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french-vanilla-in-the-clouds · 2 years

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝐅𝐎𝐗 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Mulder arrests Alex Krycek, he sets the stage for a dangerous reprise. Y/N is now in the line of fire, and Mulder's enemies are determined to hurt her if it means breaking his morale. He must make a choice: let her go, or condemn her. 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭/𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: Anonymous

𝐅𝐨𝐱 𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @foxmulderlovebot

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Agent Mulder arched his back against the Interrogation room's rigid steel seating. His body ached with tension. He breathed in time with the steady ticking of the clock, and ignored the dullness of the swinging lights above. He fixated his attention onto the detainee seated across the table, determined to hear the truth.

Alex Krycek stared back just as intently.

"I'm not sure why you're smiling, pal," Mulder said, finally. He loosened his tie before skimming over a folder of printed documents. "Murder... conspiracy... treason... domestic terrorism... You've been caught on every front. You can count out a miraculous escape this time."

Sickly shadows ghosted across the room's cracked walls. Krycek grinned, his eyes darkened from the shade. "You think you've got me trapped? Sorry to rock you off your pedestal, space boy, but I won't be sticking around."

"You're not going to hurt anyone else," Mulder pressed. "I've nailed you."

Krycek leaned back in his seat and jangled his chained wrists. "This won't last," he scoffed. "You're a smart man, Agent Mulder, so use your brain. We both know that I have connections." He leaned forwards until Mulder could feel the whisper of his breath when he spoke. "You threw off my mission. My employer won't be pleased. There will be consequences to your derailment of his progress."

"You're talking about Black Lungs, aren't you?" Mulder grinned. "I hate to break it to you, but throwing off his dirty schemes is my job."

"And breaking your morale is his."

Krycek licked his lips in dark satisfaction. His handcuffs chimed merrily as he leaned forwards and lowered his voice. "By arresting me, you've slowed down the old man's plans," he whispered. "Now it's time to pay the price."

Mulder's jaw clenched at the subtle threat. "What are you saying?" He asked carefully.

"Your heart, Mulder. He's going after your heart." Krycek pulled back and winked. "Y/N is in the line of fire now."

Mulder's eyes dropped down to the table. His fists clenched until nails pierced skin. The air seemed denser than it had a moment ago. The clock kept ticking, but his breathing strayed from its rhythm.

Without warning, Mulder lunged forwards and gripped the collar of Krycek's tattered coat. "Nobody touches her!" He shouted. "Do you hear me? Nobody lays a hand on Y/N!" He tightened his grip until he heard the tear of stitches.

"You did this to her, Agent Mulder! Nobody asked you to be the hero!"

Mulder's grip faltered as the echo of Krycek's words set in. His own ambitions had ultimately jeopardized Y/N's wellbeing. He pulled back roughly and stood up. He felt shaky on his feet, but held his ground. He studied Krycek's indifference, looking for any sign of deceit in his cold eyes. He searched for a reason to believe that Y/N would be okay, but found none.

From his periphery, Mulder noticed another agent and a guard rush through the door. He shoved past them, but before departing, he spoke crisply. "If anything happens to her, I swear that not even the iron clad bars around your prison cell will keep me from getting to you, Krycek. I won't let you hurt her."

Krycek spared a glance behind his shoulder. "Then I guess you'd better run, Agent."

***

Y/N lounged on the sofa of apartment 42, listening to the static of the radio. Fox was due home hours ago, but it was past midnight and there was still no sign of him.

She began to drift off, lulled by the late night quiet. She had nearly fallen asleep when the front door creaked open.

"Fox?"

He didn't reply. Y/N watched as he stepped towards her and knelt down.

She studied the shadows beneath his eyes. Even through the darkness, she could see that something was wrong. "Are you alright?"

Mulder pressed his lips together. His brows furrowed in contemplation as he focused on his next move.

"I need you to listen to me," he said, finally. "I know that you deserve an explanation, but I don't have time for it right now." He leaned forwards, close enough that Y/N could feel the warmth of his breath. "You need to pack up a change of clothes, and you need to leave. Now."

Y/N's eyes darted across his terse features. He seemed disheveled. There was an urgency to his tone that she didn't recognize. What worried her most was the fear in his eyes.

"Fox? I don't understand what you're telling me." She reached for his hand, but he jerked back.

"We're running out of time! The longer we wait here, the greater their chance of finding you. Can't you understand that?" Mulder stood up and flicked on the lights. He began collecting Y/N's things, desperate to send her away.

"Who's going to find me?" she asked, frightened. "What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"

He said nothing.

Y/N watched as he crudely packed up, fetching what he could find. He moved quickly, his actions mirroring his urgency.

"Fox?"

He ignored her questions, and concentrated on his duffle bag instead. He tried to be meticulous, if only to push away the dark reality that was creeping in too close.

Y/N finally snapped. She rushed towards him and gripped at his sleeve. "Mulder, just tell me the truth!"

He paused.

"The truth?" His eyes burned at the effort of his control. He dropped the duffle bag. "I don't even know what that is anymore. I don't know where the truth begins or ends. All I know is that somewhere along my search for it, I fell down the rabbit hole, and now, the price for my mania is your life."

He gripped Y/N's shoulders. The blue of his eyes gleamed through unspent tears as he struggled through his next breath. "I've killed you, Y/N. That's my truth."

Y/N dizzied at his words. She always knew that Mulder's place in the X-Files carried with it threats of danger, but she never expected to be caught in the middle of it. Nevertheless, she refused to blame him for their predicament. Their relationship had always been a risk, but it was one that they took together.

She pressed a hand against his chest. "Don't think for a second that this is your fault," she said. "I chose to be a part of your life. Whatever's happening, we'll get through it."

She laid a kiss at the corner of his mouth. "We're okay," she whispered.

Mulder's jaw clenched. He pulled back and grasped her hands in both of his own. "I love you," he said softly. "And I appreciate your assurances, but this is bigger than you can imagine. I'll be damned before I see you hurt." He rested his forehead against hers and shut his eyes. "You'll be safe once you're far away from me. Please. Just go."

Y/N was almost convinced by the desperation of his tone. She focused on the feel of his fingers laced around her own. She could feel his growing anxiety from the slight tremble of his hands. She sighed, cognizant of the truth neither wanted to admit. "Fox," she whispered. "Wherever I go, they'll find me. I think you know that as well as I do. At least if I stay put, we'll have each other. There's really no point in sending me off."

She waited while he mulled over her words. Finally, he sighed and dipped into the crook of her neck. "I was really hoping you wouldn't have a clever argument to counter mine," he mumbled. "I figured flight would beat fight in this instance. Leave it to you to dismantle the pristine logic in my plan."

Y/N could hear a faint smile sounding over the pain in his voice. "It was a stupid plan," she teased.

"That's still to be decided."

Mulder shifted until he caught Y/N's gaze. He placed his hands on either side of her face and slid his fingers delicately over her skin. His touch was warm, his hold firm.

"We'll get through this," he said softly. His words weren't so much a declaration as they were a question; an appeal for a bit of hope in their crisis.

Y/N leaned into his touch. "The two of us," she nodded. "I know it."

Mulder smiled.

He turned back on his heel with a new sense of calm. "It's not like we have an alternative," he said firmly. Y/N watched as he stepped over to the desk and fetched a roll of masking tape from the drawer. He ripped out two strips and joined them to stick an '𝐗' against the window.

Mulder perched on the corner of his bureau and assessed his handiwork. "We'll get by," he affirmed. "They won't get the better of us. Whatever they might think, we won't step down."

Y/N joined Mulder by the window and wrapped her arms around him. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you," she breathed.

The pair stayed silent as they looked out at the night sky. All was quiet for now, but they knew that in time, there would be a steep price to pay for peering beyond the smoke screen. In that moment however, it didn't matter.

Not when they had each other.

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To the anon who requested this, I am SO sorry for the wait!!! I think I've felt guiltiest about holding back on this fic because your idea was so perfect!!! If you ended up reading this, I hope you enjoy! Have an awesome day!!!! 🛸🖤

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Tagging: @andthevillainshallrises @foxmulderlovebot @danzalladaggers @trinswhimsys @misaverawrites @pytharuw @raspberryfistfight @buttballs420 @badwolf00593

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postmodernbeliever · 1 month

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how to relax - fox mulder x female reader (smut)

a seemingly endless case in the middle of nowhere has you stressed out of your mind, to the point where the only thing that doesn't push you too far is fox mulder. with all that stress and no way to reel yourself in, your partner decides he wants to help show you how to relax.

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wrote this bc sometimes we (i) just need a (toe curling) self-insert to satisfy our (my) daydreams. i dedicate this to all those who are chubby and in love with fox mulder. if you prefer to read on ao3, you can find me at the same username.

my ao3 | word count; 5,419 (i got excited, okay?)

content tags (i copied from ao3 bc im lazy): dom fox mulder, praise kink, fluff and smut, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, hand & finger kink, subspace, size difference, belly bulge, co-workers, mutual pining, idiots in love, pet names, stress relief, cross-posted on ao3, smut, subtle plus size reader, soft fox mulder, mentions of freudian shit bc come on this is the x files, talking you through it, fox is literally so awoooooga the whole time, fox gets cocky as always, fox mulder the munch, bathroom sex, fox just can’t help himself literally so i hope you enjoy

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

you’d been beyond stressed all day, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for you. what was frustrating was that you had managed to grow so agitated that it seemed nothing could help you calm down.

your work with the fbi was your life, in all its stress-inducing, time-consuming, hair-splitting glory. you were as tight-assed as they came (ask literally anybody!) all of that pressure on top of a naturally anxious and irritable demeanor made you difficult to enjoy being around, and you knew it. but today, of all days, it was truly catching up to you physically. the muscles of your jaw were sore from the tension they held, fighting between your teeth for release. your head swelled between your eyes and nose, pulsing softly like a glowing light that wouldn’t dim. your throat was dry, your footsteps heavy, your hands restless; you were wound so tight that everyone you encountered feared you might snap like a rubber band, lashing against them in recoil.

fox mulder was the only one who had stayed on your good side all day, which is surprising, given your partner was typically the casual aggressor of your everyday life- what with his constant nagging and ridiculous speculations about every crime you investigated. he never once changed his attitude, let alone change the color shirt he wore to work every day. yet it seemed this time he was off the hook, because the case you’d both been assigned was dragging like no other.

it was your fifth day in the desolate yellow countryside of a rural town you so lovingly renamed as bumblefuck, virginia; all you possessed was an immaterial, mulder-esque lead that couldn’t be pinned down (as your fellow agent was torn between shapeshifter and werewolf). on top of that were ten dead bodies, no evidence, and a motel room with broken air conditioning, complete with a leaky sink. you were sick to death of the heat, and the town, and the local policemen who seemed to have but two executive functions: hit on you or ignore your assertions. for a stagnant fifth day, you’d experienced more frustration than ever- the cops have begun to give up on catching a suspect, fox was investigating muddy footprints all afternoon like the freak he is, and you were stuck to sit in the closet-sized archives room at the local library where teenagers and nagging townspeople came in to ogle the “fbi lady”… jesus, no wonder your head hurts.

fox came by every so often to check on you that afternoon. once with a cup of coffee, once with half of a sandwich he’d thoughtfully taken a bite out of to piss you off, and again with dirt all over his face and a wild story about how he caught a glimpse of his x file mid-attack. if you weren’t used to his personality by now it might’ve made things worse, but in a way his teasing and subtle acts of service were the only soothing memories you had to reflect on. he was a moment of consistency between the endless chaotic installments of the afternoon.

at the end of the day, you were mentally exhausted, hungry for the other half of that sandwich fox ate, and in need of the shitty motel bed; at the very least some peace and quiet, just for one night. but it seemed your partner wouldn’t let you have it.

you’d had about an hour to yourself before fox materialized in your motel room. after a shower that quickly ran cold, you slipped into a sweatshirt, a threadbare set of sleep shorts that were a bit tight for your pudgy legs, and two flimsy socks that didn’t match because you hadn’t packed for a trip this long. you’d tried watching the television, but the antennae were spotty no matter how you arranged them. the air conditioning machine clanked and whistled nonstop, and hiding under your pillows didn’t dull the racket. the best part was when you tried to light the little bedside yankee candle and the lighter ran out of fluid- but not before it sparked and burned your thumb. you’d finally begun to decompress when a familiar knock sounded from outside. summoning a forcibly loud groan- so your tall visitor heard exactly how you felt- you clambered off the creaking bed and towards the door, which revealed his trademark smug smile.

“good evening, watson!”

“what do you want?” you sighed, closing your eyes.

you felt his hand push your shoulder to the side, and the man squeezed past you into the room. you scoffed and said, “oh, please, make yourself at home!”

“i will, thank you,” fox teased. “i came to check on you.”

“because?”

