the x files is maybe the funniest show ever cause almost always if they do something crazy to mulder or scully in an episode they do roughly that same thing to the other at some point.
were you disappointed that mulder spent all of unusual suspects messing around with the gunmen but scully didn't get to? three of a kind.
angry that scully keeps getting kidnapped or held hostage like in irresistible and our town? kill switch and drive.
annoyed that mulder went crazy in pusher and pulled a gun on scully instead of the other way around? wetwired.
tired of only mulder's exes showing up in fire and the end and making scully jealous? lazarus and all things.
mad that mulder was the only one to be intensely invested in the cases in conduit and paper hearts? beyond the sea and all souls.
frustrated that mulder got to have an ill-advised affair with a murder suspect in 3 and scully didn't? never again.
wish it had been mulder obsessively calling scully while she ignored him in favour of the case in war of the coprophages? chinga.
feel it's unfair that one of mulder's relatives got shot in anasazi while scully's family were all perfectly healthy? the blessing way.
find it odd that only scully had a brain tumour throughout her cancer arc? the gift.
irritated that in duane barry, ascension, and one breath, only scully got abducted and experimented on by aliens, then returned with little to no explanation and stuck in a weird coma for a while? requiem, this is not happening, and deadalive.
Summary: You weren’t expecting Mat to come back to you.
Pairing: mat barzal x f!reader
Word Count: 10,251
Warnings: post breakup, verbal disagreement, angst, make up sex, angst with a happy ending, second chance romance
A/N: happy freaky friday, i have returned lol. thank you to @m00nlightdelights for beta reading this and being my hype person, ily<3
Keep reading
do you have any gossamer specific fanfic recs?
I do, indeed! :DDD
Decided to pick authors who have crossover with each other, be it collaborations or dedicated mentions.
**Note**: There will be typos-- will edit them out later.
Loose chronological order below~
msk's
Home by Another Way
Neither of his parents had offered to come, so she'd stayed in North Carolina though it meant a run in with Blevens.
"You should have been with your family. Not hanging around my hospital room."
Truth be told, part of her hadn't wanted to come home and face the sadness.
Post Beyond the Sea Mulder and Scully bond over their fathers.
Final Arrangements
He'd insisted on bringing her home from the hospital, even though her mother had offered. Scully had sensed that it was important to him and had suggested her mother spend some time with Bill before he had to return to California.
Post Redux II Mulder finds Scully's pre-Gethsemane funeral plans.
The Brixton Witch by Kel & msk
She paused for a moment, one hand on the car door and waited for the lightheadedness to fade. Her hesitation wasn't lost on Mulder, who shot a concerned glance in her direction....
It wasn't as if she could order her body to hustle that cellular repair because she was tired of feeling cold all the time. If it wasn't for her silk-blend long underwear, she'd be shivering in the late October breeze.
She firmly shut the car door, and strode toward the shop. Mulder overtook her, reaching around to push the door open.
Post Redux II Scully and Mulder investigate a haunted bakery.
And So It Goes
I sat up, heart pounding, gasping for breath as Mulder stumbled into the room. His hair was sticking up in the back like a rooster's comb, and if I wasn't having a breakdown, I would have laughed. "A bad one?" he asked.
"I give it a nine." I ran a shaky hand through my hair as Mulder brought me a glass of water from the bathroom.
"Yeah, but I bet you can't dance to it," he quipped as he handed me the glass and sat next to me on the bed. I took a long drink and wondered why people bring you water when you're upset. He rubbed my back as I took deep breaths and felt my heart try to escape my chest. "Which one was it? The one on the examining table?"
I bitterly regretted telling him about that particular horror show.
Post One Son Scully and Mulder investigate another abductee case.
Jabberwocky by bcfan & MaybeAmanda & Amy & Tesla & msk & Marchmont, Lucy & Kmom
Mulder's eyes moved from Sybil to Scully. "Fro--Melvin said you had information. What's up?" he asked, the lack of expression in his voice expressing the utmost suspicion.
Sybil leaned forward, and the lazy drawl was nearly gone from her voice. "I think the company I work for is running insurance scams with the undead."
Post Bad Blood Scully and Mulder find themselves-- courtesy of the Lone Gunmen-- investigating another suspicious Texan town.
Mezzo Luna
"I think Carmela's emotions were carried through the food she cooked to the people who ate it. She was angry when she made the ravioli, and the people who ate it became enraged." He sat back and folded his arms, as if daring her to take her best shot.
Scully took a sip of her club soda and fought a smile.
Mulder and Scully investigate a town embroiled with heightened emotions (and confront a few of their own.)
"The Freedom Squad Birthday by Kel & msk
"He wants a Freedom Squad Battle Fortress."
"I'm sure he'll like that mitt just fine."
Mulder was grinding the ball into the glove, forming the pocket. Which really wasn't necessary, but still, that's what a guy does with a new glove.
"I went to World O' Toys and Big Box Toys in Alexandria. I called a couple of stores in Arlington. I didn't get very far."
"He didn't give you much notice," Doggett said. As in, maybe if you talked to him more than once a month, you would have known earlier.
AU-- Post Existence Mulder is unstable, flaky, and constantly in and out of Scully and William's life.
mimic117's
Supermarket Sweep
Why don't they include this in the training? Especially for guys. It's gonna come up at some point. It's inevitable. You get comfortable with each other. You trust each other. You'd even die for each other. So why shouldn't you do this one little thing, too? Easy, right?
Wrong.
There's too many choices.
S1 Mulder is sent on a period shopping expedition.
One Another's Best
"I miss her, Mulder."
He places his hand on her sleeve.
"I know."
Post Paper Clip Mulder understands why Scully is snappy at work.
War Stories
How do you burn a ring inside a shirt cuff? He just smirked when I asked about that one.
He does that a lot. Never really explains anything, just shrugs or smirks.
Post Bad Blood Mulder's dry cleaner is used to regular damage.
Imperfect Penance
It's a dangerous assignment, I won't kid you about that. I knew what I was getting into from the start, although I wasn't happy about going in without backup. Still, Skinner was right. I couldn't risk the operation just because I feel naked without her next to me. But she found out anyway. Wish I could have seen her worming the details out of Skinner.
Pine Bluff Variant Mulder is glad to have Scully on the "in."
Getting By
It took a moment to achieve upright and stable, but once she did, Scully found she could shuffle with the best of the octogenarians. She'd made it around the bed, on a steady course to reach the door in under twenty minutes, when she remembered two things. One, there was someone in her apartment. Chances were really good that it was just her mother, who'd called the previous night and used her maternal radar to deduce her child's state of health. But two, she couldn't be sure of that and her gun was safely locked away in her end table. She turned and looked. Way back there. On the other side of the bed.
She swiveled slowly toward the door again and caught sight of the baseball bat standing in the corner.
S6 (or S7) Scully is very sick... and very loopy.
Jersey-deviled
"So *anyway*.... I'd just gotten close to the door when it opened again. The woman standing there yelled, 'Hey! Come on in!' and hauled me into the room."
"Did you get her description?"
"I already told you I didn't. It happened too fast, and once I was inside the room, I was mobbed."
"Right. I forgot."
Mulder and Scully, on the road with concussion stories.
Jaded
"Well, you're not upsetting me, Miss, uh..."
Ms. Cool Cucumber doesn't like it when Hotshot has to remind her of my *real* last name. Wish I could see the look she gave him. She's the one in control here and she seems to think I'm hiding something.
