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Following the momentum, he grabs her hands from her sides, and pins them above her head, pressing her wrists into the bedding. Suddenly, she feels a tightness spreading across her chest. Her eyes dart around erratically and her body stiffens.

Mulder notices this change and slows his pace, expecting her breath to slow with him, but it only quickens. 

“Scully, are you okay?” He stops moving completely, still holding her wrists. He inspects her face, her body. The primitive, sexual expression seemed to instantaneously disappear, and all he sees in her now vacant eyes is fear. 

“Mulder, please stop,” she whispers. 

He immediately pulls out, and moves to sit next to her. 

“What do you need?” He asks cautiously, not daring to reach out and touch her until she’s given him the okay. 

She curls into the fetal position, her breath so rapid she begins to wheeze. 

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening–” she stops and begins to cry, hiding her face in her hands. 

“Can I touch you?” Mulder asks, almost unable to restrain himself from taking her into his arms. 

She shakes her head, still heaving into her hands. 

Desperate for a way to be helpful, he tries again. “Can I get you some water?” 

She nods in between sobs. He jumps from the bed, running to the kitchen. She lay, listening to him slamming cupboards looking for a cup. She knew the thought of him running buck naked through her apartment, frantically looking for a water glass, would make her laugh later. But now, she tries to focus on nothing but her breath, and why the hell she was suddenly submerged in panic. That was gearing up to be the best sex of her life. What the fuck was happening.

He comes back in with a glass of water and a wet washcloth. 

“Here, sit up, baby.” 

She does, bringing her knees to her chest. She sips slowly, attempting to use the water to force her breath to calm. She sets the cup on her nightstand and hides her face in her knees as she cries. She reaches for him without lifting her head. He immediately scoops her curled body into him, holding her head against his chest. He rocks her gently, rubbing the hot skin on her back with the cool washcloth.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe,” he repeats over and over. 

Finally, her breathing slows and she pulls away, looking at him, her eyes so puffy he can hardly see the heavenly blue he so often gets lost in. 

“Mulder, I don’t know what happened. Everything was amazing. Seriously. And then all of the sudden–” she stops, searching for the right word. 

“Panic?” He takes one of her hands in his, maintaining a light caress with his thumb. 

“Yeah,” she exhaled. “It was just, when my arms were over my head and I couldn’t move I–” she can feel the panic bubbling again in her chest. She stops, taking a shaky breath. 

“Did it trigger a memory?” He asks tentatively. 

She looks down, picking at the dry skin around her cuticles, and nods. 

“Scully, I am so sorry. This is why I was trying to be so gentle with you, I–” 

“No, Mulder,” she interrupts in frustration. “I don’t want you to be scared of hurting me! That makes me feel worse. This was probably the best sex I’ve ever had–”

“Yeah, up until that moment. Up until I took it too far–” his voice cracks and he looks away. “I’m so sorry, I know this isn’t about me. I am just so terrified of hurting you. You saw how I reacted to a fucking tissue on your bathroom floor. It’s just the thought of you being sick again, or of you being hurt, is…” he tries to think of the right word but simply says, “too much.” 

She looks at him with new tears in her eyes. “Mulder, no one has made me feel safer, and more loved, than you.” 

He meets her gaze and smiles half-heartedly. “Scully, I’m so sorry.” 

“Please stop saying that,” she rubs the crinkled skin at the bridge of her nose. “You know my history, and if you’re going to be in this with me, I need to know you’re not going to–” she pauses to harness her courage, “not going to make it about you when this happens.” 

She surveys his face, searching for any hint of offense or anger. Her head tilts at the softness of his expression. 

“Scully, I want nothing more than to be in this with you.” She returns his smile, releasing her defensive exterior. He cares so much, and she knows it.

He continues, “I won’t make it about me. I want to be with you as we figure out what works, and what doesn’t.” 

She nods, taking his hand in hers. “Thank you.” 

He brings her hand up with both of his and kisses her skin gently, and slowly. He reaches out, massaging up her forearm lighty. 

“Are you hungry? I could go heat up the food or–” 

Her expression changes suddenly. She cuts him off with a kiss, pressing her lips to his with as much love and gratitude as she could muster. 

“The food isn’t going anywhere, Mulder.” 

With a firm hand against the center of his chest, she pushes him back onto the bed.  

“I want to try something. 

She leans down to meet his form on the now very disheveled comforter, arching her chest into his as she kisses him, running her tongue along his bottom lip. 

Straddling him, her hips begin to rock in rhythm with their kisses, rubbing her damp folds over his hardening length. 