“well, you’ve been a wreck all day! didn’t laugh at one of my jokes. you nearly bit the sheriff's head off tonight when we checked in at the station before leaving… i just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“oh? well, you know what? no, mulder, i’m not okay. we’ve been stranded out in the middle of nowhere for a week with no leads and no progress and the food here sucks and i haven’t had a single good night’s sleep and all my socks are dirty!” you ranted, pacing in front of the half-open door like a lunatic.

fox grinned as if he knew something you didn’t and turned from you, heading towards the tiny bathroom tucked in the corner of the room. you slammed the front door shut and followed him, snapping, “what, you come in asking how i feel and just walk away? explain to me how that makes any sense, mulder!”

the agent leaned against the bathroom sink, hands laid curiously on the lip of the counter. he dutifully watched the little crystal droplets that fell rhythmically down the ceramic bowl. the air surrounding him felt charged, like if you stepped too close, you’d get shocked; almost as if his thoughts were electrifying the oxygen.

he frustrated you beyond belief sometimes. the man stood in your bathroom like his day was going perfectly fine. a gray t-shirt clung to his lean arms, hugging the curves of his biceps like it was tailored for him alone; his sweatpants were black and littered with lint from the hairy couch in his apartment, and they hung low on his hips, peeping the waistband of his black boxers like a well-known secret. his hair was pointing every which way in its tawny misdirection, and he had the nerve to inspect your sink, and lick his lips like he had all the time in the world to enjoy the southern sticks and lupine mysteries, all while you had to scour newspapers and sleep in ten minute increments to survive.

“mulder, what the hell are you doing?”

“your sink is leaking.”

“yeah, i know, sherlock.”

“did you ask them to fix it?”

“mulder, i will not hesitate to kick you out.”

“jeez, somebody’s worked up.”

the man pivoted on his feet, facing you with a newfound sense of purpose. you were prepared to object his statement, but were silenced by his hands finding your hips. he was so quick to slide you up onto the counter that you forgot your rebuttal- in fact, in his rush to relocate you, you’d forgotten to think entirely. he had your thighs pinned to the cold, white countertop, and parted so he could press his tummy to the spot where your legs met. his shirt rode up in the moment, and you could feel the warmth of his bare skin against the fabric of your shorts.

fox’s hands felt rough. you stared at them, at the sheer size, and recollected all the little stolen glances of those fingers sifting through his filing cabinets, or analyzing your field notes, or polishing his gun. countless vivid reminders of the strength of them as they pulled you back from bullets and unexpected staircases flashed before your eyes. how often you longed for them, you couldn’t say, but it was clear to you now as those same hands held you down that you had taken a serious liking to them.

it took you a while, but you managed to mutter, “what are you doing?”

fox could only smile wider and say, “you need to relax, don’t you?”

“what does that-”

“why don’t you let me help you?”

you swallowed thickly, feeling a bubbling heat rise in your belly. his calloused palms rode up your legs, finding room for his thumbs to begin drawing soft, sweeping circles against your hip bones. your brain clouded so fast you forgot to answer.

“i’ve never seen you so aggravated before… like, by every little thing. i mean, i know you get annoyed, but these past couple days have been so rough for you, haven’t they? just can’t calm down, can you? you look so tired, so tense. i can feel all the tension you’re keeping right… here,” he consoled, letting up on your hips to press a hand to your lower abdomen. when you sucked in a nervous breath, the man pressed a little harder, and you twitched beneath him. “i can fix that for you, if you want. show you how to relax a little.”

“y-you’re not even supposed to be in here,” you wheezed, “agents… agents aren’t supposed to consort in the same room, mulder, remember?”

“awh, come on, don’t start following the rules on me now! don’t you wanna feel better, honey?”

fox spoke like every word was a secret, leaning in close to your ear. the scruff of his five o’clock shadow brushed against your fresh face, eliciting a spidery chill down your spine.

“what’s gotten into you, mulder?”

“i asked you a question, sweetheart.”

you panicked, swallowing air like it was water. these kinds of questions felt new coming from him. anxiously, you let out a shaky breath and nodded, hoping that was enough. you couldn’t handle much else.

“is that a yes?”

“...mhm.”

“can you say yes for me?”

fuck. “yes.”

“good girl. it’ll help, i promise.”

it seemed he couldn’t be going any slower than he was just then, gingerly removing his hands from your waist and biting his lower lip like the reincarnate of a dream you’d entertained too many times before. you watched with a spinning head as his long, spindly fingers hooked under the waistband of your shorts. his pale eyes twinkled at you, sage steeped in milk, as he asked, “can i?” in that lilting voice he uses only when the room is begging for quiet. when you eagerly nodded, he chuckled, “lift up for me a little, okay?”

you followed orders and pressed your shaky hands to the tile, raising your hips so he had room to slide your shorts down. his face melted at the sight of you underneath.

night after night, he’d fantasized about those doe eyes of yours watching him free you up like this, but he never imagined he’d get the chance. until this afternoon, when he resolved to create the chance. through all these years working beside you, he’s only grown to admire you more. you were cunning, you were gentle with kids, you were smarter than he ever could be (even if you disagreed.) but you were also tired. you lived alone, you slept alone, you never asked for help and you declined every offer. fox hated to see you facilitate your own frustration. and this past week has only exacerbated his need to fix it- watching you so angry, so pent up, so in need of attention- he couldn't bear to let you suffer any longer. it seems he’s been lucky, too, because you sat quietly, patiently, all so that he could take care of you. grateful for the opportunity, fox didn’t want to waste any more time.

with those dreamy fingertips grazing your underwear, fox was the spitting image of boyish charm. he admired the worn black and grey striped fabric covering what was left of you, thinking aloud, “had these for a while, huh?”

“since i was in college,” you muttered, “everything i wore was dark back then.”

“nothing’s changed. you’re very punk rock,” he winked.

you didn’t know you were capable of laughing in your current state, but it came bubbling up in a nervous overflow. he watched your lips curl, and the way you threw your head back like you couldn’t stop yourself. you felt embarrassed to be so swayed by his stupid humor, but you had no choice. not when he had you wrapped around his finger like this.

“you’re a dork.”

“you like it, though,” he reassured.

you watched the man hesitate, eyes darting down to your lips; you closed your eyes, hoping it would nudge him in the right direction, and you were right. fox had to crane his neck down a bit- because even with you on the counter, he was still taller- but he made himself level, and he pressed his lips to yours so gently you almost didn’t feel him there. what announced him was the taste of him, actually; stale coffee on his tongue, and what you deduced to be the black-label chapstick, the kind that tasted like medicine. you toppled into him like you were falling off a cliff, clinging to the hem of his shirt in longing.

fox seemed to like how you hung on him. it made him feel risky. his hands meandered across your tummy, pushing up under your sweatshirt and roaming the soft skin of your back. he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged softly, and when you opened your eyes in surprise, he nudged your nose like a kitten and let it go. he was good at taking control like this, at making your nerves ebb and flow to his pace. you were so entranced in the way his lips meshed with yours that when his dominant hand found its way to your hips again, you mewled in anticipation.

“you sound a lot prettier when you’re not arguing with me,” fox joked. you met him with a soft sound from the back of your throat, and his eyebrows furrowed in amusement. “can barely speak, can you?”

“mm-mm,” you answered, trying to trap his lips again, but he pulled away.

his eyes shifted shade, and you were now seeing yourself reflected in much darker irises. your back shivered against the mirror on the wall. he broke eye contact and let it linger on your legs, his palms swiping over the skin with intention. swiftly, he bent over and began pressing kisses to your inner thighs. you let out a strangled whine, which made him shudder.

“you want me to get to it, hm?”

“please, f… mulder,” you whispered, blushing like a fool.

the man rose again to lock you in a soft kiss, one so much more loving than the others that it let butterflies loose in your chest. interrupting their fluttering, he prodded, “what was that?”

it was out of you before you had a chance to weigh the outcomes. “please, fox.”

having teased long enough, fox dropped to his knees and pushed your panties aside. his mouth was so slick from all the time it spent on yours that it was dangerously warm as it pressed against your heat. you let out a lewd string of moans as his tongue trailed a long, torturous stripe between your folds, taking his sweet time getting to the top. he felt you throbbing, all the blood in your body pulsing like a heartbeat for him. his lips, just a bit swollen, peppered a few gentle kisses to the skin before surrounding your bud and starting to suck.

you squeezed your eyes shut so hard it nearly brought your headache back. fox grunted between your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing hard into your bones. you softened for his tongue as it swirled inside your pussy, tracing shapes to drive you insane. your hands burrowed into his cropped cut and tugged in desperation, which he liked so much it practically made him growl; the sound bounced between your walls, sending a sensation into your stomach that made your legs tremble. he felt so good inside you like this, lapping like a puppy at your water; you bucked against his big nose, craving the friction, and he responded with relentless thirst for you.

“fuck!” you whined, “fox- agh,”

coming up for a gulp of air, you caught a glimpse of his slick chin as it glinted in the yellow light. “feels good?”

“shit,” you panted, “yes, obviously… more,”

“more, huh?” fox licked his lips with hungry eyes. “i’m gonna need you to say please, baby.”

“jesus, fox, please! pretty please, baby, please just keep going,”

“fuck, don’t call me names…” the man swooned at the broken cry in your voice, resolving to give you whatever you needed until the day you die. now wasn’t the time for confession, though, so he filed that away for later. “pretty please. god, you’re good.”

you nearly choked as he pushed two fingers into you, curling them in a rough come-hither motion. he bombarded you with himself, sucking hard on your clit and fucking his fingers into the swelling spot inside you, making you lurch against his touch like an animal. with your head thrown back against the motel mirror and pretty mouth gasping for him, he realized that his dreams could never do this moment justice. the sugary, tangy taste you left on his tongue, your soft skin that smelled like shower suffocating him, the way his name rolled off your tongue- you were the real fucking deal, not some half-assed daydream that got him off at night. you were beautiful, and for not being a praying man, being on his knees before you felt right. who was he to stand eye to eye with you, when down here where you were perched above him like an angel, he had so much more room to worship you?

“fuck, i- oh, i’m…” you whimpered, grinding against his face with fervor.

“let it go, honey, come on,” he cooed, “i’ll take care of you.”

“b-but i- i’ve never- oh my god!”

the agent watched you battle with yourself, all the while writhing on the countertop, so he carefully brought his thumb to your clit and picked up the pace. he rose to you again, using his free arm to slither around the base of your back and pull your body flush against his. you bunched his shirt in your fists helplessly and hid your face in his shoulder. it took all his strength not to collapse right then and there, but he kept moving for you, and you rocked against his palm like you were made for it. when he realized you were going to need a little more help, he gave it to you.

you were stressed, after all, and sometimes somebody’s just got to talk you through it, right?

“never had it this good before, hm? nobody’s ever made you cum, sweetheart? you poor thing,” fox twitted, clicking his tongue. “you work so hard. my smart girl, so good at her job, so independent… you deserve to be taken care of, to feel good, baby. to let go of all that stress,”

you struggled to think straight as his gruff voice battled the ringing in your ears. his palm pressed against your back with so much care, like if he moved it you’d shatter into a million pieces. it was all so much, to have your partner with you like this; to hear him breathing beside you, to feel his fingers in a place you’d never thought they’d be. he saw the gears turning in your head still, and he wanted to shut your brain off for good. and god, did he. fox coaxed it right out of you like it was his job.

“come on, good girl, you can do it,” he whispered. “cum for me, honey, i know you can. show me you can.”

for every moment of danger you found yourself stuck in, fox was there to protect you. when you got reprimanded by a director, he was there to hold your hand behind the safety of the desk. when you were late and needed a cover, he was prepared with a detailed story. you’d forgotten a raincoat a comical number of times, so many in fact that he began keeping a spare in his office for you to borrow. fox was always there, waiting to help you, to guide you, and if it was fucked up (so far as to call it freudian) then so be it- you needed it from him. you needed his safety, his warmth, the strength of his arms around you. his reassurance.

and to hear him care for you like this, too, to pull on your strings and unravel you like a tired tapestry… god, nothing ever felt so good.

fox’s eyes rolled back as you twitched on his fingers, moaning his name like a prayer into the stuffy bathroom air. your hands struggled to find a place to stay as they combed through his hair frantically, tugging and trembling; it was like you’d never been touched before in your life. you had, but very few times, and it was just like he said- nobody had done it right. but he had. it felt like his hands were crafted to please you. they knew exactly where to touch, how fast, how gentle, how deep. the man figured you out instantly, which was as exciting as it was terrifying. you’ve never felt so out of it in your entire life.

you panted wildly, and fox gave soft kisses to your hair while you tried to regain your composure. but you couldn’t. you couldn’t get a grasp on anything. the world was floating in limbo around you, all inconstant; the countertop felt as foreign to you as flying did. but even in your daze, you craved more- the second he stopped, you needed him to start again. you could barely speak, but he heard your mumblings: “m…more, more, f… foxie,”

that nickname gave him goosebumps. slowly, he said, “baby, i don’t have anything with me for that,”

“don’t care. please.” you begged. there was no way he could say no to you, not when your pretty, cloudy eyes looked up at him how they did.