First Person Shooter's Jade Afterglow has thoughts after Scully and Mulder's interrogation.
Coming up Roses
"Look on the bright side, Mulder."
"Is there a bright side?"
"Of course there is. This time you weren't hurt enough to need drugs, so I won't have to listen to your snoring at night."
"Sez you. And I do not snore."
"Yes you do."
"No I don't."
Mulder is scratched up by rose bushes.
Chip Off the Old Block, Chip Off The Old Block 02 - Serendipity, Chip Off The Old Block 03 - Veracity, and Chip Off The Old Block 04 - Duplicity
Trading glances with Mulder, Charlie took on the task of deflecting his sister's annoyance. "We were almost mugged coming out of the gym, Sis. No big deal. We just didn't want to worry you."
"Yeah." Mulder dove through the loophole he'd been handed. "It was just some hop-head trying to score a little cash. We got the bad guy, the cops took him away, and we're both fine. End of story."
Glaring from one man to the other, Scully crossed her arms and lowered her brows. "Why do I get the feeling there's something else you're not telling me?"
AU-- Post Existence Mulder, Scully, and William are awash in Charlie Scully misadventures. (Turns out, William's little powers are genetic.)
Emily Sim's
Aeviternal
He closed the door and scooped up his jacket and a sweater he'd left on the couch. They joined other discarded parts of his wardrobe on his bed. Good to know the bed was good for something.
Post Fire Mulder ruminates on the word 'love'.
Softly
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. It thrums through his body with every beat of his heart, with every step that he takes towards her hospital room. How many times over the years has he done this? He’s only been gone a few minutes to grab some food for himself, but he can’t shake eight years’ worth of hospital visit paranoia from his shoulders.
Existence Mulder keeps watch over Scully and their son in the hospital.
Satchie's
Dancing with Mephistopheles
"You've sustained an injury to your left anterior cerebral artery, which has caused some hemorrhaging into your brain. That's why you're having speech difficulties and the weakness on your right side. We're going to repair the damaged artery and evacuate the clot."
Brain surgery? You've really outdone yourself this time, Mulder.
Post Demons Mulder realizes that it was Scully's blood, not her tears, on his shirt.
Renaissance de Mal
Scully glanced back at the abandoned vehicle. "Don't move. I'll bring the car over here and get you situated. Then we'll go to the emergency room."
Mulder gingerly flexed his limb. "Nah. I think it's okay. I just need to work out the kinks. Probably twisted it funny or something."
"Uh huh. It's the 'or something' that worries me.
S5 Mulder adds another injury to his list while chasing after a demon dog.
Claimed
Scully frequently volunteered to handle this unpleasant task, but his misplaced guilt prevented him from accepting her gracious offer this time. For crying out loud, he nearly died simply because he went to an out-of-town basketball game. It was so senseless and humiliating. No, he would fight this battle alone.
Mulder's insurance company has no mercy.
In Extremis
The worst part of my decline is having to face my trials alone. So many times I've debated whether or not to tell Scully about my illness, but I can't seem to arrive at a decision. For crying out loud, she's a doctor. Sooner or later she's bound to notice the subtle clues of my deterioration. Do I honestly believe I can keep this from her until the bitter end? No matter how I check out, she's going to be heartbroken.
AU-- Pre-Requiem Mulder is too afraid to tell Scully about his brain disease.
Jenna's
IOU
We spend the next few hours reliving the past 22 years through my eyes. I tell her everything, but mostly about my time spent with Scully and all that has happened to us over the last two years. She finally has gained the nerve to ask "the" question.
"This Scully, is she is a "partner?" Or is she is a "partner, partner?"
AU-- Mulder and Samantha root around in their parent's attic.
Amy's
Where are You, China Blue?
"Listen to me."
He looked off, annoyed.
"You're not listening."
"Yes, I am."
"Then stop it, Daddy. Just hear me out. I don't care anymore. I don't care. It used to be fun. It used to be this great game. 'Don't get caught, Sammy', you'd say. It was great. My whole life was great. Until last week, I thought it was going to be that way forever."
AU-- Post Redux II Samantha is sick and tired of the games.
Through the Mist
You approach my body. I expect to find shock, horror and sadness etched within every line of the face I know better than my own. Instead you are smiling, you approach me as you have every other day of our friendship, your eyes take in my body with reverence, a small smile is dancing on your lips. Your arms are held behind your back and as you approach the bed I can see the little game you have intended to play. A date. The remembrance of the word is almost unbearable. Your smile grows as you present my corporeal self with the bouquet from behind your back. I can hear you lightly mocking me, laughing at the fact that I had said that fortunes would come between us and normality. You are out to prove me wrong, not out of vengeance or spite, but because that is how you and I grow and move forward.
AU-- Scully's spirit watches a broken Mulder take her body home.
Tesla's (Site)
Get Up, Mulder
He rolled onto his side. He still had his gun. What was the problem? He felt blood trickling from his scalp. Someone must have sapped him. He was such an idiot. He wiggled his fingers, tried to send a message to his feet. They moved. Good. Houston, we have movement.
"Scully?" he said, tentatively. He was in a parking deck. Something about a suspicious sale of fertilizer. Great. Wonderful. He knew Kersh wanted to kill him, but he had thought it would be death by boredom.
FTF and S6 Mulder's many "passing out" adventures.
After the Ship
"When a man has to start all over again----when a profiler, who sees evil everywhere, has to start over again- ---how do you rejoin the world?"
Black's eyebrows twitched once. "Ah," he said. "But I have a connection to the world. I have my daughter."
Mulder grimaced.
Black reached in his pocket for a couple of dollars. "Yes, Agent Mulder, I'm luckier than you. You have to find your way back without a lifeline."
Post Three Words Mulder remains disconnected, dully wondering if he's a clone.
Kel's No Longer at Ease Here
He looked over at me, nodded, and turned back to look out the window.
"If that's true, you have my deepest sympathy," he said.
If that's true. Like I'm a liar.
"Squamash, Pennsylvania. Sound familiar?" I asked him.
That got his attention.
Vienen Doggett tells Mulder about his own experience with death.
Kmom's How I Want The X-Files To End
"Scully? You awake?"
"Sure, Mulder, I'm awake." The voice is deadpan. "I'm always awake at... uh... 3:35 am."
"Well, I was wondering... "
"What else is new? Make it quick."
"Do you think it's possible for dinosaurs to still be walking the earth somewhere?"
Post Existence Mulder and Scully have an early morning conversation about reinstatement.
bcfan's
Party Line
At Mulder's hurt look, Scully swallowed and closed her eyes. Get a grip, she scolded herself. You usually love his brilliance and energy. Thinking back to yesterday's discussion - childhood report card comments - Scully remembered she'd shared "plays well with others." Mulder had countered with "has a low tolerance for repetition."
That's the key, Scully decided. I have to find a way to pull us both out of this miasma of snarkiness. I have to give Mulder something new and different to think about.
Post Firewalker quarantine slumber party.
Wired
"I'm enlisting your help on a field assignment, but it's going to be undercover. Can you get away unofficially for a few days?"
"Well, I have some back vacation time coming. Agent Scully, might I ask-"
"No. I'm on an unsecured line. Drop off whatever paperwork you need to fill out and meet me in your own car - not a Bureau car, Agent Pendrell - at the food court of the Key Mall in Frederick. It's about 40 miles from D.C. Do you know where it is?"
"I'm sure I can find it. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Scully nodded. She still had one friend in the FBI.
