#fox mulder fluff

[luvfo00l]

Some of my favourite fox Mulder hcs

Pairings: Fox Mulder x F!FBI!reader

Warnings: these are SFW and NSFW, MDNI below the cut!

SFW

Fox’s love language is physical touch, anytime of the day, you could just be looking at a case at your desk, he would lean over from his desk to feel your hand.

Whenever you steal his glasses he blushes almost uncontrollably, he just thinks you’re so cute.

totally writes you love notes and letters, leaving them around your desk and when you two live together he leaves them around the apartment.

Mulder is a surprisingly protective lover, he’s the sort to put his arms around your waist if another man was ever looking at you, he’d kiss your neck too

You two on a case of some crazy X file and Mulder getting bored in the car and singing along to the radio.

Whenever you feel upset he doesn’t leave your side, like at all

Fox is a super romantic man, he could see you’re cold on a case in the middle of the night and give you his big trench coat that was significantly too big for you.

He absolutely adores when you do his makeup, there’s something about you practicing your makeup on him that he just really thinks your concentration is cute.

The first time Fox realised you had taken his heart was when you got sent to work with him on a case in the middle of nowhere Oregon when you were focused on reading, he just..fell for you.

NSFW

Fox Mulder is a switch. You cannot tell me otherwise.

He likes when you wear his glasses and ride him, it just makes him so hard.

He likes missionary and cowgirl.

He REALLY likes your ass in pencil skirts..

Mulder is a tits man, he just loves squishing them, putting his head on them and obviously putting his cock between them.

You two once had sex in a rental car on a case.

You wanna know why he always wears that long coat? To hide his damn boner when you bend over in a skirt or trousers.

Remember when I said physical touch is his love language, it has two meanings..

He LOVES when you leave hickeys on his neck, people in the FBI don’t really call him ‘spooky Mulder’ when they realise his ‘innocent’ little girlfriend gave him those hickeys.

He absolutely loves when you sit on his lap and when you grind on his lap he just loses it completely.

Sorry guys this is my first time ever writing for Mulder so I hope I did good :)

[postmodernbeliever]

little darling- fox mulder x female reader (SMUT OH MY GOD…)

fox mulder knows how badly you want to be touched, to be taken care of, and he is obsessed with being the first and only guy to do it.

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my ao3 | word count: 6,071

content tags: smut, smut so good in my brain it came out poetic?, loss of virginity, virginity kink, dom fox mulder, protective gentle extremely horny fox mulder, embarrassment, sexual fantasy, plus size reader gets sooooo much love, im blushing just posting this aaaaaaa, oh some religious bits bc catholic girls are freaky and also his sex is THAT good, cross-posted on ao3

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fox knew it was wrong, and he didn’t care. he knew how he thought about you, how he touched you in his mind, how he wanted to possess you was culpable- but then again, how shameful could it truly be? how bad was it to want to take care of you, to teach you the right way, to want to show you how good love is supposed to feel? well, maybe it wasn’t completely pure, because he nearly came untouched just thinking about you sometimes, but he just couldn’t help himself. he wanted to. he wanted to be the one you chose to give yourself to. the only one. 

it was always in the most mundane moments, like this one, that he needed it most, which played into his guilt. soft moments where you were unaware of what you were saying or doing, clueless as to how you were making him feel. now, as you sat watching the sex scene from basic instinct while fox pretended to be filling out a case file at his desk, was one of those moments. you squirmed in your seat with a sweet blush on your cheeks, watching the slight caricature of sharon stone on top of michael douglas, pupils blown wide and trying to hide your interest. fox was doing his best not to move a muscle, but he felt like a vein would pop if he didn’t turn around to look at you. his stomach was twisting itself into hot, trembling knots just wondering what the scene was doing to you. 