“okay, baby, okay.”

fox gave no warning, but nothing would have prepared you anyway- you instinctively opened your hips wider just to make enough room for him. he pushed all the way in, letting himself bottom out; the man let out a moan so guttural that you clenched around him in reflex. you were lucky enough to see him make that pretty ‘o’ face, and that might’ve been enough for you, honestly, but it wasn’t for him. he needed you, and he needed you fast.

his thrusts were no match for all the grinding you could do. he snapped back and forth like a whip, hips rolling so hard that it felt like he was digging inside you deeper each time. you dragged your nails down his back, trying to find something to hold onto, but his moans in your ear as he hid his face in your neck were so distracting you kept having to start over.

“jesus, baby, you’re so tight for me,” he grumbled, “feels so good, you’re doing so good… fuck, my good girl.”

his praise made every nerve in your body short-circuit. it didn’t matter how he moved, you couldn’t stop babbling. he tugged your hips forward a little more, making you slump against the mirror, and you clutched the countertop for dear life.

“can’t use your words, huh, baby? look at you, smartest analyst in the fbi and you can barely speak, all because of me,” he tormented. the man pressed his right hand against your tummy again, just like he had before, and he growled with lust. he seized your hand and pressed it flat beneath his in the same spot, and he fucked you harder, forcing it down until you felt his thrusting beneath your palm. you never thought you’d feel anything like this, not with your soft stomach, but he was making it possible.

“you feel that, pretty? feel me inside you, filling you up? you’re mine now. all mine.”

you had no control. you whined, “foxie,” jerking your hips against his cock in a craze.

“god, that’s right, that’s my girl.” he smiled.

“s-so… a-agh, please!”

“mm, i know, baby, keep going,”

you had no more words left, you’d used them all. fox had figured out how to take away all your stress, yet in the process, he took your whole mind with it. now you were just his, a thing to be kissed, a fleshy body for him to praise. for a control freak, you loved being the one under another’s control for once.

you scratched at fox’s shoulders, a mindless drop of drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth. you felt his cock as it swelled against your slick walls, and how it poked against your insides, and if that weren’t enough, he moved his hand to your clit again and resumed rubbing those blissful circles into it. you could only sit there and grind against his touch, muttering strings of curses and unintelligible sounds.

“agh, baby, you’re so pretty like this,” his moans were growing harsh, turning into whines. “all fucked out, mm, so pretty for me,”

his hips started snapping erratically, and your back arched against the increasing speed. his teeth met your shoulder and he bit softly, grumbling, “i’m so close,”

in what felt like a cry but came out as a strangled whimper, you warned, “m’gonna… agh…”

fox watched your face screw up in pleasure, and it pushed him right over the edge. your body collapsed as you let go, and he rushed to hold you to him and keep you upright. all the way in your gut, where your hand once rested, you felt him pooling all over, thick and warm. his thumb swirled you slowly, working you through it so you didn’t get too shocked. he was stationary for a while, unable to move from the overstimulation; but when he did, he watched the stuff bubble out of you, though only just a bit. his throat closing up at the sight. he gathered some of it on his fingers and raised them to your lips, and you licked them sweetly. his stomach churned as you gazed down at his hand with foggy eyes, somehow still lustful after all he’d done to tire you out.

“good job, baby, you were so good for me,” he crooned, leaving sloppy, tired kisses all over your neck. “someone’s gotta take care of you, don’t they?”

you just murmured little hums, and he loved every second of it.

“you hear me, pretty girl? nobody takes better care of you than me, you got it? who takes good care of you?”

“foxie,” you admitted in your mindless bliss.

“that’s right, baby, foxie does. you’re all mine, honey,” he gushed. “not so stressed anymore, are you?”

“mm-mm.”

“are you okay? take a deep breath for me.”

you tried to speak, but the words weren’t forming. you couldn’t string anything together. all you could do was make quiet noises and mutter his name. “mmph… foxie,”

“here, come here, honey.”

fox tucked his hands beneath your thighs, and after instructing you to wrap your arms around his neck nice and tight, he carried you from the croaking bathroom sink to the motel bed, where he took extra care in laying you down comfortably. he climbed on top of you and adjusted your shirt, smoothing the fabric over your plush tummy and drawing a dopey smile from you.

“stuck in your head, hm?” fox asked.

he’d read up on this type of thing before- subspaces. typically common in BDSM practices, but not exclusively. there was a study conducted that detailed the experience theoretically as a headspace induced by rushes of endorphins, causing the receiver to fall into a trance-like state. he remembered reading how when someone is in a subspace their ability to communicate can be impaired and so can their judgment. it was also suggested that asking grounding questions may help coax people out of them (don’t ask how he found such a study.) so being the guy he is, he took everything very slowly from there, and followed the science.

“can you hear me, sweetheart?”

“mm.”

“good. what’s my name?”

your stomach fluttered at the question, and warmth pooled between your hips at the softness with which he asked, but your brain was two steps behind. it took you a minute to answer, and you could only do it with your eyes closed. “foxie,” you muttered.

“good girl, good job. that’s right,” he rewarded you with a kiss to the collarbone. beneath his breath he muttered, “fuck, if that isn’t cute.”

he could see you were somewhere else. all of your behavior was so needy. you might’ve thought you were a headcase before, but he’s no stranger to id impulses either; he saw how you pushed into his palms, how you refused to let go of his shirt, and he just wanted to help you through it. he wanted to make sure you felt safe.

“baby, can you open your eyes for me? can you let me see your pretty eyes?”

you peeked through one and saw his handsome face staring back at you, that toothy grin blooming flowers in your chest. slowly you opened the other, and even though the world was swirling, you managed to keep them open.

“you’re doing so good, thank you, baby,” he chuckled. “now, i’m gonna put your shorts back on, okay?”

“m’kay.”

you took a deep breath. he watched your chest rise and fall, and your cheeks burn even redder than he thought possible. your hand held his wrist tightly, tight enough that he prayed your nails would leave little moon-shaped marks behind. you shook your head and tried to wipe away the fuzzy feeling.

“what’s my name again?” he asked, noticing how hard you were trying to focus. he tapped on your hip so you’d know to lift them, and he wriggled your shorts back on, admiring how they hugged the skin.

“f-fox.”

“good. what’s my job?”

“you’re… a profiler,” you volleyed, feeling a little more grounded with each passing second.

“good girl. and where are we, honey?”

you squinted at him and smiled, “bumblefuck, virginia.”

when fox laughed, it felt like all the angels rung their bells. something about seeing his face light up and whatever was plaguing him, whatever he was in danger of, just wash away in the moment was nothing short of enlightenment. you wished he’d laugh more, so you could see divine intervention on the regular.

“coming back to me, hm?”

“yeah,” you giggled.

fox leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “i’m trying not to let my ego explode right now, you know,” he smirked, “i never thought you wanted me so bad.”

you blushed, hiding behind your hands. “i… oh, god.”

“no, no, it was cute! really. you… you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted to do that.” he promised.

“i’ve never felt-” you paused, wondering if it was worth saying. yet, if he could bring you back to earth after fucking you stupid, what secrets could you hide from him? “i’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”

“who, me?” fox laughed.

“mhm. it’s just… agh. you. it’s only you, fox. embarrassingly so.”

it was his turn to blush then. fox leaned down to catch you in one more kiss, and you felt his hand search the bedsheets for yours so he could tangle your fingers with his own. he didn’t want to break away, so he said it right into your mouth, pausing for air: “god- i have- loved- you for- so long.”

fox couldn’t help but feel proud of himself as he laid down between your legs, resting his head on your warm belly like it was a pillow. you instinctively took to his hair, playing with the chocolatey tufts and wishing he’d never move. he fit so perfectly right there, and now you couldn’t ever let him go. you didn’t want to.

with one last kiss to your hip, fox grinned. “told you i could help.”

#spooky mulder #x files #fox mulder #smut #smut and fluff #fox mulder smut #x files smut #fox mulder x reader #agent mulder #fox mulder x you #praise k!nk #soft d0m #Spotify

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internet-sadass · 4 months

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Can't Keep My Mind (Or Hands) Off You (Fox Mulder x pregnant!female reader)

Blurb: Mulder can't keep his mind, or hands, off you now he's got you pregnant, which leads to a little lunch break fun in his car.

Warnings: smut, car sex, pregnant sex?, breeding kink

A/N: If anything about pregnancy in here is not realistic, oops, I have not been pregnant and I tried my best to research the symptoms etc. Also, the reader works at with the FBI but doesn't work with Mulder on the X Files. She does come and do admin work for him (like photocopying and bringing him coffee) because that's what a good partner does 😘

"Okay, so I managed to photocopy these photographs for you. They're not the best quality, but I'd say they're passable. I mean, you can still make out the shape of a figure in the tree line. I'm guessing that's what you need them for, right? Identifying weird humanoid figures."

Mulder nearly dropped the folder he was holding.

"You're not wearing a bra." He stated, completely matter-of-factly, despite how he stared at you.

It was true: you had forgone a bra that morning and opted for a white vest under your blouse instead. Your breasts were constantly aching now you were well and truly into your first trimester. Wearing a bra meant you would wince all day and be unable to focus on anything except how sore your chest was and how much you couldn't wait to tear your bra off as soon as you got into your car at the end of the day. But today, you weren't in the mood to suffer hours of feeling like someone was squashing your already tender breasts constantly, so no-bra it was.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully at Mulder as you set the thick pile of photocopies on his desk.

"You're observant this morning. Did you listen to anything I just said? Or do you need me to repeat that all while you," You tilted his chin up so his eyes met yours rather than admiring the twin peaks of your pert nipples against your blouse. "Keep your eyes up here."

Mulder placed his hands on your waist, running them down over your hips. Since you'd shown him the four identical positive tests and the doctor had confirmed that you were indeed pregnant, he'd found it incredibly hard to keep his hands away from you. Everything he'd loved about you and your body was amplified tenfold now. And right this instant, your significantly fuller breasts, the healthy flush across your cheeks, and your pretty eyes staring up at him were destroying his normally undying devotion to his job.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you, don't worry. The photocopies. Thank you, sweetheart." You were pulled closer to him, very much breaking the 'no touching' rule you had agreed on to prevent the pair of you from losing your jobs over inappropriate workplace behaviour. "More important is, why aren't you wearing a bra? You're not, you know,” He lowered his voice, “lactating?"

You laughed, shaking your head.

"Nope, not yet. Going to be another few months before that happens. They're just sore, that's all, and wearing a bra is getting pretty intolerable. So, no bra."

As you explained, Mulder’s hands wandered over the changing contours of your body, settling, as they always did, on the subtle hump of your pregnant belly. Even if he couldn't feel anything, since the baby was no bigger than a plum at this stage, he felt an instinctual need to place his hands protectively over the warmth of your lower stomach. Sometimes, he swore he felt something stirring within you, but he knew it was just his very wishful thinking.

Snapping back into the present moment, Mulder recalled that you said that your chest was hurting.

"Can I make them hurt less? Please." He whispered, hands drifting up to cup just below your breasts. He leaned close to you, kissing your cheek so softly that his lips barely met your skin.

You shivered at his touch, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on your sensitive flesh, to have his mouth on your skin, kissing over your sensitive areolas. Another kiss was placed on your cheek, making you groan. As much as you, and presumably Mulder, wanted to take the day off and spend the whole time rolling around in bed, you knew that would have to remain a fantasy.

"Later. I promise. As soon as we get home, I'm all yours." You placed your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt. "We can last until the end of the day, can't we?"

Mulder wasn't sure he could last that long. How could he if you were walking about looking so damn irresistible and beautiful and full?

Clearing his throat, he finally released your body from his protective grasp.

"We can, yes." He lifted the photocopies you'd made. "Especially if I have to go take a look at this sasquatch. Keep my mind occupied."

‘And off your gorgeous body’ , He added mentally.

***

"Oh, please be gentle- ah, careful!- please be gentle with me, Fox." You whimpered, arching your back against Mulder's torso as he pulled your vest up over your breasts, catching on your nipples, making them sting. His hands settled on your breasts, cupping them, weighing them in his hands. They certainly felt bigger to him, filling up more of his hands than before.

"I'll be gentle, don't worry. I'll be so gentle with you, doll." He whispered back to you, brushing a thumb over one of your nipples, making you keen and squirm against him. After many hours of being unable to think of anything but you, he was glad to finally get his hands on your body and touch it as much as he (and you, of course) wanted. As much as it was your body that was making him harder and harder every passing second, the way you begged him to be gentle with you and your heightened reactions to his touch only added fuel to the fires of his arousal.