Wetwired Scully is on the run, calling up Pendrell for help and fleeing to her mother's.
Bon Voyage with an Open Book
"No, I'm thinking about early humans. It must have been confusing for the first people to dream - to go somewhere without going."
"I never thought of that before."
Mulder throws his arm over his eyes and murmurs. "I don't want to go somewhere anymore, Scully. It's too hard."
"Mulder, I'm coming over."
Post Paper Hearts Scully drops by with a present.
Hanukkah
Scully spotted it on a dusty shelf at a gas station QuikiMart, propped next to boxes of tinsel and faded red and green ornaments. A quick decision later, the miniature menorah was tucked into her plastic bag with sunflower seeds and a lottery ticket promising 38 million dollars.
Mulder looked surprised as he examined her offering.
"For good luck," she murmured.
Post Kaddish Scully buys Mulder a menorah.
Twin Paradox, A New Interpretation
"Perfect timing, Mulder. No haircut, but I just got rid of three days worth of beard. How are you feeling?" Scully again held the water to Mulder's lips as she spoke.
"Better," he quietly replied, then gestured weakly with his hand. "Roses?"
"From my mother. Don't worry, she signed my middle name on the card. I knew they were for you, though."
Mulder smiled, and Scully's heart turned over.
"I've been dreaming. Good dreams. You're in them, Scully."
Amor Fati Mulder recovers in an old folks' home.
The Breakfast Club
"I'm cooking this morning, Mulder. Do you have a toaster?"
"Of course. This place has all the accoutrements of civilized dining."
Scully stepped into the kitchen. "Where is it?"
Mulder squeezed around her and crouched low, fishing with long arms in the back of a bottom cabinet. "Ta da." He held up an avocado clunker from the 1970s, covered in grime.
Post Amor Fati Scully keeps Mulder well-fed during his recovery; and he begins to return the favor.
Pine-scented
The funny little Charlie Brown Christmas tree looked almost lovely if he squinted and turned his head sideways. Lights sparkled in the windows and soft music caressed the room. It was beginning to look a lot like happiness realized.
Will climbed on Mulder's lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor, taping wires to the branches so the baby couldn't pull on them. Will drooled on his shirt and grabbed his nose. "Gah."
Post Existence Christmas, with poop and romance.
Obfusc8er's
Mandates from Heaven by Obfusc8er & Xtreme Unction
Mulder leaned against one of the columns, casually crossing one ankle over the other, and squinted. He was trying to make out the textual message in the shimmering, as he is wont to do every time he visits the Lincoln Memorial. As usual, the epistle hidden in the water eluded him. He and Samantha used to play this game as children, making up imaginary Pentateuchal directives during every visit to the national mall. He smiled at the memory of some of the more ridiculous mandates from heaven they pretended to see.
AU-- Pre-S1 Mulder sees a "happily ever after" doppelganger.
Spending Time
I close my eyes briefly, trying to blink away the encroaching fog. I bite my lip until it bleeds. Even as I fade, I want her badly. She winds her hands together and shoves rhymically on my chest in a futile attempt at resuscitation. How lucky I am that my doctor is the pathologist who never says die.
Post Dod Kalm Mulder and Scully swap music requests after a night of nightmares.
True Reflections
Over here! Don't forget me! Mulder shouts silently.
"Okay. If I'm leaving anything behind, I'll just come by tomorrow to pick it up. I'll leave you alone now." She turns to leave.
He cannot take seeing her walk away right now, and he swallows hard.
"I don't want to be alone."
Post Grotesque Scully stands by her shaken partner.
Russian Roulette by Obfusc8er & bcfan
The next time he awakens, Mulder bites his lip hard to keep silent, but he can't prevent the shakes.
Terma Mulder's stint in the Russian gulog.
Kiss and Makeup
"I got here as soon as I could. You sounded...lonely."
He lowered his eyes before saying the last word, unable to meet her gaze. She nodded at him, noting that he was no longer making an effort to pretend that his visit was anything but personal. She backed away a couple of steps, leaving the door wide open. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He stood fidgeting with the cuff of his trench coat, waiting for a cue, for a hint of what she needed from him. He was willing to do anything for her.
She wanted to let him hold her, but a lump was growing in her throat. She was busy trying desperately not to cry in front of him.
Pre-Gethsemane Scully and Mulder have a frank conversation about her health.
Reverto Ad Noctum
I can smell your fear.
Detour-- the Mothman's perspectives.
Convergence
Everything is running smoothly, and it all results in a living being, itself interacting with other beings in much the same way the wandering atoms within it do. The organism moves, communicates with, and manipulates members of its own and other kinds to become a part of an always-jostling, writhing whole conglomeration clinging precariously to a tilted, rolling rock. The system is humming along nicely, taking care of itself quite well.
And then something goes terribly wrong. The steady fluid pressure inside the organism's network of blood vessels rises slightly, the heart pumping frantically. The adrenal glands release endocrine and adrenaline into the bloodstream, causing the blood to become a much more efficient oxygen carrier. The protein hasn't made it back to the lungs yet. The combination of speeding heartbeat and frantically pumping lungs makes the entire system shake and vibrate with anticipation.
Monday, and one of the many days Scully lived through.
Deus ex Machina
Her partner was staring at the low tree stump upon which Legere had been splitting wood. She walked toward him, stopping when she saw the subject of his inspection. The face of the stump was sawed off with a smooth surface. The gray weathered grains were stained black and brown in a starburst pattern. Scully leaned closer and squinted. The stain was more recent and thinned around the edges, revealing its true pigment. It was red.
"It's blood," she stated, mostly to herself.
S6 Scully (and Mulder) come face-to-face with a demon on one of Kersh's patrols.
Papercut
"Don't move, Mulder. I'm not yelling. You have a concussion...among other things."
He winced as he felt fat raindrops falling on him with stinging force. Everything before him was a blur. He waited, and Scully's form slowly took shape.
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
He looked at her, but his thoughts were clouded by pain in his head.
"Yeah. Fingers."
Scully finds her partner after he narrowly escapes a tornado.
One Man's Journey
I sense a wave of trembling pass through her frame as I marvel at the implausibility of our circumstances. Her head rests against my chest, against the very place where someone, or something, split me open and tried to remove my faith in her. When they realized they could not have that, they took everything else?
Post Three Words Mulder is desperate to keep Scully around while (temporarily) helpless to re-situate back to "normal."
Waddles52 and Little Bullit 89's Spectacular Lights and Chili Nights
"The injection should make you sleepy. I'm going to talk to the manager and find out where the closest medical facilities are. You need to be seen by a doctor."
"You're a doctor," he said sleepily. The phenergan was beginning to take effect.
"That's true, but in case you haven't noticed, the vast majority of my patients are dead.
AU-- Mulder and Scully, emergency appendicitis, and an important "I need you."
bellefleur's
Kiss of an Angel's Wings
Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her face. It's been like this for months now, maybe years, but never like tonight. Never like this. The memory of those baby blues riveted to him is seared into his soul.
Post Tempus Fugit Pendrell's last, besotted thoughts.
Iced
After the fact, it was hard for Scully to describe just what had occurred since it all happened so quickly. Ernie had just finished a rousing rendition of "Rubber Ducky," and as the music changed, the other characters emerged from the curtain, one by one, for the final number. Her focus, of course, had been on Big Bird, hoping for his sake that the show could end without incident. But as she watched him glide gracefully along behind Elmo in the long line of figures circling the ice, suddenly he broke formation and made a beeline for Oscar. With a dive at the garbage can, he and the Grouch slid toward the center of the rink, in a mangled pile of feathers and fur.