you’ve been dating him for a few months now, and upon meeting him, you fell in love in a way you still didn’t understand. he did, too. he idolizes you, he holds you up above everyone else to his detriment. after the first few dates, you told him that you wanted to take the physical aspects of the relationship slow because you had personal obstacles to overcome; he promised to do so, because when you look at him, his entire world glows, and he refused to jeopardize that heaven you unraveled. but he’s learned a lot about you since then simply through deduction. the few risqué movies you’ve watched with him proved through the surprise on your face that you hadn’t seen much video porn, let alone been touched; the books you tried to hide in your purse had absurd covers with the lustful silhouettes of cowboys and prairie girls, corporate bosses and assistants, big looming over small against some dark backdrop– all of it meaning that when you were alone, you fantasized. but the most telling was when fox himself touched you, albeit innocently. it was like you’d never been touched by anything before. when fox’s fingers ghosted over your knuckles as he held your hand, you’d giggle like a schoolgirl, hiding your face in your shoulder. even better, when he brought those same hands to the soft, warm apples of your cheeks, you’d shudder, melting into his touch like you’d lost your volition. it didn't matter how he did it- if his hands were on you in some capacity, your breath hitched in your throat like a fool. 

you wanted to let him touch you. there wasn’t a thing in the world you wanted more than to let him give you all of the things you’d dreamed, all of the things he must be aching to, but it was difficult for you. it seemed no amount of love was enough to break down your walls– you’d never let anyone that close. you’d always struggled with your body and your worth, and the little dating experience you’d had wasn’t much to boast about. you weren’t what people wanted, even if you were deserving. you knew fox was different, and that to him you weren't too big or not pretty enough, but you had just about every anxiety about physical affection. he had no idea you were a virgin on top of it all, which only made the pressure greater. you just couldn’t get over the fear. but you yearned to have it, so much so that even the smallest instances set your body aflame. you had the most lewd things running through your head when fox did just about anything. once you watched the man reach for the cereal box on the top shelf in his kitchen, and his sleep shirt rode up to reveal the dark happy trail that disappeared down his pants, and you felt so dizzy you could’ve dropped dead. and whenever he was close, it was unbearable. you replayed the sensation of his strong, lean hands resting protectively over your hip at his friend’s house. you thought about the way his lips felt on your forehead so often you could’ve written a book based solely on the texture. it drove you insane, the way you wanted him, and you drove yourself insane every time you didn’t act on it. but what did you know of hands, of mouths, of letting someone see what you shroud in fabric every day? what did you know of making him feel good, too, of being worth the wait for him?

now, as you curled up on his couch, you watched michael douglas’ hand grip sharon stone’s leg. it was big, but not big like fox’s. you imagined it was your boyfriend on the television, dark and brooding, as you saw how the man dove between the blonde’s legs, starving; her back arched, propelling her hips forward into his face, and she let out a soft moan. in your head, you saw yourself on that bed, and fox as hungry. you squeezed your thighs together and gathered the blanket draped across your legs in your palms, trying not to look as overwhelmed as you felt. but the agent who listened to the heavy breathing on screen saw exactly what was happening to you. he saw the blood rushing to the tips of your ears, tinting them the color of your bitten lips; he saw the way you shifted rhythmically beneath the blanket, almost undetectable, but absolutely undeniable. fox looked up at the ceiling as if to thank the god he didn’t believe in for playing basic instinct on cable, and he stood up from the desk, stalking over to sit beside you on the couch. as his body made the cushions dip, you smiled nervously. through a cracking voice, you said, “i didn’t know this movie was all… y’know.”

‘oh, yeah, it’s pretty heavy,” fox nodded, attempting his best unassuming expression. “still good, though, huh?”

“i mean, sure,”

“yeah, i think so, too.”

fox sighed just a tad too loudly and let his hand fall on your thigh. nothing but the blanket was between his palm and your skin. you looked to him with a pleading pair of eyes, though you didn’t really know what you were pleading for. the moaning from the television got louder, and you felt so warm, and his hand wasn’t going anywhere. you had no idea what to do. fox grinned at you and let his head tilt back over the couch as he swallowed thickly. you stared at the curve of his stately neck, how his adam’s apple bobbed, and every inch of your body pined in his wake. fox gazed at you, lounged wide like a lion, and his hand slowly traveled up your thigh to the crease of your hip. he slid his fingers across the soft crevice, and you were still at a statue, stuck between craving the friction and terrified to feel it. 

