Story: Welcome To My Hell
 Author: Nichole
 Rating: NC17
 Classification: MSR, Angst, MulderTorture!
 Spoilers: "SUZ".
 Summary: "I mutter small words of comfort,
knowing all the while that they are in vain,
that they carry no salvation from the hell that he is in."
 Feedback: Would be yummy... scoob4u@yahoo.com
 Archive: Sure can! Just ask first please!
 Author's Notes: <At End>
 Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. They are property
of FOX, 1013, and CC. We can all wish for one really
outrageous Christmas present right? Well then, mine
would be to own them. Shhhhh! Don't tell anybody though.


XXxxWelcome To HellxxXX


His body is so heavy against me that I fear I cannot breathe.
His tears are wetting the shoulder of my shirt and his hands
are clutching my arms for something to hold on to. I feel his
pain so strongly that I am beginning to feel nauseous. I hold
onto him tightly, rubbing his back and burying my face into
his hair. The smell of him intoxicates me even now, in this
time of sadness and grief. I mutter small words of comfort,
knowing all the while that they are in vain, that they carry
no salvation from the hell that he is in. The fact that he
is allowing me to hold him this way tells me that he is
facing Beelzebub as we speak.

The crippling position that I am in is beginning to take
it's toll on my body and I fear that I cannot hold him for
much longer. I wordlessly guide him to stand and he leans
into me still. Childlike, he uses me as his walking staff,
his personal guide to his room where I sit down with him
on his bed. I wrap my arms around him tightly, being
closer to him than before. He still cries and mutters
obscenities to the unholy gods that have overtaken his
life. The gods that are seen only by those who are week,
those who have lost more than they have gained.

I look at this man now and see how courageous he has been,
how strong and determined he has remained through it all.
But no one is perfect, no one has the enviable "Leave It
To Beaver" lifestyle, especially not Mulder and I.
Everything that he has done has taken more effort than it
should. Everything that we have done together has remained
imperfect and undesirable. Our lives cannot be envied,
for I know not the person who would envy such a sully
existence. We have the peace, we have the love, now
where's the happiness?

I feel him stop shaking and calm down, his breathing
beginning to even out. His face is still on my shoulder
and I feel him nuzzle into the crook of my neck. His
warm tears trickle onto my bare skin and his hot breath
add more humidity to my already moistened flesh. I place
my hand onto the back of his head to hold him to me,
wanting him to use me as his shelter and relax in my
arms. His nose and mouth touch my neck and I am filled
with emotions that I cannot explain. Instantly I am
in a state of shock, panic, fear and pleasure, all from
one simple touch of his mouth. I stay absolutely still,
not knowing what to say or do. I wait for him to move,
but he doesn't. I wait for him to say something to me,
and he doesn't. I begin to move and he grips me tighter,
pulling my body harder towards him with some raw
animalistic need that I have never seen from him before.
I wanted to comfort him and be his shoulder to cry on,
but when exactly did our relationship become physical?

His mouth is upon me and I find it hard to breathe.
I can't explain why I feel this way, but for some reason,
I want him to do this. I feel his lips move and my eyes
close. I tilt my head back a little, urging him on.
I feel his mouth open and he plants kisses on my highly
sensitive flesh. I feel his tongue glide over my skin
and I almost moan. I can't believe this is happening,
it's almost too good to be true. His weight shifts on
the bed and he leans into me more, spreading his light
kisses and gentle licks along my neck in his own
methodical rhythm. His body presses against mine until
I am lying down on his bed. He is on top of me now,
still holding my body against his tightly, for fear of
me escaping his grasp. This is what I think Mulder is
truly afraid of, losing me. So many people have
deserted Mulder, either from death or by betraying his
trust. If only I was able to utter more than a moan,
I would tell him that I wasn't going to leave, that I
will never betray him.

His hands travel down my body, stopping at my hips
and gently rubs them. His mouth is still upon my neck,
switching from side to side as he ravages me senses
with his smell, his touch, and his heavy breathing.
I feel the warm flood of desire rush in between my legs
as my head begins to spin in a million circles. I
breathe heavily, keeping in time with him as he stokes
my hips and thighs through my slacks. Every place that
he puts his hand begins to tingle and I am left only to
wonder what he would feel like inside of me.

Suddenly, I feel his hands stop rubbing as he grasps my
hips tightly. His mouth stills on a part of my neck and
I feel him suck my skin there, his intentions of marking
me quite clear, although, not what I expected from him.
He situates his hips and legs between mine and I finally
feel the proof of his arousal through his jeans. My
vaginal walls begin to contract and my clitoris spasms
in anticipation of his touch. I feel his hand slide along
my inner thigh, up to the zipper of my slacks. I can't
help but moan a little, causing him to speed up his
actions and begin to kiss my neck again. I thread my
fingers through his hair and reach up to kiss the top of it.

Once freed of my zipper, his hands go back to the top of
them and he jerks them down over my hips roughly, taking
my panties along with them. With little effort, he manages
to take them off of my legs and returns to his position
on me. I yearn for him to kiss me, to tell me how much he
loves me, but he will not. This is the closest that I will
ever be to Mulder, and for now, that's close enough.

I expect him to touch me, to feel how ready for him I am,
but instead he works on the button and zipper of his own
jeans. I want him to touch my breasts, to caress me the
way I need him to, but he will not. I realize this now.
This is not sex for love, this is sex for grief. This is
the kind of sex that married couples have when they are
upset with each other, the kind that lacks any positive
emotion of any kind and is simply about fucking. Well, if
that's what you want Mulder, then that's what you can have.

