Chapter Text
Stella shoved the blonde man up against the wall, her lips crashing into his and his beard scratching her cheeks. John? James? Jimmy? She couldn’t remember. She didn’t care. All she wanted was a quick fuck. No strings attached. Just two bodies using each other for pleasure. He was older than her. Four or five years if she had to take a guess, and the thought of it sent a thrill through her body. Control did that sort of thing to her, but the fact that even men a few years her senior didn’t even hesitate to be at her disposal aroused her even more. Though he was taller than her, stronger, he didn’t have any say in this.
Stella reached her hands down to his belt, pressing her hips closer to him in the same movement. She swallowed a content moan as she felt his hardened desire against her, pleased with the choice of man she’d kept her eyes on through the evening. Though her eyes were barely open, she could see his hands moving closer to her body. In a gentle movement, she let go of his belt and grabbed his wrists, slowly guiding them back to the wall and keeping still. When she knew he wasn’t going to move again, she returned her hands to his front and started to unbuckle his belt.
As soon as his pants fell to the ground it was as if her body started to move on autopilot. Not in a bad way, no, she was still very much in the moment. But she’d gone through these motions so many times that her body knew exactly what was coming next. The thrumming of arousal through her veins only increased with every move. It was as if though she had conditioned herself to physically respond to certain motions - his pants come off and her breathing changes, his shirt is next and her chest flushes red and when he lays down on the bed she can feel her nipples hardening in anticipation - and this time it was no different. On cue, her body reacted to the visual stimuli, and she felt the evidence of desire soaking her underwear.
“Condom,” she said as she watched him sit on the bed.
“I’m clean,” he countered as he took his underwear off. The sight of his hardened cock caused Stella’s cunt to clench in anticipation.
“Good. Now put a condom on.” She forced her voice to remain monotone, not wanting to reveal how much the sight of him affected her or how sick she was of that argument.
“Stella,” he groaned, slowly stroking himself. “You know it feels better without it. For both of us. You’re on the pill right? And I’ll pull out either way.”
Any other day words like that would’ve been it for her and she would’ve been out the room in seconds. But not tonight. She knew he would be quiet one way or another soon anyway. Stella stared at him, surprised he remembered her name and not saying a single thing, her gaze sharp enough to cut his dick off. The man on the bed looked as if though he had a hard decision to make, continuing to lazily pleasure himself, but ultimately settled on reaching for his wallet and pulling out a condom.
“Mhmm,” Stella hummed, arousal racing through her veins, watching as he put it on. He wasn’t huge by any means, but the way his cock was slightly curved made her body ache in anticipation. Reaching under her skirt and pulling her panties down, all she could think about was him stroking her g-spot over and over again, filling her up and making her come.
“Lay down,” she whispered when she slowly started walking over to the bed, swaying her hips.
"But…Aren’t you going to-“ He protested even as he obeyed Stella.
Stella didn’t say a word as she climbed onto the bed, placing one knee on each side of his hips. Dark, aroused eyes watched her as she slowly lowered herself down, placing his cock between her folds. Her mouth found his neck as she started to rock her hips back and forth, her eyes fluttering shut as his head made contact with her clit. With every move, she could feel herself becoming wetter and it didn’t take long before she was reaching a hand down between them and sinking herself down on his cock.
The man groaned in pleasure, his hands coming to land on Stella’s hips as their pelvises made contact. In an instant, her hands were there and forcing him away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but was stopped by Stella unbuttoning the top buttons of her blouse, revealing her cleavage. She was wearing the bra she bought specifically for this kind of situation: a black, lace push up bra that made her tits look like two round, soft pillows. Most of the time it created enough distraction from the fact that she didn’t want to get undressed. Hungry eyes fixated on her breasts bouncing up and and down in time with her movements, and this time it was no different. His mouth hung open and he licked his lips, eager to touch them, but as Stella picked up the pace, riding him with short and steady movements, his mind turned blank.
It didn’t take long before she could feel the heat start to blossom in her core and she silently thanked her body that today was one of those days she would be able to come from penetration alone. It didn’t happen all the time, often having to reach down and stimulate her clit, but if she was worked up enough and all the pieces fell into place it was possible. Most men felt pride in that, though it had absolutely nothing to do with them and everything to do with the headspace she was in.
“Ah!” The man moaned as Stella’s nails dug into his back and she started tilting her hips on each downwards thrust. It created the most wonderful feeling and sent her rushing towards the edge.
“Oh fuck I’m close,” the man grunted and started to meet Stella’s thrusts, pushing himself even deeper.
“Don’t come,” Stella panted, only a minute or two away from her own release.
“I- Oh. ..I don’t know if I…God you feel good.” His eyes were closed in pleasure, his head tilted back.
“Don’t. Come.” Stella repeated, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at her. With her gaze fixed on him, she rode him hard until waves of pleasure overtook her and her breath became so shallow she barely got any air at all. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear the sounds of the man’s release, but the feeling of her climax rippling through her body was enough to black that out. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy hearing it, but tonight she’d rather do without it. Perhaps she should feel bad, blocking out every sign of him as a human being, but so be it then. Tonight she was only driven by pure carnal desire.