“can i ask you something personal?” fox’s voice was gentle. husky.

“...mhm.”

“has anyone ever, uh,” you followed his gaze to the tv, where michael douglas was doing things that made your hands sweat. “have you ever done it like that?”

you prayed that a black hole would open up in the floor and suck you in, so you never had to admit the truth. but his hand was still in that soft spot, and his minty eyes were made of looking glass, and the image of him that fucked your mind was so boggling you were on the edge of giving up. 

“just out of curiosity,” he added, lips curling into a cheshire smile.

you ran a hand across your burning cheeks and murmured, “uh, no. no, i haven't.”

“it’s interesting, y’know, how they can make it look so real,” fox pursed his lips, pushing his hand back down your thigh to rest on your knee. 

before you could bite your tongue, you confided, “i wouldn’t really know.”

fox’s hand paused at the crest of your kneecap, a chill running down his body. he thought of you, his pretty, quiet, gentle girl, and he never once stopped to think why you were so reserved. he always blamed the little silver cross that hung from your neck and some guy from your past, but he neglected other options. but now, his mouth watered. 

“really?”

you tugged the blanket up to your face. “is that a bad thing?”

the man turned to face you, pulling your hands away to reveal the flushed face beneath. you were breathing so heavily. a need rattled his bones, one he wished he could stifle. pictures flashed in his brain- you, writhing beneath him, the feeling so new, making pretty faces as he did what the people in movies do. him, defiling you, ruining the girl you’ve been, clutching to your cross as your mouth bled with his name. maybe he was a monster, but his cock twitched in his dress pants at the humiliated expression you bore.

“no, baby, of course not!” he chuckled, “no, that’s– that’s a good thing.”

“but i-”

“everyone does things at their own pace,” 

“but…”

“but what, sweetheart? i don’t expect anything from you.” fox sweetly lied. he wouldn’t force it, but he wanted it. badly. 

“i just wish that, uh, that i had by now. sometimes. i guess.” 

your eyes darted between the television screen and the way his nimble fingers encased both of your wrists. it only took one hand for him to hold you down… what a career he could make with his other hand free. 

“have you ever tried?” 

“...no.”

“do you want to?”

you let out a nervous hum. something came over you like it always does, and you leaned over to hide in his shoulder; in a way, that was better than letting him see your face. his hand rested at the nape of your neck as he cooed, “awh, baby, it’s okay.”

“it’s not really okay,” you mumbled into his shirt. “it’s embarrassing.”

“i don’t think it is. i think it’s cute.”

you felt his hand run down your back, and you pushed yourself a little closer, so you could rest against his neck. fox kept talking since you were at a loss. 

“nothing embarrassing about that, i promise. truthfully, you’re better off. so many guys out there just wanna take advantage, y’know?” he reasoned, tracing little things at the small of your back, fingertips like pens. “probably would’ve wished you didn’t, because you’re so hard on yourself… i would hate to know you lost your virginity to some guy who didn’t care about you. not the way i do.”

the heat of your breath against his neck was maddening. everything about you was maddening. how you curled into him for protection, for reassurance, how your palms tugged at the wrinkled cotton of his work shirt because you didn’t know where to put them. the little nods of agreement you made with every opinion he voiced. he wanted to knock you on your back and fuck you right there, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t spring it on you. you had to want it, you had to let him. and he knew you wanted to let him because it was all over you. 

he asked again, “baby, do you want to?”

he raised his wandering hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, and you felt this urge inside you, an indulgence just begging to be released. acting selfishly, you pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, and beneath your lips, you felt the vibration of a little growl. fox tangled his palm in your hair, and as gently as he could, he pulled your head back so you had no choice but to look at him. 

“is that a yes?”

your stomach churned. “yes.”

“good. come on.”

fox rose from the couch and tugged you up with him. he watched the blanket fall from your legs to see that your sleep shorts had ridden up and tucked themselves in the chub of where your thighs and legs met, that sacred spot he’d touched before, and he rolled his eyes in ardor. with your shaky hand in his, the man led you into his bedroom, where he motioned for you to sit at the edge of the bed. 