“Scully, are you sure?” Mulder mumbles between sloppy kisses. 

“Yes,” she responds quickly, positioning him at her opening. 

“You have complete control,” he starts, the end of his words devolving into a groan as she slides down him, tightening her muscles as hard as she can. 

She closes her eyes, keeping her hand pressed into his chest, as she rides him. 

“Mmm,” she moans as she rolls her hips back and forth. The head of his thickness repeatedly hitting her g-spot making her whimper. 

Enjoying feeling so full, but unable to shake the tightness spread across her chest, she grabs his wrists and presses them into the mattress above his head. Hovering above his mouth, holding his hands, she quickens the speed of her hips. 

He smiles at her, in awe of her power, and meets her rhythm with a sudden thrust. At the contact she cries out, the sound almost like a scream in its intensity. 

“Are you okay?” Mulder asks, retreating again. 

“I’m fine,” she responds through gritted teeth. Her jaw clenched so tight he could see every tendon protruding in her neck. He lifts his head up to kiss her, but before his lips can reach hers she grabs a fist full of his hair, yanking his head back onto the bed. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he breathes, closing his eyes in submission. 

She quickens her pace even more. Normally, she’d be tumbling over the edge by now, screaming for him, begging him not to stop. Normally, she’d collapse onto him in a heap, unable to catch her breath, humming with content as he kissed her gently, using his lips to clean her, forgetting the mess they’d left on the sheets below. 

She grunts in frustration yearning to feel that fire wash over her. She starts bouncing up and down, slamming him into her with as much force as she can handle. The noises escaping her mouth sound like exhausted sobs, sobs muffled by the impact of skin striking skin. 

“Can I choke you?” She asks suddenly. 

“Oh my god, yes” he replies, his expression looking like a kid loose in a candy store. 

Releasing his hands, she wraps her french tipped fingers around his broad neck. Using both of her hands to cover his expanse, she feels his muscles tighten and pulse, throbbing as she squeezes. 

“Do you like that?” she spits, almost sinisterly. 

He nods, panting as she tightens her grip. 

“Scully, I’m gonna come,” he rasps. “Come with me.”

She lets go of his neck, pulling him up to meet her vertically. She circles her hips as quickly as she can, working her clit with one hand, digging her nails into his back with the other, leaving a thick red trail as she draws them down in frustration. 

“Please, please,” she whimpers, her eyes tightly shut, sweat dripping down her forehead. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she repeats, each more emphatic than the other. 

He grabs her hips, his hands so large they almost completely cover her lower back. He pulls her toward him once, twice, and with the third, he’s moaning into her neck. His body convulses and he grunts, staggered and uninhibited. 

She lets out a cry, one of exasperation, dropping her head onto his shoulder. 

They stay still for a moment, breathing together. Mulder kisses her sticky neck gently and slowly. 

She feels him soft inside her, and her stomach twists in a way that makes her think she might throw up. 

She slowly pulls off of him, and flops onto her destroyed comforter. 

Mulder pants, and lays next to her, no usual wandering hands reaching out to touch. “I can rally, I just need a minute.” 

“It’s okay Mulder, I finished.” 

He simply looks at her, a hint of hurt in his eyes that she would think he wouldn’t be able to tell. 

Defensively, she starts again, “I did!” 

“Scully, I know you.” He responds calmly, sensing her frustration. 

She puts her hands over her face, groaning angrily into her palms. She pulls them down, her eyes and face burning, “Mulder, did you enjoy that?” she asks, her words dripping with guilt. 

“Are you kidding?” he half laughs. “Scully–” he stops, unable to articulate the ways in which he could never not enjoy her. 

“I’m so sorry, maybe you should just go. I'm feeling weird and–” she stands up grabbing her crumbled robe off of her dresser. 

He sits up quickly, “Scully, don’t do that.” 

She ties the fabric around her, avoiding eye contact, “Don’t do what?” 

“Hey, look at me,” the intensity of his voice stopping her movements. 

“If you want to be alone, because you need to be alone, I’ll go. But don’t push me away because you’re scared. I’m here with you. I want to do this with you.” 

She looks at him, her face stone a moment, until her bottom lip begins to tremble. She brings one hand to her face, tapping the indent above her upper lip repeatedly with her fingers. 

Mulder sits on the edge of the bed, looking to her attentively, not daring to make any sudden movements. 

Through clenched teeth she starts quietly, “I don’t remember the last time I felt like I had control over anything in my life.”

He gulps in anticipation, but nods encouragingly. 