The pair of you hadn't made it to the end of the day. When Mulder got a minute, he found you and nearly dragged you out to his car. He'd driven to a slightly more private place than the bureau car park, and both of you moved to the backseat, kissing each other like a pair of teens who'd finally got the house to themselves and were free from the prying eyes of their parents. Now you sat on Mulder’s lap as he touched you, drawing all sorts of pretty sounds and whispers from you by just lightly touching your tender and aching chest.

Every caress, every careful touch of your tender breasts was a sweet mix of painful and pleasurable. You were in ecstasy, arching your back, grinding against Mulder's thighs, begging him to ‘stop’ and ‘keep going’ simultaneously. The sensation of him sucking and kissing at your neck only made you more desperate and aroused. Though you winced whenever your flesh was squeezed, your eyes almost rolled back into your head when he rolled his thumbs over your nipples, drawing circles on them just as he did with your clit every time you two got intimate. Your climax felt embarrassingly close, considering he’d done nothing more but grope your breasts and kiss your neck. The fact you could feel his erection, so hard it was almost painful for you to be sitting on, only added to how turned on you were.

"P-please...I want more of you. Touch me more." You panted out, seizing one of Mulder’s hands and moving down under your hiked-up pencil skirt. He pushed your panties aside and slid the tips of his fingers along your leaking slit. Thick, creamy arousal gathered on his fingers and leaked onto his trousers, staining them with a prominent damp patch.

"God, you're so wet." Mulder mused as he slid two fingers into you. There was no resistance whatsoever, as your insides welcomed the intrusion of his fingers, twitching around them. You groaned and bucked against his fingers as they pressed up into the most sensitive part of your insides.

"A-all because of you." You said, struggling to speak as you couldn't focus on much else except how good it felt to have your pussy spread open by Mulder’s fingers.

He chuckled, scissoring inside you before pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace.

"That's not true; it's not all my doing. It's because of your hormones, too."

As he toyed with your pussy and rolled your clit under his thumb, slick leaked out, soaking his hand and the leg of his trousers. You writhed about on his lap, grinding against his stiff length. It was Mulder’s turn to moan as your movements threatened to make more pre-cum leak from his slit and wet his boxers. He wanted to be inside you so badly, especially as he could feel how wet and pliable your pussy was right now. A whine left your lips as he slid his fingers out of you.

“You’re so needy, aren't you? It’s cute.” He mumbled as he guided you to lie across the backseat. Placing one knee on either side of your hips, he straddled you, leaning down to kiss you as he undid his belt.

You smirked against his kisses.

“Speak for yourself. You can’t even pause to take your pants off. That desperate to be inside me.” You whispered back to him.

Mulder didn’t fight back with words. Inside, he moved his mouth from your lips to your nipples, running his tongue over one of them, swirling around the hard nub. You winced and groaned, your body unable to decide whether it liked the sting of your oversensitive buds being touched in such a way. Seeing your reaction, he moved to the other nipple, bringing a hand up to gently squeeze your breast and circle his thumb over your now wet nipple. You writhed about under him, switching between arching your back, pressing your chest up to him, and shrinking away, trying to escape but finding no way to roll away from him without falling off the seat.

Feeling as though he had ‘tortured’ you enough and got his fill of toying with your gorgeous chest that had been distracting that whole day, Mulder lifted your hips, lining your entrance up with his weeping tip. He entered you, earning a sharp gasp of pleasure from you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to stay hilted deep inside you.

This was what Mulder had been thinking about all morning. Even with a particularly promising case to chase up, all he could think about was you and being inside your intoxicating tight, wet heat. As much as he wanted to draw out the process of rutting into your velvety insides and feeling you clamp around him as you said his name over and over, he simply couldn’t hold back. He pounded into you, filling the car with the slap of skin on skin and the sickenly wet sounds of his cock spearing open your soaking lips. You looked so perfect below him; your pupils blown out, your skin sheening with a light layer of sweat, your neat office makeup beginning to run as tears squeezed from your eyes, your full breasts bouncing with every thrust of his hips. To top off the view of you, looking more beautiful than ever, the way you were saying his name every time he hit your deepest and most sensitive spot was something he knew he’d replay in his head whenever he couldn't be with you. You swung from breathing out his name in pants to calling it out to barely whispering it as your orgasm broke and made you fall apart under him. He already knew he loved you, but at that moment, as you said his name in a barely audible tone and looked up at him with doe-eyes full of adoration, it felt like that love grew tenfold.

“O-oh, god, fuck, I love you.”

Words fell out of Mulder’s mouth, very much beyond his control, as he felt the heat of his orgasm spread from his lower belly and along his length. He felt himself fill you with spurt after spurt of his hot seed, his cock pulsing as it emptied its load into you. Reluctantly, he pulled out of you, smearing his tip over your swollen folds, unwilling to let any of his cum go to waste.

You sat up, a wave of dizziness washing over you. Clearly, so much excitement and activity had put your delicate body under some strain, and it struggled to cope. You looked down at yourself, noticing the gradually growing puddle of cum leaking out of your entrance. The more you sat up, the more that leaked out. You groaned at the sight; it almost made you want to go another round.

“God, you always cum so much. No wonder I got pregnant the second time we tried. Your car seats are ruined now.” You said, laughing as you forced yourself to sit fully upright and start making yourself look presentable again.

Mulder shook his head at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“They’re leather, so that won’t stain or mark them. And aren't you glad we didn’t have to keep on trying to get you pregnant?” He said, nudging you.

You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance at his remark.

“I don’t think either of us would have minded it taking more than just two times without a condom. Not that we need condoms or an excuse to fuck like rabbits anymore.” You joked, helping re-do Mulder’s tie for him, kissing the tip of his nose.

***

Scully was waiting for Mulder when he rushed back into his office, still looking much more dishevelled than a man coming back from a completely average and normal lunch break should look.

"Mulder, where were you?" She asked, looking him up and down, folding her arms like a parent would do to a misbehaving child.

"Um...Lunch." Mulder fumbled with his answer, knowing as soon as it left his mouth that there was no way in hell that Scully would believe that he’d just been away getting lunch.

"For over an hour? It took you that long to get lunch?" She pressed, closing the door to his office as he searched about his desk for the photocopies of the sasquatch you’d made him earlier.

There was a long and uncomfortable pause as Mulder stared at the photocopies in his hand, trying to think of a way to answer Scully’s question. At this point, he knew it was basically pointless to carry on giving her excuses; she had worked out what he’d been up to the minute she saw him. Finally, he thought of a (pathetic) reason for why he’d disappeared for nearly two hours.

"There was a queue. A long one."

#fox mulder #fox mulder x female reader #fox mulder x you #fox mulder x reader #mulder x reader smut #agent mulder #the x files #fox mulder x reader smut #fox mulder imagine #the x files fanfic #fox mulder smut #mulder smut #mulder fanfic #fox mulder fanfic #mulder x you #mulder x reader

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pocagreen · 17 days

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FOX MULDER IS SO FINE

I AM STARVING FOR MULDER FANFICS I swear I am loosing my mind I have read pretty much everything on both tumbler and ao3. I NEED a multi chapter straight up BOOK I wanna see Fox and reader meet, work together, fall in love, get in a relationship, relationship fluff, occasionally some smut?, be in an ADORABLE relationship

longer fics always end after they get together!! I wanna see them get together AND THEN get a whole bunch of fluff chapters NOT ONE OR THE OTHER 😭

THE PEOPLE ON THIS PLATFORM ARE SOO TALENTED SO I TURN TO THOU IN DESPERATATION 😔

PLEASE SOMEBODY 🙏😭😭

#fox mulder x reader #fox mulder #fanfic #fox mulder x you #fox mulder smut #agent mulder #mulder #spooky mulder #x files

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b1ue-harvest · 1 year

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First Name Basis

FOX MULDER X GN READER

Author’s Note: OMG it’s been so long since I have written anything on here and I think it’s finally time to get back into it I’ve been obsessed with the X Files recently and had this cute idea late last night Enjoy!

You had known Mulder for about one month now after being assigned to the X files and had grown accustomed to his wild theories, sarcastic comments, and the dingy basement where the two of you had spent hours talking and pouring over case files. In the rare moments of calm, he had begun to open up to you about his past and his childhood. He told you how he believed his sister was abducted by aliens and how he had never forgiven himself for what happened. You knew so many personal things about him, but one day you realized something... you didn’t even know his first name.

You opened the door to the basement and saw Mulder was sitting at his desk, chewing on the end of his pen and reading. He looked up as the door opened and you walked in.

“Morning,” he said as you made your way to the chair sitting opposite him.

As you sat down, you said, “What’s your name?”

He paused and lifted an eyebrow at you. “Well, considering you’ve been here a month already, I thought you would have figured it out by now.”

You smirked. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. What’s your first name? You know mine. It’s only fair I should know yours. Do you not like it or something?”

“Not really,” he huffed and took a sip from his coffee mug.

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “Just don’t. That’s all. Why do you care all of a sudden?”

“Because,” you started, “I thought we were friends. Friends tell each other stuff. I know plenty about you already, but I don’t know this.”

He sighed and put his book down. The light from the table lamp hit his eyes at just the right angle, turning them blue, green, and brown all at the same time. You had always thought he had such pretty eyes, the way they changed color depending on the day, how they always sparkled when he talked about things he was passionate about. You could stare into them all the time if you could.

“Fox,” he said softly. “My name is Fox.”

You nodded. “Fox Mulder. Well, it certainly isn’t boring.”

He chuckled. “Believe me, I wish I had a boring name. It’s better than ‘Spooky’ though, so I’ll take it.”

You wandered around to his side of the desk and put a hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s a lovely name. Thank you for telling me.”

Fox gazed up at you with those sultry eyes. Your heart skipped a beat and your cheeks threatened to turn pink. For a moment you thought you were going to do something you’d regret, something that would ruin your relationship, and you thought you saw the same thought flash across his face too, just for an instant. But, just like that it was gone. He went back to his book and you began organizing paperwork, but a glimmer of hope beamed through your mind. Perhaps, one day you could do something about it.

#fox mulder x reader #fox mulder #agent mulder #special agent fox mulder #mulder and scully #mulder #fox mulder x you #dana scully #the x-files fanfic #the x files #x files #txf #txf fanfic #david duchovny #gillian anderson #txf fandom

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thursdaygxrls · 4 months

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….ummm what if i wrote for scully and mulder???

#dana scully #fox mulder #agent scully #agent mulder #x files #mulder x scully #dana katherine scully #x files fanfic #mulder x reader #fox mulder x reader #scully x reader #dana scully x reader

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triplehmunson · 10 months

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𝙋𝙊𝙑: You work in the FBI and by orders of your boss in command you had to team up with three of your coworkers, to carry out an investigation against a very powerful mobster. The problem is that you don't get along very well with your colleagues who are Mulder , Scully and Pena when you inform them that they have to do this job together, they all get upset because mainly Scully doesn't trust you because a couple of weeks ago you "promoted" very quickly and you're already in the major leagues and she thinks that just for your "beauty" fools men, after about two weeks and after a lot of work and investigation you shut Scully's mouth up because thanks to your contributions to the job, they managed to catch the gangster and you and your other three colleagues congratulated them and You were promoted.... In the end, you and Scully smoothed things out and started a friendship.... and possibly you find love in Javier since they got too close and forged a great friendship and mutual affection. (You are Lizzie 💕)

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alexiswritingstuff · 7 months

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guys I know this is completely out of nowhere but does anyone have any ideas for a fox mulder fic with a gender neutral/ male reader???

I wanna get back into writing, but I've only been able to think about him since starting the x-files like two month ago.

It can be pretty much anything as long as it's SFW. I just need something to get me going because he is just floating around in my head even if I can't think of decent scenarios.

#fox mulder #the x files #agent mulder #mulder x reader #the x files x reader

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randomfoggytiger · 2 months

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I started watching X-Files a couple of months ago and finally finished the whole show, plus the movies and revival. Jesus. I started looking at fanfic but am totally intimidated by HOW MUCH OF IT there is. Like. 30 years worth of it? Where do I even start? Do I read old stuff or new stuff? Are there any authors that have been writing since the 90’s? Who’s stuff should I be reading? What should I be reading? There are so many different kinds! (Okay, but not fluff, because The Ick.) (and only the shippy stuff because I am not a monster.) Where does one even start in this fandom?