“fox, i…”

“what, love?”

“i… i don’t know.”

you watched him walk over to his closet and open the doors, revealing the shuffled-around mess inside. with his back turned to you, you saw his hands disappear to unbutton the dress shirt that crumpled on his shoulders from a day’s work. as he pulled it over his head, the spotless skin of his sculpted back smiled at you. your hips were warm. 

“you’re nervous,” he said, still facing away as he threw the shirt into the basket. “i know you are. but it’s not so scary. plus, you’re with me. i’m nice, aren’t i?” “you’re very nice,” you smiled, “but you’ve done this before. you… you know so much more than i do.”

“are you sure?” fox’s laugh rumbled low in his throat, “because i’ve seen the books you read. bet you’ve got all kinds of ideas i’ve never even tried before.”

you shifted on the bed, tucking your legs into a crisscross. “w-well, that’s different!”

“no, it’s not!” the man teased, shaking his head like you were hopeless. he crossed the room, back to you, where he stood like a pillar before the bed. when you didn’t meet his gaze, he tucked his finger beneath your chin and made you. “you’ve been thinking about it for so long, haven’t you, sweetheart? about me? must be so lonely, just thinking, never doing.” 

he passed his thumb over your trembling chin, admiring your starry eyes, how they reflected so much love. you were so pretty, a pretty he couldn’t have imagined if he’d seen all the most beautiful women in the world. none of them could hold a candle to his girl. “you’re so smart, so good at handling things when they’re hard. but you never let anyone handle you, do you? not even me, baby, and i could be so good at it.”

you couldn’t control how you let him sway you. you gave yourself over, basking in the rush. he settled on his knees, so you had to look down, and he pressed his hands to where your love handles dipped, passing the skin over in his hands. 

“i’ve wanted to let you,” you sighed, “i’ve… thought about it.”

fox’s eyes, eager as a puppy’s, looked up at you as he asked, “well, when we’re in your head, where do i start?”

you shivered. “you kiss me first.”

the man decided that you deserved to have your fantasies fulfilled; if in your pretty mind you’d dreamed up a routine, then he’d follow it, and he’d prove to you that nothing was as good as the real deal. he pushed up on his knees and leaned in, thankful for his low-set bed, as he pressed his lips against yours. you disassembled against his touch; he moved with a cadence that had your head spinning, fingers behind your ears, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. you’d kissed him plenty, but never like this. never so messy, so desperate. he tasted warm, and kind, sunshine in a mouth. you let out a soft whimper as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth.

“i think you’re a bad girl in that head of yours, angel,” he mumbled into your mouth. “what do i do next up there?”

you were too afraid to say it, and you didn’t want to pull away from his lips, so instead you reached for the wrist that held his hand to your face. fox’s throat tightened as you guided his hand down to your stomach, a place you didn’t let him touch often. 

“so pretty, baby,” he admired, knowing exactly what it is you needed from him. he paraded his kisses down to your neck, where he got so much sloppier. he licked a stripe over your throat, nipping at the soft skin of your jaw, and he passed the chub of you over in his devastating hands. you keeled forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder, and he littered your ear with little pecks. “so soft. i love your tummy, y’know. how it looks when you wear those pretty dresses, and how when you wear my shirts i can see the shape. fuckin’ adorable, you have no idea. prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“fox,” you whined. he was barely even touching you, but the weight of his words anchored your lungs to the floor. 

he took a little liberty and leaned down to tug your shirt up, and began brushing his lips over you, spit for paint. you let your hands wander to his hair, and your stomach flipped at the noises he made. 

“now what, sweetheart?”

“y-you… agh,”

fox pulled away, and you swooned at the sight of his pretty lips already swollen. “forgettin’ already?”