As soon as her orgasm faded, Stella got off the man and sauntered away into the bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she ran her fingers under her eyes to clean away any residue of makeup and lack of sleep. The woman in the mirror had empty eyes, her blonde hair not as well styled as it used to be and her collarbones more visible than usual. She sighed, tried to stop the thoughts from racing and forced herself to look away from her own reflection. She needed to get out of here. Quickly, she peed and fixed her clothes before going back out to the hotel room.
“Can I take your number,” the man asked as she exited the bathroom. He was still on the bed. Still naked. His penis limp and his eyes gray. All of the sudden Stella couldn’t find one single thing appealing about him. It was like he’d aged 15 years in the 5 minutes she’d been gone.
“No,” Stella replied and went over to the table where she’d hung her coat over one of the chairs. She heard him sitting up on the bed, and sighed even before he opened his mouth to speak again.
“Why? I mean it was good right? I made you come and I’m in London for a couple of more days. Nothing bad about a repeat performance.”
She turned around to look at him. “I am under no obligation to entertain a relationship with you.”
His eyes went dark. Not like before, out of arousal, but out of anger. “What’s my name?” He asked plainly.
Removing her hair from the collar of her coat, she looked around the room again for anything she might’ve forgotten, before heading towards the door. “Goodbye, John.”
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The night lights of London flashed through the cab widow with Stella leaning against it. It was the middle of November and the streets were just a little bit quieter than usual. Her mind felt heavy. It always did these days and it had become harder and harder to find something to distract her from what was wearing her down. As they stopped at a red light, Stella thought she saw her again. Red hair caught in the wind, a woman leaning against a lamp pole smoking a cigarette and looking up at the skyline. The cab started moving again and as they passed her Stella realized it wasn’t who she thought it was. It never was. It never would be.
It had been about nine months since she’d been in Sweden. Nine months since she’d last seen her. Her. Her. However much Stella cursed herself, she couldn’t stop thinking about her. About Dana Scully. She knew she had given her too much, but she had no idea she would still be thinking about her this long after they parted. Maybe it was proof. Maybe she couldn’t be close to another human being in that kind of way without sacrificing herself. She didn’t want to believe it at first, but it came to a point when she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She was heartbroken, and it was like her heart was breaking over and over again every day. So she’d thrown herself into work. Spent hours at the office working through case after case. Stayed in the city all throughout the summer and helped the interns at the MET find their place rather than take the standard vacation and drive out to her favorite cot in Cornwall. She’d swam until her body caved in on itself. She’d fucked people. Fucked men. Only men. She couldn’t…Stella closed her eyes and forced herself to remain composed. She would never be one of those who cried in the back of a cab on their way home from a one night stand. She hadn’t slept with a woman since Dana. She couldn’t let herself feel that again. She couldn’t risk the gentle and soft touch of a woman because she knew it would only make her think of her.
Her.
Her.
“There you are ma’am.” Stella was pulled out of her thoughts by the cab driver announcing they’d reached their destination. She paid for her ride and exited the car, only stopping to say thank you to the driver before going silent again.
As she opened the door to her flat she was met with nothing but darkness and an eerie silence. She’d never minded being on her own, but these last few months were the second time in her life she’d ever felt lonely. The first time was after her father died and she didn’t know if she ever really stopped being lonely, or if she just got used to the feeling. And now, it was like everything hit her all over again. She couldn’t count the times she’d caught herself daydreaming about Dana meeting her by the door when she got home. The flat would be cast in a warm glow and something would be cooking in the oven, the smell hitting her in the face as soon as she walked in the door. In the distance she would hear music; Etta James or Jeff Buckley or maybe The Cranberries. She would be able to tell what kind of mood Dana was in depending on what kind of music she played and hearing songs by Etta, Jeff or The Cranberries would always be Stella’s favorite. That was the kind of music Dana would play when she would come and meet Stella by the door, her eyes big and glowing, her cheeks rosy and her hair would be put up in a messy ponytail. That was the kind of music that would play when Stella would be welcomed home by love.
“Fucks sake,” Stella whispered to herself as she ran her hand through her hair. She needed to stop thinking about her. Desperately. To distract herself, Stella went into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of whisky before walking into her study. Grabbing the first notebook she laid her eyes on, Stella sat down and started going through her notes, transferring them to another book and cleaning them up. They were from the case she was currently working on, a murder of a local London politician which had gained quite the attention from the media. But it was nothing like Belfast, and so far the investigation was running smoothly. The leads they had all seemed to connect and she wouldn’t be surprised if they would wrap it up in another two or three weeks. It was obvious. A politician targeted with hypocrisy because of his left wing views and the millions of pounds he was getting from a hospital in South Africa. If Stella had to take a guess, the killer was someone who had been personally affected. Maybe a family member suffered from poor healthcare because the hospital was obliged to pay the international shareholders a huge share of their income, resulting in cutting of staff and medical assets. It was her first big attention case since Belfast and she found herself praying over and over again to a God she didn’t believe in that she wouldn’t fuck this up as well.
The sound of her work phone ringing pulled her out of her focus and she quickly looked at the clock. It was 2am and she questioned who would be calling her at this hour. Nevertheless, it was her work phone so she reached for the device and accepted the call.
“Gibson,” she said as she leaned back in her chair, reveling in the feeling of the dull ache between her legs.
“Hi…” A soft American voice on the other end. A voice Stella had thought so much about she couldn’t even tell if this was real. “...It’s Dana.”