Without a second thought, he grasps himself and slides
uneasily into me. I gasp at the feeling, a twinge of pain
mixed with pleasure. I try hard not to deter him from
continuing, because I know that he needs this.  He buries
his face once again into my neck and I nearly cry at the
fact that he doesn't want to look at me.

He begins to push into me, his inhibitions being set free.
He slams into me hard, harder than I can handle for our
first joining. His hands are on the bed to balance himself,
his body barely touching mine as he continues to push
forcefully inside of me.

The pain is beginning to get unbearable now, I feel like
he is ripping apart my insides with each thrust. I try to
angle myself towards him, craving that touch on my aching
bundle of nerves but he seems to dodge the contact somehow.
I bend my knees and open myself more, hoping to soothe to
burning sensation but that only seems to worsen it. I hear
him grunt as he begins to thrust faster, his orgasm not
far from sight. I am aggravated with his selfishness,
and so I reach down to satisfy myself, to bring myself
to that release but he only pushes in harder.

I resort to grabbing his head with my hands and I force
him to look at me. His eyes open slowly, revealing his
darkened, lust filled eyes to me. This is a side to Mulder
that I never thought existed. This must be what hell looks
like. He looks at me only for a moment this way until his
true eyes come back to me. The loving, kind, and gentle
Mulder returns and he is so filled with regret and pain
that I almost wish that the hell would return just to save
him from it. His body stops moving and he withdrawals
himself from inside of me immediately.

"Oh, Jesus Scully," he loudly sobs. I reach out to hold
him and he retracts, nearly falling off the bed to avoid
my touch. "Don't Scully, just don't!"

I reach for him anyway, and he surrenders. He begins to
cry again and I feel a tremendous amount of pity and
sorrow for us both. "Mulder, it's okay," I gently assure
him as I stroke his hair.

He looks into my eyes with his and assesses the
situation carefully before dropping his gaze to
somewhere in the space between us. "Scully, I am so,
so sorry. I-I don't know what happen..."

"Shh... don't be sorry Mulder, I wanted it just as
much as you did," I reassure him.

I see him smile slightly, the corners of his mouth
going up into a beautiful grin. "Scully, do you
think that there is any way that you could possibly
love me, even if it meant having to join me in my hell?"

"Mulder, I think that both of are lives are in hell.
They always have been, always will be. It's the level
of hell that we can control, and the further from the
flames we get, the closer to heaven we'll be," I gently
tell him. He looks up at me and smiles a small smile
that I know is truly Mulder, one that I could never
grow tired of seeing, even if it meant spending my
life in hell just to see it.

"So does this mean that I can make love to you Scully?"

"No," I say dryly.

His smile fades and his head drops again. I reach
out to grab his chin and he leans towards me,
capturing my lips with his. The feeling of his
warmth on my lips is heavenly. I breathe him,
I taste him, and I feel him against me. "But I can
make love to you," I breathe.

We slowly take off the remainder of our clothing,
this time taking it slow enough to savor the feeling
and beauty of each other's bodies. The taste and sight
of his skin is like smooth, sweet honey. The feel of
him is like a warm bath on a winter day. The noises
that he makes on his decent down my body, are like a
gentle hum upon my eardrums.

He slowly enters me, and I lose all sense of right
and wrong. Everything in the world comes to a halt
and I begin to understand what they mean by love.
I feel like I could fly and the only person that I
can imagine myself with in the air is Mulder. I'm
not a romantic person, but I have recently changed
my ways of thinking in that department.

He takes his time, making sure to stroke me as he
pulls in and out. His lips are on my mouth and he
teases my tongue with his. I feel him make his way
down to my breast with his mouth, leaving a wet
trail of saliva down my neck and chest where he has
licked my skin. He teases the tip of my erect nipple
with his tongue and in response, I rub my hips harder
against his, creating friction where I need it the most.

I feel him tense and know that he is close, and this
time I am ready to be with him as he ascends from hell.
He grunts louder as he thrusts harder into me, and I
bend my knees again, allowing him better access into me.
His hand slides down my body and stops at the place where
we are joined, finding my aching clitoris with his fingers.
He teases it lightly at first, and my hips jolt towards
him in response, a moan escaping my lips. He begins to
rub harder as he thrusts faster, and I begin to moan loudly,
rolling my head around on the pillow. He can no longer
control his orgasm, and after three deep thrusts inside
of me, he grits his teeth and grunts loudly, exploding
inside of me. His body collapses on top of me, and his fingers
continue to lightly stroke my needy bundle of nerves.

I thrust my hips towards his hand, and he begins to
rub harder and faster, bringing me to my climax. I
shake against him and arch my back off of the bed, clutching
at the sheets. I feel the fluttering sensation inside of me
as my pulse races to a new height.

After I am relaxed, he kisses me and rolls to his side,
gathering the sheets around us. I lay my head on his
chest to relax, and I feel the slow rise and fall of his
ribcage as he begins to control his breathing.

"This is going to sound corny perhaps," I raise my head
to look into his eyes. "But, I do love you Mulder, and
I know that you may not want to hear that right now, but
I just thought you'd like to know."

He says nothing in reply and I lay my head down once again,
my mind racing and heart still beating fast. I can't believe
that I have just opened myself up to him like that, not
only physically, but my entire self, soul and heart
included.

"So, do you have anything to say to me about that?"
I question him, squeezing every last drop of pride
from my body.

"Welcome to my hell Scully."


XXxxWelcome To HeavenxxXX



Author's Notes: Okay, so I'm a sucker for the SUZ hug
scene. I just have this strong feeling that somewhere
in there lies some answers about the conception of baby
Will. (Well, either that or all things, HAD, ....)
Hopefully you enjoyed this fic and you feel like dropping
me a line! :)


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