“well…” you trailed off, feeling a mental fog roll in.

fox stood up and pushed at your shoulders, tilting you back onto his bed. laying down, he had more access to pushing your shirt up and seeing you for real. he sucked at his teeth, handsome face overtaken with want; you curved like a muse beneath him, and he wondered why you hid all this body beneath clothes. you felt his hands like a compass, mapping the cascading mountain ranges and slow, dipping valleys of your hips and thighs, as if his whole world was discovering you, as if his purpose existed within the endless confines of your flesh and bones. and his hands roamed freely, nomadically, through your land, committing every road that made you shiver to memory. 

“where do you touch yourself, princess?” fox smiled. you whined, and he clicked his tongue. “come on, show me.”

your hand shook, but you rested it over your shorts, and you curled your fingers in to prove you knew how. 

“good girl. bet you know just what to do, huh?”

“mhm,”

“but your fingers aren’t enough, are they?” fox pouted playfully as he hooked his thumbs beneath the elastic band squeezing your waist. 

“no,” you wheezed, “never.”

“fuck. you sound so pretty when you need me. let me see you.”

trying to stop himself from rushing, the man clambered on top of you and grabbed you by the back of your knees, pushing you up the bed a bit. when your head hit pillows, he tucked them behind you, and he crawled back down to your legs with a mission. gently, he tugged your shorts down, and beneath were little black boyshorts that cut into the skin of your thighs. he looked about as starving as michael douglas as he flattened his palms against your hips, adoring the sight. 

“y’know, most girls hide lacy things,” he teased, “i like this so much better.”

breathlessly, you said, “lace is itchy.”

“god, you’re just dying for it, aren’t you?”

you pushed up into his palms and whispered, “please.”

“please what?”

“do it,” you heaved, “i need it, fox.”

he didn’t need to be told again. he slid your panties down in one sweep and practically drooled over what you had kept from him all this time. he could’ve cried. this must be what people felt when they saw the mona lisa for the first time, or had a prayer answered. this was his very own da vinci original. this was god’s divinity trapped in your lower half. you were an irritated pink, your pussy plump as the rest of you; as he pushed your thighs wide, he found a sheen already coating your skin. “fuck, sweetheart, is this from the movie or me?”

“y-you.” you kicked yourself for all your stammering, but the glow of his cheeks soothed the embarrassment. 

“oh, yeah?”

you didn’t know how easy it would be to let yourself be touched before you just tried it. here, with the one man who might be the direct work on god on earth, you wanted to spill every secret now that you knew something of hands. your heart beat against your ribcage relentlessly as you admitted, “was imagining it was you on tv, fox, you and me,”

“jesus christ,” fox grunted, eyes dirty and dark. “i can fuck you better than he ever could.”

fox pressed his thumb to the bundle of nerves that throbbed between your legs, and just the pressure alone drew a dangerous moan from the back of your throat. he relished in the sound as he began to circle his finger, leaning down to kiss the searing skin. you rolled your hips against his touch, begging for more friction, and he wordlessly rewarded you with a new motion, one that needed two fingers for rubbing. you grabbed at his forearm as it came into reach, and he felt like he could explode from how you tugged at him. you held onto his arm like it was a lifeline. any other girl would’ve grabbed the bedsheets or touched her body, but your inexperience meant you were acting on instinct, and that quite possibly was the best thing he’d ever seen. watching you feel so good for the first time in your life had him panting like a dog. you were all his now, his pretty girl under his spell. an angel who knew only one name. 

“good, baby?”

“mm-nngh,” was all you had to say. 

“what a pretty girl.”

“fox…”

“good girl. only i can make you feel like this, right? not those guys in your books, none of those movies. just me, my hands, baby, my mouth,”

you used your grip on his arm to try and get him to go faster, but he refused. he wriggled free from your grasp and left a ghostly kiss on your stomach, tutting, “oh, no, angel. i’m gonna make this last. want you out of your mind when i’m done.”

you’ve felt powerless all your life, and you do even now, but this is the first time you’ve ever needed more. you were engrossed in being taken. you’d been too afraid to pray for this because you weren’t sure how the man upstairs would feel about you breaking his technical rules, but you had to have yearned to let fox take your virginity every night since you met him. you knew he’s done this before, but you didn’t know he was so gifted; but even he could tell you that it wasn’t so much his experience as it was how he wanted to ruin every other guy for you. and how could you want another when his hand– that which wrapped around the neck of a pistol, that which choked the air of men’s throats– circled your clit so gently, working a new kind of love into you that you never thought imaginable?