Thanks for coming here, Anon-- I'll do my best~. ;)))

TLDR: If you want to read the classics-- the multi-chapter beasts hailed across The X-Files fandom-- I'd go to @lilydalexf's page and sort through her pinned Masterpost of recs; if you want my personal favorites, I've got my own complied Masterlist pinned, as well. If you want author suggestions, I listed a few below (but not all-- even of my personal favorites.) Older fics have a more "walled-off" approach to Scully and an edgier, distant approach to Mulder; newer fics have a more open approach to their exchange and dynamic. I prefer the latter, but that's likely because I was able to watch the show as a whole rather than episode by episode with a lot of guesswork in-between.

It's hard to pinpoint where to recommend you since I don't know your preferences; but here's a very loose attempt to do so:

I'm more of a short fic reader, but I'd recommend @melforbes, @slippinmickeys, @cecilysass, and @wexleresque for long chapters; @teethnbone, @leiascully, @aloysiavirgata, @enigmaticdrblockhead, @dreamingofscully, and @sarie-fairy for "atmospheric" writing; @baronessblixen, @welsharcher, @agent-troi, @television-overload, @invidiosa, @swinging-stars-from-satellites, @thescullyphile, @msrafterdark, and @edierone for well-balanced fluff/angst/humor/comfort fic/etc.; @o6666666, @ghostbustermelanieking, @mappingthexfiles/Apostrophic, and Lapsed_Scholar for their wonderful shorts (but especially Lapsed's Requiem AU compilations); @settle-down-frohike, @suitablyaggrieved, @amplifyme, @wtfmulder, @freckleslikestars, @lyndsaybones, @numinousmysteries, and Jenna Tooms/misslucyjane for their focus on Mulder and Scully as a "mature"-- for lack of a better word-- couple (no matter when their fics are set); @xxsksxxx and @writingwell write long-chaptered casefiles (my writingwell fic recs here might help?-- sorry for the codes, I was rushing out those notes); and if you want the authors everyone recommends, then @mashnotesofthemythopoeic/Penumbra (Masterlist) and prufrock’s love/plenilune (@lilydalexf links/descriptions here) are two of the many that fit the bill.

Other fic recs you might be interested in: @cecilysass's write more of these and Milagro recs, @enigmaticxbee mytharc and Scully family recs, @pennyserenade's reading recs, @two-microscopes shorter fic rec list, @nachosncheezies's slightly psychic Scully recs (describes three of the big x-files fics), etc. You want beautifully short poeticesque ficlets written and recced by @leiascully? Boom. You want Deadalive fic reccs? Kachow. You want opinions from the OGs? The aforementioned aloysiavirgata, amplifyme, baronessblixen, leiascully, suitablyaggrieved, cecilysass, settle-down-frohike, dreamingofscully, msrafterdark, as well as @iconicscullyoutfits and @myassbrokethefall (who write amazing meta, btw.)

Are you interested in AUs that write in Gillian Anderson's pregnancy? That have a storyline sans baby all together? That stick to canon all the way through the Revival? That stick to canon mostly, except for a bit of branching off here and there? Multiple Monday fics? Post Pine Bluff Variant processing? Mulder or Scully PTSD or panic attacks or hurt comfort? The many different flavors of Mulder's abduction or return? Casefiles (admittedly I stink at those)? My own fics (also in my pinned masterpost)? An author whose style you're interested in but would like a description of their work before making a long-term commitment? Lemme know~! :DDDD

Gotta run! Hope you like! (And sorry for any spelling errors~.)

#asks #anon #fandom #touched you came here-- thank you~!#though I don't know how helpful or clarifying this was for you XDDD #xf fanfic #txf #fic #rec

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muldermuse · 5 months

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Plus One (Fox Mulder X Reader)

This is based on an ask I recieved <333 thank u for sending it through

Scully is unable to attend an event so Fox asks you to be his plus one.

“It means a lot that you’re coming tonight, I’ll uh- I’ll pick you up at your apartment at 6? Have a chat about the mission in the car and then go from there…I’m looking forward to seeing you…Scully said your dress looks good and you know that she knows more about that stuff than me *laughs*. Um, okay well this is a long voicemail so uh-right, I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh! This is Fox by the way.”

It definitely was not your usual practice to have a glass of red wine before getting ready for a mission but you had to admit that you felt nervous about tonight. It was standard for Mulder and Scully to do something like this. To get intel about a case, they’d dress up and rub shoulders with people unknowingly involved in an X File. Sometimes they’d pose as a couple and other times they would pose as two singles trying to seek out a partner for the evening. They would collect as much intel as possible and within the following weeks; the case would undoubtedly be solved.

This was a huge case so Scully was in another state, sleeping in her car to avoid the bed bug-ridden motel that Skinner had put her up in. Fox was too nervous to ask you so you got a call from Scully late last night. The key contact Fox had been trying to speak to about this case was attending a Gala in Washington. The contact was old school, any guest to the Gala had to have a date for the evening, and of course; it was a black tie event. You were reluctant and Scully knew you would be. “Listen, if you want to fly out and take my place in this crappy rental car, which stinks of fries for some reason- I would thank you for it. But, you’ll have a great time and I know you have that black dress that you’re looking for an excuse to wear…”.

So here you are, pouring a large glass of red wine and listening to the Spice Girls as you try to focus all your nervous energy into applying your make up and curling your hair. You slip your dress on at quarter to 5. The dress was expensive and it looks it. It’s black and shimmering under the fairy lights strung over your bookshelf. It’s hugging your curves, it’s hiding any insecurities and you have to admit- you look amazing. The remaining wine in the glass slides down your throat and gives a final rush of adrenaline. Fox knocks at the door at exactly 6 o’clock.

***

He's wearing his glasses. That’s the first thing that you recognize. Not the bouquet of flowers tightly clutched in his fist, not the perfectly tailored suit or the nervous expression covering his face.

“You’re wearing glasses, I’ve never seen you wear them outside of the office.” You smile at him and he smiles back but he seems distracted. He doesn’t reply for a few seconds and as the awkward energy fills the air; he thrusts the flowers towards your hands.

“Yeah, I think they make me look smarter” He awkwardly laughs. “These are for you...obviously…you usually have peonies at your desk on special occasions so I thought you’d like them.”

“They’re beautiful, I didn’t realise that you noticed stuff like that. Maybe you’re a better agent than I suspected Fox” you wink as you go back into your apartment and place the flowers in the sink with some water. You take the moment with the faucet running to compose yourself.

God.

He looks so fucking good.

The nerves that have slowly dissipated over the past hour are suddenly back without warning. He looks so good- do you look alright? Oh god, are you not dressed up enough? Does he think you look okay? I bet he wishes that Scully was here right now, you could potentially jeopardise this entire case and you know how hard they’re both working on it.

You’re too lost in your own thoughts to hear Fox cross the room and place a warm hand against your lower back. The tension zapping through your body streams out with a deep exhale.

“I have a car waiting downstairs, we should probably go”. He holds his arm out for you with a grin and he guides you downstairs. He holds the car door open for you. Whilst you have a moment alone; you whisper to yourself an affirmation that tonight will go well.

You have no idea that Fox is doing the same thing.

***

Fox has liked you for a while and he suspects that this occasion is all Scully’s doing. There was no real reason for her to travel to Wyoming, it was some anonymous call which Fox completely doubts the validity of. When it comes to the X Files and his career, Fox is a ‘do-er.’ He wants to get out there, prove the importance of his work and save lives.

However, when it comes to his relationships. At the minute, Fox is less active.

The moment he saw you smiling; you had never been far from his thoughts. Scully struck up a friendship with you through a mutual love of the same sandwich served a local deli. Fox would sit in on your lunch dates together, he’d always try and make you laugh- feeling an immense sense of pride when he did.

Scully had disclosed to him her feelings on your boyfriend, Jason. You had so much love to give and he seemed to be the opposite. Closed off and cold. Scully told Fox you’d been arguing more and were getting close to breaking up. When you did, Fox watched from afar as your usual bright smile never reached your eyes.

***

The car ride is filled with idle chat. The tension in the air seems to mount as you both try desperately to ignore it. Fox tells you about the Gala and what to expect. It’s more of an occasion to scope out the group rather than to gather intel on a specific target.

You don’t realise that as the car drives closer to your destination that your knee begins to bounce and your fingers fidget with the tassle on your handbag. Fox rests his hand on your knee and his thumb rubs calming small circles on your soft skin.

“You look amazing, thanks again for doing this.”

Before you can thank him or compliment him back, the car pulls to a stop and the door opens.

***

The room is grand and glamourous. It’s a decadent affair with rich red velvet curtains and carpets decorating each room. The different perfumes and aftershaves blend together to create a sweet floral scent that lingers as every person passes. It’s a crowd of black tuxedos and billowing ballgowns, everyone smiling politely with a clear hint of judgement to every passerby. The sound of the band is lost over the exchanging of pleasantries and the distinctive pop of champagne corks, followed by a polite cheer.

It's completely unlike anywhere else you have ever been or anywhere you are likely to ever go.

“I think I’m the poorest person in here by about three million dollars, Fox”

“Oh no, it’ll be way more than that,” Fox says with a wink as he hands you a glass of champagne. He moves in close enough to whisper to you and you try to ignore the sensation of his breath fanning your neck.

“See that guy over there with the red suit, he has a huge interest in extraterrestrials. It’s massive so much so that he spends around five and a half million dollars a year trying to prove they’re real. He’s got that much money it’s basically a game.”

The bubbles of champagne trickle down your throat as you move closer into Fox’s hold. He holds your waist and rotates you to look at another corner of the room. His breath remains hot on your neck and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol coursing through your veins or his presence that is making your head feel fuzzy.

“That lady over there with the huge hat, like, ridiculously big hat.” You nod at Fox without taking your eyes off her. “The Lone Gunman guys suspect that she gets all her money from selling UFOs that crash, on the black market. She only leaves her guarded house three times a year and this is one of the occasions.”

“Suspect? So it could be something completely different.” You smirk up at Fox, he grabs another two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and hands one to you. “Who knows, maybe she makes her money selling really big hats.”

“Or maybe, the reason her hat is so big is because it’s broadcasting a message to a UFO flying over Washington”. His grin matches yours.

You clink the glasses together and without the other knowing, both of you acknowledge the butterflies fluttering in your stomachs.

***

Neither of you speak to anyone else, you find a quiet corner tucked away in the hall room and chat. You sip on a glass of wine and Fox holds a tumbler of whiskey but both drinks go warm as you get lose in the conversation with each other.

It dawns on you that before tonight, you’ve never really spoken to Fox as it’s usually a group environment or a passing hi-goodbye as you both make your way home at the end of the day.

He tells you about his family, he tells you about his favourite cases and more importantly than all of the things he’s saying to you- he’s present with you the entire time. Conversations with your ex were one sided and that was something that took months to admit. You realized your relationship with Jason was over during a conversation. You’d just got the promotion that you’d spent months working on and he asked one simple question that felt like a knife to your pumping heart.

“When were you going to tell me about that promotion?”

You had told him; of course you had. You’d told him when you first heard about it, you’d told him the planning you’d spent weeks organizing and you told him the morning of the interview.

He hadn’t heard any of it.

You’d been together over a year. You had met each other’s family, met each other’s friends, you’d fallen in love and within that conversation; you realized how far from love you both had fallen.

The big band music was gradually playing louder and louder. You’d both been straining to shout over it to keep the conversation going. Eventually, you realized a way you would be able to hear Fox better, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.

***

The music was soft, flowing through the air as the lights began to dim slowly and the illuminated table decorations filled in the dark spaces. You placed your arms around Fox’s shoulders as his large hands slid down to your waist. Your heart was beating the steadiest that it had all night.

“How did you know about the peonies? I’ve never told you or Scully about that.” Your hands remained interlocked around his neck as you fought the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

“Well, I know your birthday and you had peonies on that date. When you got that promotion, you had peonies, and when uh…yeah, you have peonies.” A nervous look flashes across his face. You know what he was going to say.

“When I broke up with Jason, someone in the office got me peonies and left them on my desk. It was the only thing that made me smile that week”. The memory still makes you emotional, the week was relentless sleepless nights and non-stop crying. On the last day of the week, there was a gorgeous bunch of peonies in a vase on your desk. No note, no name- nothing.

His hands tighten around your waist as he rests his forehead against yours, “I’m glad you liked them…it was hard to see you look so sad”.

Of course it was him.

It always was.

It always is.

Before you can carry on speaking or stop the tears trying to fill your eyes. He tilts your chin to meet your eyeline with his thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you look tonight or thanked you for this…I mean thanked you properly."

You place your head against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist, continuing to sway to the music; you hear him take a breath before carrying on.

"I've liked you for a while and god, does that sound childish to say. This means a lot to me and you being here means even more. I'd like to take you out, I can't always promise it will be this fancy...actually, I can guarantee it never will be but I want to spend time with you. In any setting, I possibly can."