Post Detour Mulder and Scully are sent on an FBI undercover mission... as Sesame Street characters on ice.
When Cows Fly
Scully froze. She stopped breathing altogether, hoping that complete lack of motion would prevent him from waking further so that she could surreptitiously pull herself away. Slowly resuming her breathing, she began to plot another run at the alarm clock when a nearby rumbling startled her.
"If you wanted to cuddle you could've just asked."
Rain King Scully is flustered by Mulder's oblivious consumption of her space.
42 Flavors
Scully turned at Mulder's voice to see him pull up alongside her, and then she followed him out the door. One of the tables they had passed on the way in was now vacant, so they took their places in the wrought iron chairs flanking the matching round table.
"So, was it a good birthday, Scully?"
"Best one I've had in six months."
Post The Unnatural Mulder whisks Scully away to get gelato.
Combustion
She and her partner had faced this situation too many times, with one possibly losing the other permanently. Had this become almost mundane for them? To someone who had never faced this trauma before, the occasion magnified lost moments and things left unsaid. But for Scully, such thoughts had not even occurred to her, until now. Was it possible that she may never see Mulder again and never have the chance to express how she truly felt about him?
Mulder survives a bomb blast cave-in; and reunites with a relieved Scully, ready to take the next step.
In Heels
You'd think by now I'd be used to getting ditched, but with Mulder, it was never about gender. Sure, he was trying to protect me from taking the same stupid risks he was, but not because he thought I was a liability. That doesn't mean it didn't piss me off, but this--this one was a personal insult. And I don't like being insulted.
Mulder's swollen ankle prevents him from joining Scully and a misogynistic detective on the field.
Mother Love
Scully had invited him to join her and her mom for brunch that Sunday, but he politely declined and explained simply, "There's something I have to do." She accepted his excuse without question, perhaps understanding, or simply respecting his need to open up to her in his own time.
Post Sein und Zeit Mulder visits Tena Mulder's grave for Valentine's Day.
Triple Returns
"The Son."
Scully and Hughes both turned to look at Mulder who had now moved into the living room and was standing over the tape outlining where the body had fallen.
"Pardon me?" Hughes inquired.
"The Son. Daniels was the only son in his family, just like the second victim of each trio before. The original killers saw themselves as an unholy trinity, and they killed along the same pattern."
AU-- S7 Mulder and Kristen Kilar meet again.
Visceral
Your focus turns back to the steel pan containing the most poetic of my earthly remains. You place it inside the frame of the scale then write down the weight. You set my heart on the cutting board and pick up a long knife, your actions practiced and controlled, almost mechanical. The blade presses against the mottled epicardium, expressing thick, clotted blood from the vessels. But you pause, held back by something invisible and unspoken, your masterful hands trembling. Turning, you look at my opened body, my innermost self exposed. A few clear drops run from beneath your mask, dripping onto the front of your gown, mingling there with a smear of red.
Post All Things Daniel Waterston selfishly watches Scully autopsy his dead body.
Then Comes Marriage
"C'mon, Scully, it'll be fun. The lights, the magic. There's no other place like it on earth."
AU-- Mulder and Scully accidentally get married in Vegas.
Arms Wide Open
It hits me again: We did it. We made a life. I can't believe it.
And once more I laugh to myself in disbelief and start crying. This seems to be an automatic response for me.
AU-- Requiem Mulder wasn't abducted; and bolts from room after being told the surprise news.
Easter Vigil
All she knows for sure is that he was dead. She held his lifeless body. She touched his decaying flesh. She stood watch as they sealed him in the casket and then lowered him into the ground.
He was dead. And then he wasn't.
He is risen.
Deadalive Scully thinks of her waxing and waning faith in miracles.
Simple Man
The moment was interrupted as Will emerged from his room and rejoined them. It was Mulder who first noticed him, and Scully followed his gaze. Their son was now wearing jeans, a Yankees shirt, a ballcap, and his baseball mitt--the way he usually dressed when his father took him to the park to play catch.
AU-- Post Existence Mulder and Scully discuss his childhood while William changes his Halloween costume.
Is There a Doctor in the House?
Mulder was standing on his desk, holding something above his head, apparently installing...
"Ceiling tiles? Mulder, what are you doing?"
He almost fell off the desk, startled by her presence, but she quickly reached out to steady him. He smiled sheepishly and climbed off the desk.
AU-- IWTB Mulder keeps putting off his doctorate.
truthwebothknow1's
Natiruvaaq
He tried to cut through the fog that left his mind in a painful vice.
Mulder, caught in the fog.
Echoes
Her aunt had been bugging her for months about coming over to spend a few days and finally meet her.
S6 (or S7) Scully vacations in Ireland, where she not only finds her own X-File but runs into her partner.
Enchanted Shores
The soft crunch of feet through wet sand broke her out of her reverie as her partner approached her, grinning like a little boy bringing her a natural sea treasure.
The man with the child in his eyes.
S6 (or S7) Mulder and Scully take a lovely dovey trip to Maine.
Home Alone
He stood at the lip of the stairs swaying and was feeling quite disorientated when the downstairs phone ringing tore a path through the cotton in his head. His good foot shifted inadvertently onto the first step but his toes could not dig into the carpet enough to stop his forward momentum. A final sway and his crutches slipped from his grasp with a clatter and he pitched forward, too shocked and slacked jawed to cry out. The hall flooring came up to collide with his nose at an alarming speed just as the answering machine kicked in.
Mulder gets into progressively worse scrapes on Valentine's Day, resulting in Maggie's arrival, Scully and Skinner's panic, and a reporter's opportunistic attempt to snap a photo.
My December
And then they found him.
Mainly because the puddle of red stood out in stark contrast to the endless white. Fortunately, they'd spotted his limp body wedged upside-down against a snow-covered rock before the last gimlet slither of light vanished over the next mountain. Only Mulder could render himself trussed up like some macabre raspberry ripple snowball....
AU-- S7 Mulder is wrapped up in barbed wire after a disastrous car accident. With no other recourse, Skinner and Scully prepare to pull it out themselves.
If I Close My Eyes Forever and Vortex
He was so excited at the thought of revisiting his old haunts and he hadn't really come down since. He called it his Oxford beat. Scully had nearly fallen out of the boat, laughing as he said it. They nearly both ended up in the river. Good memories, he was going to need them, they both were.
A sudden slither of melancholy caught her in the ribs. His hand tugging gently at hers brought her out of her reverie.
AU-- Mulder wakes from a dreamworld, nearly debilitated with serious injuries. Scully takes him to England to help him move on from the FBI; and the two-- of course-- stumble across an x-file.
Si la vie est un cadeau
I'm not the Close Encounter hero, but I'm close to something...terrible. I'm Fox William Mulder... the most colossal looser of all time. I am both found and at the same time irrevocably lost to you...to this. And I want...no need to think that I didn't have a choice, ...like Sam, that all this was inevitable for some universal goodness concept, which somehow got lost or derailed along the way. I made the choice Scully, but was it mine to begin with? Was this not ordained long ago by happenstance of my birthright? When I think of what I've cost you...
Maybe I deserve all this; perhaps everything was leading to this, in some divine plan that was kept secret from us. Though I'm sure you would be the first to tell me that, God doesn't use power tools against helpless living flesh.