“been dreaming about this, y’know,” fox drawled, leaving stinging kisses on your waist. “been thinking about how our first time would go. and you’re doing so good, you’re taking it so well right now.”

you couldn’t speak. every word got caught in your chest. so instead you tugged at his hair, trying to get him to kiss you. he giggled, hovering over you and slowing his fingers so he could give you what you wanted. you moaned into his mouth, lips gnashing against his teeth in your eagerness, and just when you felt like you were starting to have some control, you felt two of his fingers push between your folds. they went so much deeper than you’ve ever gotten your own, and as he curled them inside you, your entire body shook. gasping against his cheek, you exhaled, “oh my god,”

“be careful, baby, you don’t want him to hear you,” fox warned, voice thick with lust. 

you grabbed at his chest, fingers running through the little curling hairs that grew in a thicket over his heart, and you felt it beating, keeping time with his hand. you wondered if sex felt like this for everyone the first time around, but then again, how could it? unless fox was there for them all, they could never have had it this good. 

“you’re so pretty,” fox cooed, “so pretty on my fingers. d’you feel pretty, baby?”

“mmm,”

“tell me you feel pretty,”

“i- i feel pretty.”

“mhm. what about me, love, you think i’m pretty, too? my hands feel pretty?”

“fuck,” you squeaked, “fox!”

“i know you do. say it.”

“you’re so pretty,” you droned, trying to catch his lips in a kiss, but he rerouted to your neck. 

you ground into his palm over and over again, and he felt you burning up on his fingertips, contracting, squeezing, shaking. he moaned into your shoulder, “do you wanna cum, baby?”

your hands scratched at his arms, and to his surprise, you shook your head violently. “not yet,”

“really?”

“mm-mm. not… not time yet.”

fox’s pupils swallowed the green of his eyes. the man licked his lips and slowed to a stop, letting his fingers rest inside of you, and he asked, “what comes next, then?”

even in a position so lewd as this one, you were too embarrassed to explain. so you reached up to his mouth, swiping your thumb across his slick bottom lip, and with pretty little doe eyes, you popped your finger into his mouth. you watched as he wrapped his lips around it, swirling his tongue over the salty taste of your skin, and you whispered, “i need you.”

fox pulled off your finger with a pop. “how?” 

he followed your lidded gaze as it traveled down to the bulge in his pants, and he nearly passed out. 

“you sure you’re ready for that?” his eyebrows knit together in true concern, but he knew he was the one who had to answer the question, too. he wanted to do right by you– you couldn’t regret this, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you did. “i can wait, you know. this is about you.”

“no. i’m ready,”

“positive?”

“mhm,” you sighed, “just… don’t hurt me.”

the man above you melted like putty, and the hunger he’d touched you with went soft. you saw that toothy grin again, the one that gave you butterflies, and he promised, “i’d never hurt you, angel.”

the scruff of his jaw even tinted a lovesick pink as he kissed you. your fingers scratched at the back of his ears like you would a dog’s, and you confessed between breaths, “i love you, foxie.”

his hands flew to his waist and he rushed to undo his belt and shimmy the slacks down. he wanted to scream, he wanted to stand at the edge of the world and tell every soul about the way you coated his entire existence in sugar, but right now, it was just you. he was alone with his girl, and if he couldn’t tell the world, he could at least make you sick of hearing it. 

“i’m so fuckin’ in love with you,” he swore, marking your face with invisible prints of his mouth. “i’m all yours, princess.”

“oh, god,” you groaned, watching how he spilled out of his boxers with glazed eyes. you had no idea where he was hiding all that. you felt a little dorky for the surprise, but who could blame you?

fox was too far to reign in. he grabbed your wrists and pulled you up, and he made you scoot up against his headboard; you pressed your back against the cold wood, and you yelped as he raised you in the air, pinning you to the wall. 

