, she looks everywhere but at me. “This is crazy. It doesn’t make a difference anyway.”
Step forward; step back.
“You’re so wrong, it’s not even funny.” I respond. I don’t recognize my own voice, drenched as it is in unguarded emotion. How can she not know?
“Look, Mulder,” she begins shakily. “This is very personal, okay? I never should’ve brought it up. Just forget it.”
I shake my head slowly, tilting her chin up to force her to look at me.
Step forward; step back.
“Sorry, partner. Can’t do that.”
She gasps as her back makes contact with the wall.
“You see, it’s not that easy.” I trace a finger along her jaw line, thrilling at the shiver she can’t hide at my touch. “I won’t accept that from you.”
I bend to taste of her creamy neck, shaking in response to her hitched breathing. “Wh-what?” she gasps.
My kisses become wetter as I trail them to the hollow of her throat; the pale shoulder I expose to the cool air. I want to taste every blessed inch of this woman, need to savor her flavor as if my
very life depended on it. She’s my one true obsession. My addiction.
Slowly, I unbutton her shirt, revealing perfectly rounded breasts above the black fabric of her bra. I sample the silken texture of them, pushing her shirt away to hang at her sides. Her back arches, pushing her into me as I nip and tug at the taut nipples beneath the slip of lace and satin.
“What are you doing to me?” She asks
Nothing, Agent Scully, if not claiming what is
mine; what has always been mine.
She’s a wanton siren, azure eyes blazing beneath the thick blackness of her lashes; ripe, berried lips parted in invitation as she breathes erratically. I can almost hear her silent question – “Why now?” can almost taste the intense anticipation. It’s palpable. She slides against the wall; up, down, striving to grind herself against the groin that presses just a bit higher than where she needs it.
I roughly jerk her skirt up, bunching it around her waist. She cries out from the shock, and her eyes glow darker, needier. I reach down to pull off her panties and unzip my slacks.
Running a finger down the warm valley between her breasts, feeling the wild palpitation of her heart, I lean in to nuzzle at her ear.
“Deny it, Scully,” I whisper.
“Mulder . . .”
“Deny it. Deny what you know is real. Tell me you don’t believe in love. Tell me and I’ll make this stop, if that’s what you want. Because I’ve been trying to remember a time when I didn’t love you.”
Her lower lip quivers.
“I- I can’t.”
I can’t help the sigh of joy that spills into her ear. Lifting her from her high-heeled stance to wrap her legs around my waist, I’m amazed by how light she is. How her legs seem to have already
found a natural groove around my body. She snakes one slender arm around my neck, one to clutch around the wall dividing my rooms.
When I enter her, it’s almost more than I can bear. She’s so warm, so incredibly slick. We move erratically, desperate to absorb every second of this perfection, aching to pull each other in. Her heels dig into my lower back and her hands scrabble for better purchase on the wall behind us.
In a great gasp, she comes, shuddering against me as her inner walls tighten. I follow close behind.
She’s limp against me, both of us struggling for breath. I kiss her damp neck and slide us to the floor, cradling her in my lap.
“Now, about that statement; your ‘I don’t believe in love any more . . .’”
“Mulder,” she interrupts. “I want to believe.”
~ The End ~
Additional Note: Below is the beautiful haiku written by Toniann, which was the inspiration for this little story ~
I dare you: deny
how your blood burns hotter when
my skin touches yours
Isn’t that lovely?