S8 Mulder recounts the temporary bouts of reprieve he'd feel amidst the trauma of his torture.
BONUS
I can't bounce from this list in good conscience without mentioning Vickie Moseley and Donna and Sheryl Martin and RocketMan and Cecily Sasserbaum and prufrock's love, authors I've put a lot of hours into. However, since Tumblr has limits on links per post, I'll merely suggest you search their names (e.g. #Vickie Moseley) on this blog; and limit this rec to a fic I became reacquainted with today.
prufrock’s love/plenilune’s (Ao3, Gossamer, WBM, colonizationhq)
Malebolge
"I'm not eating a bat, Mulder. We don't have any food, no drinkable water, and you've got to be freezing. Better start climbing, partner."
"I wanted to wait until you were awake - to make sure you were okay before I left you." He's on his knees, facing me, very close. I can feel the heat radiating off him in the darkness like an aura and a warm hand touches my good shoulder. "You know I care about you, don't you, Scully?"
Something was very wrong if Mulder was saying this while kneeling on my wet trench coat, half-dressed, in a cave. Maybe he hit his head - that usually precedes declarations of his love.
"I know you do, Mulder. Just go."
"Do you love me?" He'd found my hand, holding it tightly in his.
Bad wrong.
"You know I do. What's wrong, Mulder?"
AU-- Mulder and Scully (and a tour guide) become trapped in an underground cave-in, and slowly realize they're not getting out.
Thanks for reading~
Enjoy!
As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…
Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???
(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)
Tolerate it.
Summary: She is fed up.
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy
Enjoy!
•○🌑○•
Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.
Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.
It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.
Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.
It made Y/n smile.
Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.
Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.
Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.
So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.
Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.
He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.
Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.
Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.
It definitely was not her, that was for sure.
Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.
Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.
She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.
It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.
With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.
Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.
But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.
Y/n blinked.
Or... could she?
Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.
Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.
Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.
Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.
Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.
Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.
Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.
When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.
Those days were far gone now.
•○🌑○•
Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.
And that was downplaying what she felt.
The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.
So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.
She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.
She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.
The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.
It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.
The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.
He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.
He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.
He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.
Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.
"Good morning love. Look-"
"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.
"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."
Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"
Azriel froze. "What?"
Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."
Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."
Doubtful.
Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.
He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.
She did not miss how he recoiled.
Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.
Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.
She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.
She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.
Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.
And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.
She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.
She deserved to be cherished.
•○🌑○•
Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175
Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend
“Sorry I just lost a- sorry. Yeah, yeah…uh- hang on my mic just fell.”
i kinda want to watch the drama just because of the outfits jshsksks the stylist deserves a raise
mafia!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot
Summary: With Bucky Barnes, the mafia lord of New York, as your boyfriend, you're usually safe from any and all harm. With a date night gone wrong and your boyfriend distracted, though, anything can happen in the blink of an eye.
A/N: Another one of my favorites because come on, who doesn't love mob Bucky? If you couldn't tell by now, angst is my thing lol, but I'm working on some fluffier oneshots! True to my word, this one's a reader insert for all you lovelies, enjoy and as always keep dreaming 🤍
Warnings: mafia!Bucky, violence, angst, kidnapping, drugging, language, mentions of torture, fluffy ending because I just can't help myself.
Word Count: 5,896
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I knew the dangers when I started. I knew the risks. I welcomed them, I embraced them. They did not scare me and they haven't even now, so many months later.
We always seem to think we know ourselves so well, that we know what we'd do in every situation. I thought I knew.
Then I fell in love.
When you're in love, well, everything changes. For the first time, there's another person that you cannot live without. For the first time, you begin to realize just how far you'd go to keep that love, to strengthen it. I used to avoid love, used to think it was worthless.
Then I met Bucky Barnes, Wolf of the North and mafia lord of New York, and I fell harder than I ever have before.
I love him more than anything else in my life, and so I took on the risks willingly. When you love someone that deeply, that ardently, nothing is a risk. Besides, I knew that he would do everything in his power to protect me. Bucky would never let anything bad happen to me.
That's where I went wrong. Not in overestimating him, but underrating what can happen in the blink of an eye.
"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"
He acts as though he's heard me, but his eyes are glued to the phone in his hand as we weave through the crowds in the New York night. He never usually ignores me like this, and even though I'm growing annoyed, I'm hurt by his lack of attention too.
"We'll be fine, even if he is he wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything" Bucky brushes off, not even looking up from his phone. I let out a small huff as we approach the front of the bar and nightclub he owns.
Before we make it to the doors, I grab his well-muscled arm and gently tug him to face me. He looks up now, his usually softened ice blue eyes plagued with business and stress.
"I thought tonight was just for us, my love" I remind. Something softens in his gaze but he ices it down and doesn't as much as touch me.
"It is, but I have some business to attend to first" his gravelly voice replies.
"Business?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly at him, "You can get business any night, but I-"
"Just give me ten minutes, Y/N." my boyfriend interrupts, and if it were any other day I'd say something back. Too exhausted from work to want an argument, though, I simply sigh and decide to show him patience.
"Alright, you have 10 minutes."
We walk inside, but before we do I cast one more glance back towards the man who I saw following us. My heart hits the floor when my eyes connect directly with his across the street. His mousy brown hair and disheveled brown leather jacket and white shirt set me on edge, so I quickly turn around and follow Bucky into his club.
As soon as I'm back by his side, he presses a gentle but burning hand to my back, his touch, however small, still intoxicating me after all this time. Normally, he'd lean over and whisper sweet nothings or promises of love in my ear and I'd shiver at the whisper of his voice so near, but now he barely even touches me. His mind is so preoccupied with work, I know that, but it has been all week since this weekend is his rival's gala.
But I feel ignored and unappreciated and it's killing me.
The pounding music of the club wraps around me, making it harder to keep my thoughts straight. Bucky and I walk straight to the back of the club, where his business no doubt waits. He pulls away from me without so much as a goodbye, and my heart tugs. Quickly I grab his hand, making him glance at me.
"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out," I repeat, and I know he said I'll be fine but I need him to be here with me, "Please, stay with me."
"Doll, you're gonna be fine. Now-"
I cut him off, getting frustrated.
"No Bucky! I can fight, sure, but if he-" I interrupt, only for him to cut me right back off.
"Drop it, Y/N. Just go to the bar or something" Bucky growls, pulling out of my grip and walking into the office without a single glance back at me.
My heart cracks.
He's never like this, ever. He's usually so protective it's overbearing, and yet the one time I need that to feel secure, he refuses. I can take care of myself, but I'm not stupid. And no matter how capable and independent I may be, Bucky brings a level of safety to me that I can't describe.
And yet here he is, leaving me alone in his bar with someone following us.
I huff out a sigh and try not to look too forlorn as I traipse over to the bar. Almost as soon as I've arrived and sat at an open bar stool, the bartender who has become somewhat of a friend over the last few months approaches me.
"And how is my favorite customer?" He asks, his hands busy preparing a drink. I shrug, offering him a soft smile.
"I'm alright, Lee," I respond, playing with the edge of my sleeve, "Just a whiskey please."
"Sure thing, Y/N," Lee says, his brows furrowed as he steps away to make my drink. When the glass slides in front of me, I grab onto it with tired fingers.
"So, do you want me to ask what's really going on or do you want me to believe the lie?" The bartender asks, making me raise my gaze from the amber liquid and to my friend's face. He must see the tears gathering in my eyes because a hint of concern grows. I never break like this.