“fox, i-”

“you’re not too heavy,” he stopped you, knowing what you were going to say. “you’re perfect.”

you couldn’t complain- truthfully, you didn’t even get the chance to think about it, because he was all over you. with one hand holding you up by the leg, and the other gripping the headboard with white knuckles, he pushed himself between your legs, and you knocked your head into the wall at the way he stuffed you. 

“fuck, fox!”

it didn’t hurt, but god, was he big. pinned to the wall like this, you had no bearings. he had you suspended, stapled down by his sheer strength;  you never thought you could be fucked like this, some little ragdoll he could throw around, but clearly you underestimated how much he could handle. you felt the wind leaving your lungs as he pulled out and snapped back in, pelvis rolling hard against your swollen clit. he moved like a wave crashing down, managing to soak every part of you with his skin.

“fuck, sweetheart, so much better than i imagined,” he croaked, “feels okay, right?”

“s-so… so big…”

“oh, baby, i know,” he babied, leaving pinprick kisses on your jaw. “you can take it, pretty girl.”

his big hand tangled itself in the hair at the base of your neck as he fucked you into the creaking headboard. you were an endless machine of moans and profanities, head lolling, trying to keep your eyes open to watch the way his lips parted at the feeling of you encircling him. he tugged at your hair, and a guttural groan escaped your lips. 

“always wanted to get fucked like this, huh, baby? you’re such a good girl, you deserve it,”

“fox, please,”

“such a pretty girl,” he moaned, “jesus, you sure you’ve never done this before?”

as you bucked your hips against his swelling length, you offered a drunken grin. “only in my… dreams.”

“oh my god. you’ve got no idea how hot you are.”

he was everywhere, he was heaven, he was the pounding in your head as you collapsed against his body, letting him use you like a toy. you scratched at his shoulders, mouth all over his sizzling skin, and he flooded your ears with pretty praises. you hoped to god that by the time he was done you’d have the print of his hands tattooed on your hips, or that he’d never be done and you could float on by in this bliss forever. but his hips were thrusting hard, and falling out of time, and you felt your tummy squeezing like it was running out of air. he drowned in you, mouth full of dirty whines and strings of i love yous, and you knew you couldn’t hold back.

“f-fox… oh- oh god…”

“gonna cum for me, princess?”

“i… i’ve never…”

the feeling in your stomach was foreign and hot, and it was backing up all the functions of your brain. all you felt was fox between your legs, terrorizing this little spot that short-circuited all your nerves, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, trapping his mouth with yours– and when he hit it one last time, with eyes rolling back, and you let everything go. fox felt the warmth of you spilling over him, and the silent scream you let out had him unraveling in seconds. his hands were all over your face, fingers on your teeth as he came inside you, feeling himself mixing with you, and nearly bursting again just knowing he was. 

“oh, baby,” he fussed, “good girl, atta girl!”

pulling out slowly, so you didn’t feel too shocked, he slid you down the headboard softly and helped prop you up against the pillows again. you couldn't see straight, and everything twinkled, but you did catch a glimpse of him sneaking back down the bed. the man admired the mess he left behind. the smallest dribble spilled out of you, and all of a sudden he was lapping it up with his tongue, thirsty as a castaway. your entire body buzzed with overstimulation, and in what felt like screams but only came out strangled, you exclaimed, “fuck, oh my god!”

his tongue split you open, collecting all the juices between your hips and smearing the inside of your thighs, the pretty little mound of your pussy, making you shimmer like an angel. he sucked, and he swirled, and he dug his tongue between your folds like a freak, and you grabbed at his sweaty hair, so full of him you wanted to thank your angels for sending you someone so perfect.

“come on, i know you’ve got more,” fox coaxed, “one more, baby, one more.”

black spots crossed your line of vision as you watched his face disappear in your legs, and the tidal wave rose again, drowning you in a feeling that had you bucking against his tongue like a rogue horse. you’d never been able to make yourself cum, but all it took was fox mulder to pull two loads right out of you. you felt disgusting, you felt drunk, you felt so good you could’ve died this way. you didn’t ever want to leave the bed. fox made his way back up, heaving, and he kissed you with milky lips. you tasted yourself on his tongue, and you needed his palms to pin your hips down as you trembled, stuck on your high. 