She looks at him shaking her head back and forth, flustered and overcome with anger. “I just– I feel like I’ve lost sight of myself. I had this idea of what my life would be like and it’s–” Her expression changes as if she’s watching an idyllic life pass through her mind, “It’s nothing like what I thought.” 

Mulder remains still, anticipating more, watching her pick furiously at her cuticles again. 

“I’m so fucking sick of things happening to me. I get a chip implanted in my neck, a chip that gives me cancer. They take my fucking ova out of my body, and no one thinks to tell me! You found them Mulder, you found my ova and you didn’t tell me! I mean, what the fuck!” 

She rubs her hands over her eyes, and pinches the skin at the bridge of her nose, not caring about the mascara that’s undoubtedly already smeared. She exhales slowly and steadily, her breath sounding almost like a hiss in it’s escape. 

“When I couldn’t move– when my arms were above my head, I felt like I did–” she gestures vaguely and breathes again, “and so I thought, if I did that to you, if I pinned you down and took away your control, I would–.” She shakes her head in disgust at herself, not even sure what exactly she was hoping for.  

Mulder, after waiting a moment to be sure she wasn’t going to speak again, starts calmly, “I have an idea of something we could try that might help, if you’re willing.” 

“What?” she spits, more harshly than she intended. 

“Well,” he begins carefully, “we could start a list.” 

She half laughs, half scoffs. “A list?” she looks at him, her skin wrinkling between her eyebrows. 

“Yeah, a list of things to avoid when we’re intimate together. Things that you know, and that we learn, will trigger you.” 

Her expression softens. In seeing this, he continues, “We can also have a list of things you want to try that will help you feel like you have the control you need.” 

They hold in a brief moment of silence. He starts again, “Does that sound like something you’d want to do?” 

She looks at him, watching his eyes flick back and forth trying to discern her answer. She lowers her head, and begins to laugh. 

“Scully–” he begins but stops as her laugh quickly turns into sobs. She sinks down to her knees, sitting on her ankles, crying with her arms wrapped around herself. 

He swiftly moves and kneels next to her, awaiting her next move, content to sit next to her in silent support forever if needed. 

“Can I–” but before he can finish she moves into his outstretched arms. 

He rubs her back, stroking her hair, resisting the tears pooling in his own eyes. He wants to hold this space for her. He wants to hold a space for her always. 

With his jaw hinged, he murmurs into her tousled hair, “I should have told you.” He breathes. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life wishing I did.” 

He feels her shake her head into his chest. He wraps his arms around her more tightly. 

Even quieter than before he whispers, “I love you so much.” 

She pulls away, and looks at him, her ocean eyes rendering him unable to move, think, or breathe. She kisses him softly. “I love you too.” She wipes the wetness from her face. “And I’d love to make a list,” she says through a halfhearted laugh. “Thank you.” 

He touches her still damp cheek with his hand, pulling her to him and kissing her forehead. 

His lips still pressed to her skin, she starts, “Mulder?” 

“Yes?” He pulls away to look at her, stiffening in preparation. 

“I’m so fucking hungry,” she almost whines in exasperation. 

They look at eachother and burst into laughter.  

“Me too,” he sighs, helping her up. Turning around briefly to throw on his pants, he hears Scully gasp quietly. 

Whipping around he turns to see Scully still, looking down. He follows her gaze to find his thick white oozing down her inner thigh. 

“Let me go clean up really quick,” she smiles, turning to retreat to the bathroom. 

“Hold on,” Mulder interrupts urgently. 

She stops, spinning to face him. Slowly, he kneels before her, bowing his head slowly. 

“Mulder, what’re you do–” she inhales sharply as his tongue meets the trail of his desire just below her knee. 

Looking up at her he says, “I want to clean up my mess.”

He draws his hot tongue slowly up her thigh, taking himself in, like warm honey, looking into her eyes the whole time. He reaches her folds, and she moans quietly as he drinks the remainder. 

He pulls away and, with his white warmth visible on his tongue, Scully bends down slowly. Commanding his stillness with her eyes, she opens her mouth, taking him– taking them in. A throaty moan erupts within her as their burning tongues tangle, their mixture coating her mouth in salty sweetness. 

They part, both beginning to pant, looking at each other, unable to find words. She falls into him, into a firm embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and nestling her head into his shoulder. They inhale and exhale together. 

“I’m going to go heat up the egg foo young,” she whispers, almost giddily, into his ear. 

He grins wide, watching her as she bounces around the corner to the kitchen. He moves to her nightstand to grab a pad and pen. Just as he’s shutting the door her voice booms through the walls. 

“Oh my god, my HAIR!”