"Believe the lie, please" I nearly whisper, desperate to not have this conversation right now. Lee stares at me for a second longer before nodding.
"Let me know if you need anything else."
When he walks away to take care of another customer, I'm left feeling alone and forgotten in my boyfriend's bar. I sip on the alcohol and seconds turn to minutes, and ten minutes soon becomes twenty. I feel patience slipping and am seconds away from barging into that room and giving my boyfriend a piece of my mind when another voice pipes up beside me.
"I thought tonight was date night," The voice says, and I can't put a face to it. When I turn, the haze of alcohol clears instantly and my spine snaps straight. The music dulls into a hum. The lights grow darker. The color leeches from my body. My hand trembles around the almost empty glass.
It's him. He's got the same messy hair, the same brown jacket. The same hungry eyes.
Instantly, I clamp down hard on my rising panic. I refuse to fall into hysterics of any kind right now. This is the safest place for me to be right now, so I should have nothing to worry about. Instead, I simply shake my head and turn forward, downing the last of my second whiskey.
"You're another kind of stupid if you think anything is going to happen to me in here," I inform, my tone even and calm despite the throbbing, tearing panic within me that makes me want to sprint for Bucky.
"Oh sweetheart, I'm not going to do anything," the man responds, his tone just as even as mine.
I furrow my brows at the ease of his response, but all at once it hits me. My head begins to spin and with each second that passes, my mind begins to fog. No. No. No.
He drugged me.
How did he get it into my drink?
How did I not see it? Smell it? Taste it?
I shove out of my chair so fast that the stool screeches against the hard floor. The sound is absorbed into the mass of the club, though, and an arm snakes around my waist.
"No," I manage out, but the connection between my body and brain seems to be almost severed. The words come out sluggish and far away and when I try to pull from the stalker's hold, my body barely moves.
Instead, I'm left stumbling like I'm drunk with this man guiding me towards the exit as if he's helping me to a cab. The bouncers. Ed and Damien, they won't let him take me. They'll stop him, they'll get him away from me.
"Don't make a scene, Y/N. Your boyfriend isn't even out of his office." My kidnapper's voice slithers into my ear, making my stomach church with nausea.
My boyfriend. Bucky. Oh God, where is Bucky? Why can't I seem to remember where Bucky went? Why he's not here? Why I was alone?
"Bucky, Bucky's gonna-" I slur out, sounding absolutely wasted to the unknowing ear.
"I know, Mr. Barnes going to be so glad I got you home safely," he says suddenly, his entire body shifting tone. I furrow my brows and manage to look and see us just passing Ed and Damien at the door. Even though I can really see straight, I see the two bouncers block the exit when they see me.
"Hey man, what's going on?" I hear Ed ask.
"Nothing much to see, Boss just wanted me to take his lady home," the stalker says, his grip on me tighter than it must appear, "She had a little too much to drink."
Too much to drink? Did I? Why can't I remember what's happening? I didn't think I did but...but maybe I did. Who is this man? He said he's taking me home, maybe Bucky had to cancel date night. It was date night, right?
Both Ed and Damien furrow their brows and look to me, immediate concern drawing on their features when they see the state of me. Some lucid part of me screams to alert them of something, anything, but the thought doesn't come to fruition. It dies somewhere along a neuron and leaves me tripping over my own feet and speechless.
"I've never seen you before, man. How do we know that boss told you to take her home?" Damien asks. My escort doesn't miss a step.
"The Wolf is in states nowadays, isn't he boys?" The stalker replies, and that lucid part sparks up again in protest at the familiar words. That's the code phrase to ensure safety in moments like this.
He knows the code phrase.
They're going to let him take me.
I do what I can to struggle as Ed and Damien step aside, but it only comes across as trying to walk on my own, because the bouncers chuckle slightly.
"Relax Y/N, don't overdo it" Ed quips.
"Rest up, miss. I'll let boss know you got home safely." Damien follows up.
And the lucid part of me fades into the drug haze as my kidnapper guides me out of the safest place on earth without so much of a gun fight. The cool night air slaps me in the face and I whisper, trying to struggle again only to forget why I'm struggling in the first place. My body feels like I'm running through neck-high mud, anyways. Any sharp movements I try to make end in my hands barely moving.
"Bucky," I breathe, an urgency in that word. Beyond the haze and the forgetfulness and the confusion, there's a deep and piercing need to scream out that name. I can't figure out why, but I need him. I can't...I need...
My head's spinning, or maybe it's the world. My stomach is twisting and turning and twisting and turning and tw-
"He can't save you now. He didn't even put up a fight to protect you," that ugly, slimy voice says as a car door opens, "What a shame. A treasure like you should be guarded. But I guess finder's keeper's."
Then I'm shoved into a car and everything goes black.
||| James Buchanan Barnes
Y/N's going to actually kill me. As in my liver on a plate kill me.
The meeting that I promised would only be ten minutes has now gone for forty, and by now she's probably restless, hungry, and a little tipsy.
Great, and I pissed her off earlier so tonight is going to be so much fun.
I pull a hand through my dark hair with a slight groan as the man I was doing business with finally leaves my office. I sit for a second in the semi-quiet of my room, the pounding of music and laughter dulled by the walls. I know I shouldn't have gotten short with her earlier, but damn she wouldn't let up on me with the whole "stalker" thing.
My club is the safest place for her. I would never let anything happen to her, so for her to even think that...I sigh again, shoving it from my mind. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is finding my girlfriend and making all of this shit up to her. I rise from my leather chair and walk out of my office, the dulled sounds roaring into full force.
My eyes immediately shoot towards the bar to find my girl only to see an absence of her. With furrowed brows, I sweep my gaze towards the dance floor. Even crowded with people, I don't see her. I roll my eyes instantly, knowing what probably happened. She probably went home, probably's pissed as hell at me. I brush off my suit jacket and walk up to Lee at the bar, immediately garnering his attention. He smiles at me.
"Hey boss, can I get you anything?" He asks.
"No I'm good, thanks Lee," I respond, leaning on the bar with one arm and pinching the bridge of my nose, "Have you seen Y/N? I think I pissed her off."
There's a pause that makes me look over at my bartender. He's looking at me weirdly as he slides a drink to a customer and laughs slightly.
"Real funny, boss," Lee says, cleaning out a few glasses. I straighten up slightly, my brows furrowing deeper and my jaw setting.
"What's so funny, Lee? Have you seen her or not?" I ask, quickly losing my patience. I always thought he had a thing for her, always was too-
"Are you fucking with me right now?" Lee asks genuinely, cutting off my thoughts. When I don't respond, he realizes I'm not joking and his face goes grave, "So you didn't send her home twenty minutes ago?"
The world tilts around me and every ounce of anger, annoyance, and frustration leaves me in an instant. My heart drops like an anchor at sea and I don't dare to believe what Lee's words mean.
"She left twenty minutes ago," I begin slowly, trying desperately to hold myself together and not jump to a conclusion, "With someone who said I sent them to take her home."
Lee's face is slowly falling as he realizes the situation at hand. I feel so sick to my stomach that I can barely stand when Lee gives a faint nod. My world stops and then starts and then stops again.
"I never gave that order." I breathe.
"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"
I brushed her off.
"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out. Please, stay with me."
I ignored her. I snapped at her. I prioritized work over the light of my life. I told her she'd be fine.
I left her.
Lee is saying something to me but I don't hear it as I shove away and storm over to Ed and Damien, my bouncers. My face is a painting of fury and shame and worry and panic and it's a storm that catches Ed and Damien's attention. They stop what they're doing and look to me, their brows furrowing.