He doesn't look at you and you don't look at him. It felt like a confession he needed to make but perhaps didn't have the confidence to say it to your face. Which is amazing to you because Fox Mulder doesn't strike you as someone who struggles with anxieties.

"I think this place is a bit too fancy for me, maybe we can chat more at the 24 hour diner near my apartment? I think we'll look a bit different from the usual patrons" You gesture at your black gown and his tuxedo. He smiles as he takes your hand and leads you to the exit.

Before you get back into the car, you press a kiss to his lips and thank him for the evening. For the entire journey to the diner; you hold each other's hands tightly.

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french-vanilla-in-the-clouds · 2 years

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✧.* 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✧.* || REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

**tell me in the comments if you would like to be tagged in anything!**

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

-ˏˋ CHARACTER X READER! ˊˎ

➤ Fox Mulder | @andthevillainshallrises @foxmulderlovebot @danzalladaggers @trinswhimsys @misaverawrites @pytharuw @raspberryfistfight @buttballs420 @badwolf00593 @fumblelace @petite-mushroom

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

A few notes...

TO ALL THAT HAVE BEEN TAGGED - YOU’RE ALL SO GREAT!! *HUGS*

If you would like to be tagged in any of the lists above, just tell me in the comments! Either on this post or any of my fics! These are all the characters I’m working on (for now), so let me know because I would love to add you!

If you would like to be added in multiple lists, just say the word! This list is always changing!

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postmodernbeliever · 1 month

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stalker - fox mulder x female reader

at the fbi, your job is to watch who you're asked to. but on your own time, you watch fox mulder... and little do you know, he's watching you, too.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

my ao3 | word count: 3,518

content tags: sneaking around, embarrassment, stalking, longing, fox mulder is watching you, you are watching fox mulder, fox is a freak like you, fox likes weirdos, obsessive behavior, suggestive themes, you and fox just kinda eyefuck and nothing happens but god should it, cross-posted on ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

they all call him spooky mulder. what a nickname, spooky- even in its mainstream use, it has not lost its effect. there was always something off about him, something unsettling, which piqued your interest. you liked it so much that you paid special attention. it was your nature to keep tabs; you watched him come and go from his basement office, all the while pretending to be down in the gutter of the j. edgar hoover building for any other suspicious reason than taking mental notes on him.

sure, it may sound creepy, but this is your job- this is why the fbi has you on the payroll. you’re what they call “the eyes and ears”, and in a sense, you don’t really have a job. your cover is to work in the filing department, faceless and nameless, and keep things organized as they go off to different sectors. you are the one sending weapons to evidence (or elsewhere) and case files to agents (or not) at the heart of the organization, where you just become the signing-off signature. but that office, where you blend in, is how they use you best. orders directly from the top tell you who to watch and when to come forward with information. but they never assigned you to special agent fox mulder. as was his infamous passion project dubbed the X files, this was your unassigned interest within the bureau- he was your freakish fixation.

you followed his case files as they came to inconclusive endings. you noticed when his hair grew too long. you knew he liked the coffee from the break room by a.d. skinner’s office, but he liked the creamer they kept on the first floor, so he traveled cross-complex to make the cup taste just right. you’d read every report and drowned in his philosophical, metaphysical droning, admiring the prose so overdosed on sleep deprivation and the ramblings of a transcending mind. it was like twisted poetry, how he explained what each case had imparted upon him. the way he viewed sociology, the way he viewed intervention both divine and damned, the manner in which he proposed the forces at play work and how they are ever-changing and insurmountable… god, he really is a genius. everyone may think he’s insane, or that his work is a waste of valuable resources, but fox mulder’s mind was one to be entertained, one to be challenged. to let his power go misrepresented or his purpose go any less than unabated would be a crime (if anyone asked you.)

see, this is why it could be considered weird. you revered him like a deity, unapologetically idolatrous of his brainpower- and from a more internal, girlish yearning, you loved his face. god, that face. you had examined his personal files many times in the safety of your office, tracing invisible lines over the photographs of him; caressing the scrapes and bruises documented from altercations with suspects, drooling over his academy polaroids stashed away from old physical exams. he still looked as young and charming as he did in his old school photos. a young oxford man, beautiful, traumatized, in need of proof. his work demanded his darkest instincts and most disgusting thoughts, and you loved him for it, or at least the idea of what it turned him into. and as far as word travels, fox mulder bars no personality incontinuities. after all the stories of the blood he’s tasted at crime scenes and the horrific pictures of murders and monsters plastered on the walls of his murky office, he was more than just spooky. he was freakish, and uncomfortable, and alluring.

now, fox is no idiot. in fact, to even think your interest was going unnoticed was a major misjudgment of his perceptive abilities; the man is the best analyst in the crime division, for god’s sake. he's never missed a clue. yet somehow, in the midst of your innocent stalking, you’d imagined he never saw you standing in his basement hallway, or mingling in the first-floor break room by the irish cream. naivety never crossed into your work, but it clouded your visions when it came to him. he’d seen you every time, shifty eyes fidgeting with blatant secrecy. when the man who didn’t believe in random events saw you more than once, he began following your lead.

fox mulder kept copies of your personal files on his desk and sifted through them often, trying to get any information on you to substantiate why you paid so much attention to him. aside from his widespread suspicion, he also had a sense for intent, and he felt you were of no harm. even lurking in the shadows, there was a comfort to your presence. that might be his creepy personality being used to unsettling beings, but he didn’t mind. he liked catching you looking. he liked the way your suit jacket never matched your pants, but always somehow coordinated even in clashing patterns. he liked how your hair curled like french fries at the bottom, wide and loose. he liked how your manicured nails were always dark and sharp, and blatantly against bureau policy. fox knew you were as new to the fbi as he, so not new at all, but a child to seasoned agents; he learned of your ridiculous retention of information, and that you read twice the clocked words per minute of the average american. he knew of your graduation from yale and your speedy completion of the academy, as well as your elevated skill for firearms, which immunized you from a majority of field training. he knows about your secret connection, yet not who it’s with, and that it’s ushered you into a disguised deep-level position. in less legal ways of determining, the agent discovered you were the president of your high school’s history club, as well as the chief editor of the newsletter, and your family had a summer cabin on the oregon coast. you were smart, valuable, integral, even- and your talents were being wasted under cover of the monotonous filing department. he knew more than you realized. but even with his disturbing understanding of you, fox couldn’t figure out why it was him you watched- you had no connection to him, no link to his work or anyone who aimed to sabotage it. of all your secrets, he seemed to be the biggest.

you’d never expected anything to come of your little infatuation, but fox mulder didn’t like to let things linger. so when you just so happened to be venturing into the basement for something in the archived evidence room, he went into pursuit. you swiped your key card in the automatic door, and he followed you inside and made sure to close it nice and loud behind you. the lock clicked, causing you to jump out of your skin, and he laughed.

“not a fan of followers, huh?” the man teased.

“you just locked us in here, sir!” you nearly choked. you’d never seen him up close and personal. his shirt was a wrinkled mess, but it looked so nice rolled up on his fair-skinned arms, and his hair was a lot darker in person than it looked in the pictures. so were his eyes.

“sir? no, nobody calls me sir.”

“what should i call you, then?” you groaned.

“agent mulder. spooky mulder. basement boy. whatever floats your boat!”

“well, then, agent mulder,” you elected, “you just locked us in here!”

“is that what you’re worried about? don’t worry, i'm sure agent scully will come down soon enough. or maybe not. maybe you’re stuck in here with me.”

you pivoted and began walking down the first aisle of archives, trying to come up with something to grab to avoid blowing your cover. fox kept at your heels, poking his head playfully into your eyeline.

“looking for something… you?” he inquired.

“that’s agent to you.”

“no name? ooo… spooky,” he wiggled his eyebrows, and you suppressed the fluttering in your stomach. you thought in frustration, how dare he make wordplay hot?

“says you.” you negated.

“so you do know me!”

“everyone knows you, agent mulder.”

“oh, sure… but you’ve been watching me, haven’t you?”

you stopped between the alphabetized boxes marked by Hs and Js, biting your tongue. you watched as fox sauntered around to the front of you, leaning nonchalantly against the filing shelf and smirking. his hand raised to wipe his mouth, and you analyzed the rough calluses and ink splotches carving uniqueness into his knuckles. a deep cut rested along his thumbnail down to his wrist. you recognized it as a healed-over wound from an inconclusive case months ago- something he claimed to have involved lizard men.

“i- i’m not sure what you mean.”

“you’ve been following me around, taking note of what i do. i see you every day. sometimes in the break room, sometimes in the bullpen by the car desk, sometimes shooting guns down at the range room on saturdays like i usually am. you’re always… floating around.'' fox mused, running a hand through his thick hair. a few pieces curled agonizingly over the frame of his face, and you felt like dying.

“must be coincidences.”

“you know well as me that there are no such things as coincidences,” fox stated, “there are simply events that occur, and more often than not, they occur causally, or in my case, through spurious correlation, but nobody can ever seem to pinpoint the third invisible factor that links one event to another, except for me.”

“speak english, agent mulder, would you?”

“you’ve been following me, which caused me to notice you, which caused you to pretend you haven’t been, and so forth,” he sighed, “but you know what i’m saying, don’t lie. you’re a yale alumni, graduated summa cum laude with a double major in psychology and international affairs. you’re one of the smartest women in the building. so why are you acting dumb?”

your stomach flipped as he stepped closer to you, leaning down in all his six-foot glory to meet your gaze. swallowing thickly, you shoved your hand in a box labeled CONFISCATED Ka-Kz and fished out the first object you grasped: a bloodied kazoo. wincing in embarrassment, you waved it in his face and grimaced.

“i'm just down here for this.”

“for a murder kazoo.” he deadpanned.

“…yes.”

you turned away and began heading for the door, but a strong palm wrapped around your wrist, halting your stride. fox tugged you back, and you tried to keep your drooling gaze to a minimum at how handsome he looked when he was searching for answers.

“if you tell me what you want from me, i'll let you go.”

“i don't want anything.”

“bullshit,” the agent rolled his eyes, “everyone wants something, agent, even you. you’re a bad liar, you know that? that’s why you’re not under deep cover.”

how little you know, you thought with a smirk. “well, not everyone is made for danger.”

“no. you’re just made for stalking.”

you seized up, “i am not stalking you!”

fox grinned, liking how worked up you were becoming. “then why are you always in the corner of my eye, agent?”

you huffed in desperation, weighing your options. you could,

a) keep lying.

b) tell fox the truth.

c) bang on the locked door and scream until someone saves you from spooky mulder.

none of your options were appealing, but you weren’t getting out of here if you didn’t choose. option A would drag it out, and option C would get him fired, so you only had one path if you wanted to control casualties and your level of embarrassment in one shot.

as he stood patiently waiting, tie so horrendously knotted that it took all your willpower not to tug him down by it, you gave in.

“well, agent mulder, you… you’re interesting.”

“am i?”

“y-yes. you do amazing work. you catch killers. and you… write beautifully.”

fox chuckled softly, “you like my writing? what, are you the one who files my field reports or something?”

now may not be a good time to admit you tweaked the computer system to always assign you files submitted by agents between L and P in the alphabet just to be the sole individual who received fox’s files, so you withheld the truth a bit. it will come back to bite you in the ass when he looks into the signatures on his official paperwork, but oh, well.

“every so often,” is what you settled on. “you have something to say, and you say it like you’ve been contemplating the proper phrasing forever. it’s always so eloquent and intelligent and… fascinating.” you stopped praising him, feeling shame wash over you like a bad shot of vodka.

“well, aren’t you a regular fan?” fox rested his head against the filing shelf, eyes raising to the ceiling. his neck stretched open far enough that you could watch his adam's apple bob as he spoke. “glad to know my conclusions aren’t just the ramblings of a lunatic.”

“quite the opposite, agent mulder.” you blushed.

fox looked back down to you, and his puppy dog eyes bore holes into your cheeks. “i know a lot about you, you know. i know where you went to high school. i know you also use the irish cream for your cup of joe every day. i know you drive that baby blue car out in the garage, with the stupid “honk if you love labs” bumper sticker. but what i don't know, agent, or rather what i can’t figure out, is why you’re working in the filing department when you should be on an analyst team, or why you’re so insistent on following me around work. so, can you enlighten me with the truth?”

the truth. even when encountering you, his true colors show. you would be frustrated if it wasn’t so attractive how he interrogated you.

with a shaky breath as support, you said, “i want to know you.”

“is that all? you just… want to know me?”

“we don't work together. you’re too off-limits. my orders require me to stick to the mundane and watch from afar. but you, agent mulder, you are never mundane. you sit down here every day and crane over horrific cases, imagining the unimaginable, and all in the stuffy confines of a basement office that people would rather die than visit you in. y-you’re terrifying, you’re… fresh air.”

fox would never admit to it, but his entire body experienced pins and needles at the sound of your voice. in the least creepy way possible, you reminded him of the school librarian from his childhood- thin glasses, a loose blouse, and a voice thick and sweet, just how he liked his coffee.