"Boss, what's-"
"You let her leave?" I strangle out, my heart slamming in my chest and my fists balled by my sides, "You let a stranger take her away?"
The two share a confused glance before looking back to me.
"A stranger? Boss, the man who took Y/N home knew the code," Ed informs.
"Did you not send him?" Damien suddenly asks, his face tightening in instant panic.
He knew the code. He knew the code and he somehow got my doll, my fighter, out without so much of a warning.
And it's all my fault.
"Shut the club down, get everyone out. Call together all of our forces. Tell them-" My voice breaks, raw emotion clawing up my throat, "Tell them Y/N's been taken."
I don't wait for a response and shove out into the cold night, gasping for air like a fish out of water. I was so obsessed with the gala this week that Hydra, our arch nemesis, was putting on, that I stopped paying attention to the only part of my life that matters. I have a lot of things, all of which I could live without, but I cannot live without her.
And I left her.
I left her and now she's gone.
She tried to warn me, she tried to tell me someone was following us. She tried to get me to stay with her, to not leave her. And yet I walked away. I just walked away like she didn't even matter and I left vulnerable and alone the only person in this entire fucking universe I love. It's all my fault, and I'll spend every second of the rest of my life trying to make it up to her.
If I can even find her in time, before she-
No. I will find her and she will live. I will burn down this whole damn world if I have to, and I will not stop. Not until every person who laid a finger on my girl is dead. I will paint the world crimson with their blood until I find her, and once I do I will never, never, ignore or leave her again.
That's not a threat. It's a promise.
||| Your POV
The collar secured to my throat is too tight, the metal no doubt leaving red grooves in my skin.
It hurts worse when Alexander Pierce, the mafia lord of Hydra, tugs the matching chain leash attached to it, pulling me closer to him and almost making me stumble mid-step.
The gala is glamorous, and my gown is nothing short of it as well. Pierce even went through the trouble of having someone do my hair. What he didn't do was my makeup.
That way anyone could see the dried blood and bruises littering my skin.
It's a scare tactic, I know that. A way to signal to everyone here that he's in charge and that he can't be defied. But I think he's got a bigger reason in mind for it all, the collar and the hideous marks on my skin.
And that reason is my boyfriend.
I can practically feel people's eyes follow me as I walk as steadily as I can at the end of Pierce's leash. Despite the radiating, excruciating pain that each step incurs, I keep my body steady and my chin high. I let the policemen and officials that are on his payroll and all of the members of his mafia see my bruises and cuts. He's parading me, so I'm going to put on a damn show.
A show to hide how mind-numbingly terrified I am right now.
Behind my set jaw and my cold eyes, I'm fighting back tears. The pain is mixing with the fear of the last few days to make a perfect storm within me. I'm terrified that any moment could be my last, that more pain could await me, that Bucky might never come for me
Or worse. That he doesn't even care.
Regardless of whether or not he cares, I'm still not going to give a single detail out. Even when Pierce himself tortured me until all I knew was blood and pain and fear, I said nothing. He didn't get a single word out of me. I just sat there, strapped to an iron chair, and took it. Every blow, every slice, every shout. At times my mind spared me and allowed me to slip into the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness, but it wouldn't be long after that I awoke to my head shoved into cold water to revive me.
And here I am, now taking a seat at the Dias of his gala room beside the mafia lord of Hydra, my boyfriend's sworn rival, with a collar around my neck tied to his wrist.
The music that wafts from the live orchestra is disturbingly jovial and light, filling the air with a sense of peace that provides such a stark juxtaposition to my insides that I almost puke. I sit ever so stiffly in my chair beside Pierce, my back burning with each movement because of the new stripes across its tender flesh.
As I feel warm liquid slide down my skin, I suddenly understand why Pierce insisted my dress be a dark maroon. I thought it was as at first just a beacon to everyone to show who I was with because it was his signature color, but I know better now. It's to hide the blood that seeps from my still-healing and probably infected wounds.
"Exquisite, isn't it?" Pierce asks, and I don't even have to turn towards him to know he wears a devilish smirk. A cruel man's trademark of victory.
I stay silent.
I hear him click his tongue as he sits back in his ornate chair, "All this quality time together and all I've heard from your voice has been your screams. No matter how pretty they are, doesn't seem polite to me."
This time, I can't hold myself back.
"Neither is kidnapping another human being and treating them like a prisoner of war," I announce, my voice raw and hoarse from the screaming and shouting of the past few days, "So pardon me if I'm not feeling too polite."
It's a bold move, but I make it anyways, gambling that he wouldn't lash out in the midst of his party. A little breath of relief escapes me when he chuckles.
"And here I was under the impression you were a sweet, soft-spoken sort of woman. My sources misjudged you." Pierce responds.
Of course he's been watching me. A scheme like this doesn't happen overnight. He's been planning this for a while, now. Pierce knew exactly when Bucky would be most vulnerable, when the defenses would be the loosest. It makes me want to scream.
"You're going to die for this," I whisper, quietly but not softly. There's his laugh again.
"Oh honey," Pierce starts, his voice condescending as if I were a toddler, "Careful with blind faith. What makes you so sure Barnes will make it out of this alive?"
His words unsettle something so deep within me that if I spend more than a few seconds touching on it, I'll shatter. Instead, I turn to look at Alexander Pierce for the first time since we've sat down. My eyes are cold and harsh upon him and the shining metal of the collar that tethers us.
"What makes you so sure it will be Bucky who kills you?"
He has the good sense to look the slightest bit unnerved, and I give him a smirk of my own, "Like you said before, your men sorely misjudged me."
Before he can respond, one of the guards that stands behind us steps forward and whispers something in the mafia lord's ear. Whatever he says makes Pierce grin fiercely as he looks back to me and gives the collar a tug.
"Your White Wolf is here."
My heart jumps so hard that I forget how to function. For a moment, everything else fades and dims away, even the biting pain wrapping me like a blanket of thorns. I snap my head back forward and when I see him I swear I almost break right then and there.
Because his eyes are already on me, and they're coated with fury.
It takes every ounce of strength I have to not dissolve into tears, to not let my fear show.
He's here.
He's here.
Bucky found me.
When our eyes meet, something so primal and raw ignites in his features. He looks seconds away from shattering as his chest heaves, his eyes scouring every inch of me. I feel undone before him, as if the dress doesn't hide a single thing that Pierce and his men have done to me.
"James Barnes," Pierce announces, snapping the connection between us swiftly, "I thought you'd never come. I hope you don't mind, I think I've stolen your date for the evening."
Then he wraps his palm around the chain leash and yanks it so hard that I nearly tumble out of the chair. His hand is there to stop me as it grabs my jaw in a bruising grip. Pierce hums, turning my face side to side before forcing it forward to the crowd that now watches. Bucky is painted with dark rage and looks seconds away from ending Pierce's life.
"She makes quite the pretty pet."
Bucky begins to storm forward only for two of the guests who belong to Pierce's mafia to grip onto his arms and prevent him.
"Take your fucking hand off of her, Pierce, or I swear I'll-" Bucky growls, and hearing his voice is enough to ease some of the knot that's wound in my chest these last few days.
"You'll what?" Alexander asks, releasing my chin but remaining ever so calmly in his seat beside me, "You must not care that much for my pet, after all you were the one to ignore her."
There's a bone-crushing silence and I see that same something shatter in my love's gaze.
"You shoved her off, you left her alone," Alexander cuts out, reaching out and running a hand through my hair, "You so carelessly let her slip through your fingers and here you are pretending to care."
"What I did was unforgivable, I know that," Bucky says suddenly, and I see even from here the silver lining his eyes as he speaks, "But she is a good person. She doesn't deserve this. If you need to punish someone, don't let it be her."
"You don't deserve her," Pierce says, and I want to scream that he's wrong but Bucky cuts me off. His eyes clash with mine and I fall in love all over again.
"I know," he says so softly that I almost miss it. I try to shake my head 'no', but Pierce tightens the collar, making me whimper.
Bucky shoves off the two men holding him, composing himself and standing stiffly a good ways before us.
"Let her go, Pierce," Bucky reiterates, his tone harsh once more and his stare pure murder, "I won't ask again."
Pierce clicks his tongue beside me, letting up on my leash to let me relax slightly.
"Oh Barnes, did you really waltz in here thinking you'd walk back out?"
There's a deadly silence and I swear you can hear my heart smash into the floor even though I expected this. With every second between his last words and his next, I grow more panicked.
"I have you surrounded, Barnes. You're not getting out of this," Pierce announces. Bucky doesn't look the least bit unnerved, though.
Pierce reaches you to an ear piece I didn't know was there and touches it, "Guns at attention."
From my spot next to him, all I hear is static. There's no response coming back, and the confusion becomes evident on Alexander's face at the same moment I realize what's going on. Hope like a new sunrise breaks in me and I look over at Bucky to find him smirking. He winks at me once before furrowing his brows at Pierce.
"What's wrong, can't reach your men?" Bucky taunts.
And then all Hell breaks loose.
Guns are firing and people are screaming and within seconds, Bucky's mafia that's already infiltrated the gala hall appears from the woodwork, their guns raised and keeping the few mafia members left under gun point. Bucky just stands coolly in the midst as another deadly silence blankets the room. I can practically feel the rage draining off of Alexander.
"Get him!" Pierce suddenly shouts, and what few men are left charge at Bucky. Including the personal guards around us. The gunfire begins again, and the classy event is soon painted crimson.
I take the brief moment of chaos to my advantage and shoot up from my seat. As soon as Pierce registers that I'm moving, it's too late. Despite the screaming of my body, I sprint behind Pierce's chair and brace one heeled foot at its back. Then, before he can reach for a gun, I wrap the leash he's collared me with around his neck and pull back, strangling him with the own device he subjected me under.
His hands claw desperately at the chain and I feel my exhausted muscles trembling, but I refuse to let up. I keep holding the chain tighter and snap my gaze up in Bucky's direction just in time to see him shoot a guard between the eyes.
"Bucky!" I shout, gaining his attention instantly.
I know I can't hold Pierce off much longer, so Bucky will need to help me take him down while I've got him strangled to the chair. The metal is cutting deep into his skin when Bucky begins fighting desperately to reach us. Before he can, though, Pierce gets a purchase on the chain and yanks with such force that it sends my body flying over him and the chair. I land flat on my back so hard on the tile that the air rushes out of my lungs and every cut and tear rips open.
"Y/N!" Bucky roars, and it rattles my very bones
I gasp and groan in pain simultaneously, desperately trying to get air into my lungs. The second I can breathe again, Pierce is dragging me backwards by the chain.
"No!" I shout, reaching up and gripping the chain before yanking it.
We tug back and forth as he drags me, but I manage to hook my foot around one of the overturned chairs and use the leverage to yank the chain so hard that I hear a snap followed by a shrill yell.
I just broke his wrist.
When I pull again, the chain comes free and a weight lifts from my shoulders. I scramble to my feet, about to sprint away and towards where I last saw Bucky when Pierce's hands grip my shoulders and rip me back. I don't even have time to scream when my back is slammed into a hard wall and Pierce is before me, a knife in his unmangled hand that's pressed to my cheek.
"You little bitch" he seethes.
My chest is heaving with breath and panic as I read back and spit in his face as hard as I can. He recoils slightly and I relish in it. My happiness only lasts a second, though, because his knife is pressing into my cheek. I try to squirm but his body is pressed firmly to mine and pins me to the wall.
"I so didn't want to end you this quickly," Pierce whispers, his voice slithering against my skin.
I keep trying to be strong, to be so strong, but it's getting harder to keep up. I try to not show my fear, but it's getting harder and harder to hide. I feel myself finally breaking after the hell that these last few days have been and just when I think he's going to end it all, he's gone. In a moment, he's off of me and unconscious on the ground.
And Bucky is standing before me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild.
"Bucky," I breathe, already feeling my strength slip away.
I don't have to be strong anymore.
Bucky drops the gun he just rendered Pierce unconscious with, every inch of his face softening upon my bloody, trembling form. He looks a minute away from crying when I stumble forward and crash into him, letting myself break down in his arms that already wrap around my waist and keep me upright. He keeps me so tight to himself that there is no room between us. I bury my face into his neck and let out a sob, my tears mixing with the blood on his suit. I can't tell which of us is shaking harder, but all I can tell is the warmth and security that Bucky's hands bring me.
"Oh doll," Bucky whispers, sending a shiver down my spine, "You're alive. You're alive."
I mumble some sort of affirmation, but I can barely think straight.
"I'm so sorry, doll. I'm so sorry." Bucky repeats it over and over again, "God, Y/N I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, Buck. It's alright," I whisper, but he keeps shaking his head. He pulls back far enough to meet my gaze.
"I've been shitty to you. I should've listened to you, I should never have left you. I am never leaving you again."
"It's okay, I forgive you," I repeat, brushing a bloody hand against his jaw, "Of course it's gonna cost you at least four new pairs of shoes."
At my joke, a laugh of pure relief to have me back in hands escapes his lips. I chuckle softly too, taking in every inch of his breathtaking face. A tear drops down his cheek and he leans his forehead against mine.
"I love you so much, I love you more than life." he breathes.
"I love you too. That's all that kept me breathing, loving you,"I respond, and his lips are on mine in an instant.
Even though it's only been a few days, kissing him feels like I've been in a drought and he's my water. The kiss is desperate and pleading and consuming. It steals whatever strength is left in my knees and I link my arms around his neck to support myself. When he finally pulls away, he leaves a trail of kisses to my nose and then my forehead before tugging me to himself again.
"I'm going to tear him apart for this," Bucky vows, and I know it shouldn't but I still let out a breath of relief at that.
"Is that why he's not dead yet?" I ask, chuckling softly. He does the same, kissing the top of my head.
"That's exactly why," Bucky agrees, pulling back and rubbing a finger along my cheek. He becomes serious again and I feel my heart flutter.
"When I found out you were gone, I lost myself." He says, his throat bobbing as he Cho's my face with his large hands, "Y/N, there is no me without you"
I turn to kiss his hand before leaning into it more.
"I'll always find my way back to you. You're all I have, James"
Another tear works down his cheek before he finally steps to the side. The gala is trashed, but the gunfire is over. Apparently, his men were here hours before anyone else got here. I feel my strength abandoning me, so I lean my weight onto Bucky. He feels this and immediately scoops me into his arms, holding me close to his chest.
"I'm going to kiss every one of these scars when we get back" His voice rumbles, and I smile as I lean my head further into him.
"Let's go home, my love"
And he held up his promise. He never left me again.
Travis Kelce on stage at The Eras Tour London N3
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