“well, as the resident spooky one around here, i'd say you’re more freakish than me. you’re quite the stalker.”

“that's my business.”

you put the kazoo back in the box, frustrated you even attempted to jeopardize the secrecy of your nature for being down in the basement. fox’s hazel eyes followed your lethal nails as they replaced the object, and he wondered if they hurt when they grazed skin. a part of him really wanted to find out.

the man huffed, “so that’s it? no plans to kill me, or turn me in to the boss for my beliefs?”

“nope. just… watching from a distance.”

“you could watch up close if you wanted to. i could really benefit from someone so smart as you are, and someone who has such a knack for detail,” he teased. “you seem to have a way with words yourself, agent.”

“well, i appreciate the offer, but my hands are full as it is, agent mulder.”

“call me fox.”

in a flustered blackout, you blurted, “but no one calls you fox!” and the agent’s pupils blew wide.

somehow, deep inside, the idea of you knowing his secrets without ever speaking to him turned him on. you were a watcher, and as a profiler he’d even go so far as to call you a creep- a girl with a case of muldermania following his every move and sniffing the air when he walked past. he saw it in how your hands shook before him, how you craned your neck back in submission, how your eyes darted between his eyes and lips with fervor; how you swallowed nothing every five seconds in what he couldn’t discern between fear and anticipation. you had slightly sick motivations, so driven by the feeling his writing gave you and the idea of what it must be like to be inside his mind. and he liked it. he liked being studied, and understood, and having no say in it being done by a pretty girl like you. the man took another step closer this time, and you didn’t budge. this was one of his personal space invasions he’s so famous for- the kind people complain about when they’re put on the job with him. also the kind you’d dreamt of since you learned of his existence beneath the bureau.

“but you do when you think of me, don’t you?” he crooned, knowing how to play you from one freak to another. “when you think of watching me when you’re alone, and how we might interact. you call me fox in that pretty little head of yours, right? so say it.”

“w-well…”

“come on, don’t leave me hanging.”

you licked your lips as the heat of his breath danced across your face, and you flushed. “a-as much as i'd love to stay and talk, i have my obligations. not everyone is at your whim, fox.”

in a hormonal lapse, fox let out a soft, “mmm,” and flashed his adorable grin for you to fuss over. “that's too bad, then.”

“but,” you interrupted, “if you ever need, um, proofreading… or help, i can- you can, uh, maybe leave me a note? or something?”

“on your desk? in the filing department, right? in that office with the blue walls and the photograph of you and your chocolate lab, the one who inspired your bumper sticker, agent?” fox revealed, showing his intellectual hand.

with a dry mouth, you mustered a meek, “yeah, that’s the one.”

“good. maybe i'll spray it with my cologne, so you can savor the moment.”

“excuse me?” you squeaked.

“come on, agent,” fox winked, “just a joke. unless you’d like that, y’know, i won’t judge.”

and of course you would. he smelled like dust and paper, with a little sugar left from the coffee he drinks, and a little smoke from the candles he lights when they turn the lights off on him overnight in that dark hole of an office.

“you live up to your name, spooky mulder,” you bit your lip.

“so do you,” fox agreed, “what would we do without our eyes and ears?”

“… what did you just say?” you could barely muster a voice.

“you heard me.”

fox slipped a hand in his suit pant pocket and revealed your business card- not the filing office one, but for your cover. you have no idea how he’d gotten one, because the only place you keep them is in the locked safe beneath your desk. you were in bold, with your full name, position, boss, and reserved extension line. you thought of fox breaking into your office at night- while you were at home having dreams you’d never admit to- and sifting through your belongings, touching all that was yours, cracking open your secrets. you shuddered as he placed the card gently in your hand, his fingers trailing against the veins at the center of your wrist, where he could feel your pulse hammering.

the man slid past you in a split second, heading for the evidence room door and jiggling the handle upwards. when it unlocked, he shot a premeditated glance towards your mortified face and said, “somebody ought to get this fixed. see you around, agent.”

just about shaking, you stood in the aisle, dizzy from the sound of his departure and how every word fell from his lips with such intention. after a moment of weakness in which you let yourself lean against the filing shelf and catch your breath, you straightened out your blazer and made for the door. when you came into the hallway, you saw spooky mulder standing in his doorframe, thumbing through a file with his silver-rimmed glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. you turned quickly towards the stairs and left him to his devices, those being the file that was full of pictures of you.

all this time admiring from afar made you feel like a fool. now you were stuck with a lingering conversation and the overwhelming urge to visit the archives again, because someone downstairs had his eye on you. he knew you by way of his own eyes and ears, and there are a few things that aren’t in your files he’d like to learn.

and to think you were the stalker!

#Spotify #spooky mulder #x files #fox mulder #dana scully #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder smut #fox mulder fluff #fox mulder x you #fox mulder x reader fluff #something between smut and fluff idk #obsessive love #stalker #msr fanfic #msr #sculder

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internet-sadass · 5 months

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Inappropriate Workplace Behaviour (Fox Mulder x female reader)

Blurb: The reason you're leaving Mulder's office looking flushed and dishevelled is because his office is 'stuffy' and needs better ventilation. Yeah, that's definitely the reason. Totally not because you just spent an hour with his head between your thighs.

Warnings: smut, oral sex (female receiving), office sex

A/N: I got a lady boner for Mulder. He’s so fucking pretty with his stupid pretty doe eyes and stupid fluffy brown hair grr. Anyways, I’m now obsessed with X-Files and there’s a chronic lack of good Mulder x reader smut so I wrote it myself because if you want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself. If Mulder is OOC, oops, I’m legit only on s1e5 but I’m already obsessed with him.

You rocked your hips against Mulder's tongue as he delved it between your puffy folds. Slick already coated his chin, evidence of your past two orgasms. He gripped onto your plush thighs, holding them apart so you wouldn't crush his head when he flicked his tongue over your swollen clit (not that he'd mind dying with his face buried in your cunt).

The pair of you had been at it for an hour, with Mulder barely letting you recover each time he made you cum onto his awaiting tongue. He was relentless, drawing his tongue along your slit, pressing into your core, sucking and circling your clit with the very tip of his tongue. You were surprised you hadn't torn any of his hair out with how hard you were griping it, using it as leverage to manoeuvre his head in whichever way gave you the most pleasure. Every time you forced Mulder’s head into a new position or pressed yourself down against his tongue, bucking against his face, you heard him moan to himself, clearly getting off on you using him like a sex toy.

You nearly toppled over when Mulder yanked one of your thighs over his shoulder, opening up your pussy to him so he could do more devious things to it. You planted your palms firmly on his desk, probably messing up whatever collection of paperwork and photocopies of evidence was there when you clenched your hands into fists as he ran his tongue through your folds again. He licked up your creamy arousal, savouring the tart and salty taste of it as it painted his lips like chapstick.

Drawing back from your sweet cunt for a moment, Mulder caught his breath, plugging your entrance up with his fingers so you wouldn’t start whining, scissoring them inside your silky insides. You let out a drawn-out groan when he curled his fingers inside you in a ‘come hither’ motion, pressing them against your most sensitive spot. He looked up at you, smirking and repeating the action to force you to make a similar sound.

"Lucky no one wants to come down here and visit spooky Mulder, else we’d have to be much subtler and quieter. Well, you’d have to be much quieter." Mulder said, still smirking as he rubbed your clit nonchalantly with his thumb. You whined, twitching about his fingers as he began to rub slow circles on your sensitive nub.

"E-exc - mmwah oh fuck, Fox! - except Scully. She’s always coming down here." You struggled even to get such a short statement out. It was too hard to focus on words and talking when your cunt was crammed with Mulder’s fingers and he was hell-bent on teasing your aching clit until you came yet again.

He chuckled at your comment, never stopping his assault on your oversensitive hole.

"Yeah, except Scully, so keep an ear out for her so she doesn't catch us, else we’ll never be able to live this down." He pulled his fingers out of you, sucking your essence off them, pulling them out of his mouth with a pop.

Settling his head between your thighs, Mulder started lapping at your cunt again, sliding his tongue in as far as he could before moving his attention to your clit. It took no time at all for you to cum once again, grinding so desperately and roughly against Mulder’s mouth and chin that you feared you’d give the poor man whiplash because of how harshly you were moving his head back and forth with your thrusts. You stilled, chest heaving as you panted like a dog, thighs trembling in the aftershock of your final orgasm that afternoon.

Mulder got up from the floor, casually brushing the bits of carpet fluff off his knees. He was a mess; his hair was sticking out in every direction, his chin was shiny with your spend, his tie loosened, and the top of his shirt unbuttoned. Grabbing his tie, you pulled him in for an appropriately messy kiss. You tasted your fluid on his lips and felt the solid press of his erection against your stomach. You moved your hand to stroke the tent in his trousers.

“Later.” Mulder breathed, breaking the kiss, looking at you with those pretty hazel eyes that made you forget about appropriate workplace behaviour and led you to spread your legs for him that afternoon. “We can play more later. But you and I both have work to do now.”

***

You nearly walked right into Scully as you left Mulder’s office. She gave you a polite smile, which melted off her face when she noticed your rosy complexion and smeared lipstick.

“Are you alright? You look a bit… dishevelled and flushed.” She asked.

You froze up for a second, trying to think of a convincing excuse for why you were flushed, dishevelled, and leaving Mulder’s office in such a state.

“Oh, uh, just a bit stuffy in Mulder’s office. Really need to sort out some better ventilation.” You mentally kicked yourself for coming up with such a lame and entirely unconvincing excuse.

Scully quirked an eyebrow, but you rushed off before she could ask more questions.

“Mulder, what’s this about your office being stuffy, I always thought it was cold down here-” Scully stared at Mulder, who was hurriedly re-arranging the papers on his desk. He also looked dishevelled, his tie slung low on his neck and his hair all over the place. He turned to face Scully, hastily wiping whatever liquid he had smeared around his mouth.

Although she had many questions, Scully kept them to herself. She’d already connected the dots and didn’t need Mulder or you to confirm her suspicions.

#fox mulder x reader #fox mulder x you #fox mulder x female reader #fox mulder #agent mulder #mulder x reader smut #fox mulder smut #agent mulder smut #the x files #x files fanfic

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thedancingcostumeyoungadult · 4 months

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Fox Mulder x Reader

Fem!reader x Fox Mulder

Contents: slightly suggestive, descriptions of first aid and minor injuries, established relationship, fluff

“Now don’t freak out.” That’s not a sentence you like hearing as your boyfriend gets back from a case, causing you to quickly throw your gaze over your shoulder to find him rounding the corner into the kitchen with a somewhat sheepish expression on his face.

“Oh, Fox.” You breathe softly, turning off the tap and setting your half-filled water bottle aside as he leans against the wall, shirtsleeves rolled to the elbows and hands in his pockets. His face is scuffed and bruised, a shadow darkening around his left eye and a painful looking scrape on his right cheek. You hurry to him, reaching up to his face with ginger hands, tilting his face to get a better look at the cut. He makes a face, one eye scrunching with a wry smile.

“What did I just say.” Though the words are chastising they carry no edge as you continue your assessment. “Some might say it’s an improvement, y’know, adds to the gruff FBI agent character- hey.” When you drop your hands to reach for the first aid kit his voice goes soft, pleading. His hand catches your wrist, gently but firmly drawing you back to him, aided by his other hand at the small of your back. Your hands instinctively go to his strong shoulders, steadying yourself as he brushes his nose against yours.

“I missed you.” God if you didn’t melt to the core every time he spoke to you like that, soft and gentle with those damned eyes glittering at you in the low light.

“Missed you too.” Your smile is audible in your whisper, your heart skipping steps as you feel yourself begin to grow shy, as silly as it was after two years of being with him. Heat rises in your cheeks as he lowers his lips to yours, your eyes falling closed as you kiss him for the first time in too long. Your fingers clutch the fabric of his shirt and you kiss him back with a fervor, all the pent up longing of the last week finally finding an outlet. His hand not holding you flush to him finds the back of your head, fingers spanning into your hair as he deepens the kiss, effectively stealing whatever breath was left in your lungs. You both let the kiss linger, basking in the quiet intimacy until you part softly, your heels lowering back to the ground as you blink your eyes open. Although you could happily stand and look at him for hours, the cut on his cheek draws your attention.

“Please let me look at that cut.” Fox smiles at you, conceding with a small nod. He lets you go with one last squeeze, reaching over your head to grab the first aid kit atop the fridge and sits down on the couch in the living room while you wash your hands. Drying them on a paper towel as you follow your partner into the other room, you find him leaned back, tie gone and shirt partially unbuttoned with his arms crossed over his chest and legs planted wide. His eyes rake up your figure as you approach, an appreciative smile ghosting across his face.

“Fox Mulder you keep your dirty mind to yourself.” You cut him off mid-inhale as he was about to speak, causing him to lift his hands in complaint even as you straddle his hips. He splutters indignantly as you get settled, popping the kit open and pulling out what you need. Big, warm hands land on your hips when you shut the case again and set it aside.

“You certainly didn’t have a problem with my dirty mind on the phone the other night.”

“Hush.” You try to ignore the blush in your cheeks, hoping the apartment is dark enough to hide it although you know by his smile it isn’t. Carefully, you angle his face slightly away so you can work, gently cleaning and disinfecting the wound. His eyes are relaxed and half closed, but they never leave you save for when you close the cut with a butterfly bandage, at which he flinches, eyes squeezing at the sting. Your heart clenches in response. It’s not uncommon for Fox to come home a little worse for wear, but its still always hard to see.

“Sorry.” You breathe, finishing quickly and tossing as much of the garbage as possible in the bin a few feet away, inevitably missing a few scraps.

“Leave it.” His hands are insistent in how they pull you in, stopping you as you go to clean it. “Please.” Need laces his every movement, his every breath and you let him move you, gathering you close and shifting enough to lay you back on the sofa. His weight settling on top of you feels like a relief, like something you’d been missing finally slotting back in to place as he buries his face against your neck. You love when he seeks comfort in you, love how he melds his body into yours. Eventually he’ll stir, carry you to bed, make up for lost time, but for now he just holds you in the dark and quiet.

#jeanie writes #fox mulder #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder fanfiction #fox mulder fluff #the x files #txf

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kendallroydefender · 1 year

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Shared beds and confessions (Mulder x fem!reader)

Summary: the young detective Y/n has to go on a work trip with her co-worker to investigate a x-file when they turn to a motel for the night they find out there’s only one bed available.

Wordcount: 2.5k

You opened the door to the passenger seat of Mulders car. "Where’s Scully?“ you asked noticing that the agent wasn’t in the vehicle "She needs to finish some work here she’s flying in tomorrow.“ Mulder told you as you fastened your seatbelt. "Didnt knew flying was an option here, why am I driving with you again?“ you quipped at him with a smile "Going on a roadtrip with your favorite co-worker what do you want more?“ He shrugged "Presumptious of you to assume you’re my favorite.“ you told him while getting something out of your back before dropping it in his hand. Mulder looked at the bag and recognized it instantly, a bag of sunflower seeds - his favorite brand. A smile ghosting his lips "Why thank you.“ he said a little surprised, ignoring the flutter near his heart he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The drive was actually fun. You and the male agent always got along and considered each other close friends. You started working alongside Scully and Mulder about six months ago and were close to both of them. But you had started to grow some feelings for Mulder. Working late into the night on some cases in the office that lead to chinese take-out dinners afterwards and long talks getting to know each other more. Unknown to you the male agent had also developed some feelings.

Mulder would drive the first three hours and then you would switch. The first hours went by smoothly and at noon he pulled into the parking lot of a diner. Mulder bought the food and looked at you with raised brows when you wanted to pay. "This is on me y/n.“ he said "But you paid the take out last time too.“ you answered, he shrugged before handing the money to a bored looking teenager. "And you paid the time before that., that’s how our deal here works so well“ he told you before saying thanks to the teen that handed him the food.

"No way that movie is totally unrealistic! Everyone knows aliens wouldn’t behave like that!“ Mulder exclaimed with his mouth full of food "Yeah well not everyone can be an alien expert.“ you answered him taking a bite of the burger you had just bought at some fast food restaurant at the highway. "An alien expert? y/l/n are you flirting with me?“ Mulder said and you rolled your eyes at the man "You wish.“ wich earned you a grin from him "Maybe.“ he shot back with a shrug.

When you returned to the car Mulder closed his eyes while you drove, humming along softly to the radio. A smile on his lips as he listened to your voice. He opened his eyes for a moment to look at you. The sun was setting and left you in golden light. Mulder thought about how fitting it was - golden like some kind of jewelry, something to admire, something beautiful.

The drive went on until you noticed how it got slowly harder to see anything on the road through the thick fog that had appeared. A few minutes later you luckily saw a sign indicating a hotel a few minutes away.

"Why are we stopping?“ The brunette man asked a little sleepy while rubbing his eyes. "It’s almost two and I can’t drive anymore and you can’t either also it’s really foggy.“ you said as you parked infront of a small hotel. "We will get there Mulder, we can start tomorrow morning but-" you started to reason with him but he shook his head "it’s okay y/l/n. It’s a great idea actually.“ he answered and let out a little yawn after. He looked adorable with his hair a bit tousled and blinking tiredly. Before you could stop yourself you found yourself fixing his hair. When his green eyes met yours you noticed what you were doing and retracted your hand, your face growing warm. You hurried to climb out of the car. Mulder sat looking after you.

Mulder held the door to the small motel open for you. It wasn’t bad at all, a little old and outdated but clean and not creepy. Behind the counter sat an elderly woman "Hello there! You two are so lucky!“ she said as she noticed the new arrivals "We only have one room left.“ she announced and you and Mulder exchanged a look, he pulled his eyebrows up and you gave a small nod. You didn’t wanted to drive anymore tonight and the prospect of a hot shower and a bed was like heaven even if you had to share with Mulder. But you would be a liar if you said there weren’t some butterflies erupting in your stomach right now. Because yes you had a crush on your colleague for some time now. "This must be our lucky day then.“ Mulder answered with a smirk. "Oh I’m glad that such a great couple is staying with us!“ she smiled at you. You and the agent glanced at each other for a second before Mulder smiled at her.

You gave the lady your information and she handed you the keys. "Have a good night you two!“ she wished. You walked towards the stairs and felt Mulders hand ghost over the small of your back. The room had a small table, two chairs and a bed. The bed was a double, big enough to hold two people but there wasn’t enough space to not be touching the other.

Mulder groaned as he laid down on top of the bed with his coat still on. "Okay I need to take a shower, is it okay or do you want first?“ you asked and he opened one eye "No, no go.“

The hot water had relaxed your tense muscles you had after driving for hours, you changed into an old oversized shirt you brought with you to sleep in. You opened the door to the small room wich was dimly lit and Mulder was still laying on the bed but he had taken off his coat and hung it over the back of one of the chairs. "How sleazy would it be of me to ask you if you would share the bed with me?“ Mulder asked and you pulled your eyebrows up "Did you really thought I would let you sleep on the floor?“ He shrugged "Come on Fox.“

He came back to the main room after he had also taken a shower and brushed his teeth. You already laid in bed and shuffled a bit to the left to make more room. Mulder laid down next to you and turned off the lamp beside his bed. You laid stiffly next to him for about five minutes before you heard him say your name you hummed as a sign for him to continue "Relax.“ he told you before his arm carefully wrapped over your waist "it’s just me.“ you let out a breath you didn’t knew you were holding and sunk a bit more into the bed. Closing your eyes and breathing evenly you laid your hand atop of his, that were resting on you. Mulder smiled to himself when he felt your hand on his bigger one. "Goodnight Fox.“ you whispered and he noticed the usage of his first name "Goodnight y/n.“ he said back his thumb gently moving over your hand.

You woke up a few hours later. You must have turned in your sleep because you were now laying on your other side, Mulder also turned and was on his back, with his arm around your shoulder and your head resting on his chest and leg resting over his. You could hear his heartbeat and feel his chest rise and fall under your head. You noticed how safe you felt like that but you were also aware how inappropriate it was to cuddle your co worker like this even if you were friends. So you carefully and slowly tried to free yourself from his arms. This didn’t worked because soon he stirred and mumbled "Just stay.“ with a voice laced with sleep. "You weren’t supposed to wake up Fox. This is already embarrassing enough.“ he opened his eyes and looked at you "Being close to me is embarrassing?“ he asked with raised eyebrows "No- no I mean embarrassing because I’m basically

"S‘alright.“ he said pulling you closer you huffed but laid your head back down on his chest. His scent and warmth enveloping you making your eyes tracing the features of his face being only illuminated by the moon and you couldn’t help but imagine how it would be if this was your life - falling asleep and waking up next to Fox every night. And that was all it took for you to feel overwhelmed. You pulled away from him "I’m sorry Fox I- I can’t.“ you sat up in the bed. "What do you mean?“ he asked you and you turned your head to look at him "This!“ you gestured between the two of you. "Hey im sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.“ he tried to apologize to you. "No- no, you haven’t and that’s part of the problem.“ you said and looked at your knees. "I can’t follow.“ Mulder offered back. "Let’s not talk about that right now okay? Just go back to sleep.“ He lifted his hand but before it could make contact with your back he halted, unsure if it would make you more uncomfortable. "Talk to me, please.“ he offered instead. You took a deep breath before saying "It’s just that I can’t keep my feelings down when we do stuff like this.“ you went silent after your confession. It was silent in the room for a few moments wich made your brain jump to the worst conclusions. That was it you ruined everything, Mulder wouldn’t want to be friends with you anymore.

Rustling of sheets could be heard as Mulder sat up, he cleared his throat before he spoke up "What if I don’t want you to burry these feelings?“ and it felt like your heart would simultaneously stop and explode. "You don’t mean that.“ you shook your head as you felt him look at you but you’ve stared at your lap. "Hey look at me please.“ Mulder said in a low tone, when you didn’t he softly moved a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered on your cheek for a second "Do you remember the time we met with the man that worked for this lab and said that I was delusional and should be fired for believing in the things I do?“ you nodded while still avoiding his eyes wondering where he was going with this story. "You told him to shut his mouth. To say politely… That’s when I knew- well I guess I knew before but that’s when I was sure that I had at least somebody on my side, someone who believed me.“ he told you and went quiet for a moment before continuing "Somebody that was there for me in many ways. Somebody I want to keep around. Somebody that I could spend forever with.“ and your eyes finally landed on his. "What?“ he nodded "In other words I have some feelings for you too.“ he said and you shook your head in disbelief. "Scully told me i was being obvious, said I was gazing at you.“ he admitted sheepishly you smiled "I had no idea. But she said the same thing to me.“ he smiled too. "Really? Come on you’re the only person I let call me Fox.“ he chuckled. He was right - no one else could call him by his first name except you. Your eyes met his and he looked between yours for a moment. His hand came up to softly Rest against your cheek before tucking you a little forwards. He stopped again waiting for you to do something. You swallowed before nodding a little.

His lips met yours in a kiss. It was careful at first just just testing the waters but after reality set in it became more firm. The kiss turned more passionate, held back emotions finally being set free. You laid your hand in his neck weaving your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as his hand rested on your waist pulling you closer. When you had to break the kiss to breathe you stayed close to each other. Faces only inches apart, your hand still playing with his hair while his thumb caressed your cheek and the other stayed on your hip. You opened your eyes to find him smiling at you and you couldn’t help but mirror his expression.

"Come on let’s go back to sleep.“ Mulder said softly after you parted. Laying back down, in the same position as before you cuddled up to each other. Your fingers traced patterns on his chest lazily and he pressed a kiss against your head.

The car came to a stop in front of the airport "How long do we have?“ Mulder asked, you looked at the clock "Her airplane lands in 5 minutes.“ you answered and looked at the man behind the steering wheel. A smile grew on his face "Good then I can do this.“ before he cupped your cheek and kissed you. The kiss was soft like the first one but this one was more playful, you could feel him smile into it. Before you could get too lost in it, in him, you gently pushed his chest. Eyes bright and shining looking at each other with so much affection. He leaned in to steal a quick kiss once again "Fox come on, as much as I’d like this to continue…“ he let out a long breath leaning his forehead onto your shoulder for a moment "I know, I know but as soon as I can I’m stealing you away.“ he promised wich made you giddy hoping for the evening to come as fast as possible. "I’m taking you up on that.“ you smiled back at the agent, pecking his lips once again before you got out of the car to wait for Scully. "God i feel like I’m 16 again.“ you muttered to yourself

"Hey Scully.“ you smiled and quickly hugged the woman. "Hey Y/l/n How are You?“. You climbed into the backseat and Mulder started driving to the crime scene. After a few minutes Scully kept looking at Mulder. He had a grin on his lips while he kept driving.

"Okay what’s up with you?“ Scully asked Mulder with a suspicious look "Nothing.“ he shrugged she narrowed her eyes "Then what’s up with this smile?“ he shrugged again but his green eyes flickered to the mirror for a moment and found yours. You couldn’t help but smile back at the man what made his smile grow even more so he covered his mouth with his hand. Scully, having seen the way he looked, turned around to find a similar expression on your face.

"Oh i think I just solved this mystery.“ she smiled at you.

#fox mulder x reader #fox mulder imagine #mulder x reader #mulder imagine

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