“good girl, didn’t that feel good?” kiss. “you did so good, baby,” kiss, “so good for me,” kiss, “m’so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“mm… agh,” 

“i know, love, take a deep breath.” you felt his hand press against your warm tummy, and he told you again, “take a deep breath for me.”

you smiled, trapped beneath him, and you breathed like he wanted you to. anything he wanted, for the rest of his life, he would get. through fuzzy vision, you saw his glittery eyes, the grecian curve of his face, the little white strip of teeth behind his handsome smile, and you felt so in love you didn’t know what to do with yourself. he started to blush under your gaze, so he laid down on top of you, resting his head on your chest to listen to your racing heartbeat. 

“foxie,” you whispered.

“hm?”

“m’not a virgin anymore,” you giggled, the joy bubbling out of you. 

his warm laugh echoed in your ribs. “not anymore.”

“all yours now,” you swooned, “are you happy?”

you felt his hand slither behind your back, and he scratched at your spine, making you squeal at the ticklish feeling. then he attacked your neck and shoulders, mercilessly going after all the spots he knows are most sensitive until you lost your breath again from his innocent touch. “stupid question!”

“ah!– fox– agh, stop!” you swatted at his hands, a blissful wreck.

“‘course i’m happy,” he chuckled as he relented. “are you?”

in a huff, you rested your spinning head on his pillows and blushed. “mhm. very.”

“worth the wait?”

“definitely. thank you.”

“my pleasure,” he teased, flopping down beside you and lacing his fingers with yours. and when a comfortable silence fell, he couldn’t help himself: “you know i’m never gonna stop thinking about this, right? i’m ruined for life.”

“shut up,” you laughed. 

“no, seriously. get ready for a life of me drooling over you doing absolutely nothing.”

“i’d like that life, i think.”

you curled up in his side, and he drew you close, letting you hide in the crook of his neck the same way you did in what felt like a lifetime ago on his couch. there was still a little devil on his shoulder, applauding him for taking a piece of you that no one else could have now, but more than anything, his heart ebbed and flowed in his chest, blossoming each time he looked down at your pretty face. he meant it when he said he was ruined. you ruined everything by letting him fall in love with you, and he has never felt so lucky. 

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

inspired by this ask ;)

[muldermuse]

Fox Mulder Masterlist

Fox Mulder X Reader: One Shots

Peanuts

You meet an interesting stranger at a bar

First Date

Your first date with Fox

Halloween Party

Your boyfriend, Fox Mulder, convinces you not to go to your work Halloween Party

The Best Medicine

Fox takes care of you when you are ill

Jealous Fox

Fox gets jealous when he sees a coworker flirt with you

Houseplants

Fox helps you move into your first apartment

A Hard Day

Fox helps you through a bad mental health day

The Name Game 

You and Fox struggle to decide a name for your kitten

The Most Haunted Forest in South Carolina

Fox invites you camping 

Jealously, Jealousy

Fox doesn’t like how interested Alex Krycek is in you

Okay is not enough (Part 1)

Your family are being held captive by one of Fox’s previous encounters

Fox Mulder X Reader: Headcanons

Protective Fox Mulder

Fox has a crush on his coworker

Subtle ways Fox shows he has a crush

How Fox acts around Reader

Reader gets jealous of Fox’s new coworker

NSFW version of above^^^

NSFW Fox thoughts

Fox misses you

Reader’s birthday

Your cat loves Fox

Fox cheers you up

Forgetful mornings with Fox

Fox misses you after a trip (some nsfw)

Fox loves lingerie (some nsfw)

Dad!Fox Mulder

Dad!Fox Mulder 2

Modern Fox Mulder

Fox is a Buzzfeed Unsolved fan

Halloweeny Fox Thoughts 1, 2 and 3

Muldermuse October Writing Fest

Spooky Pyjamas (Dad!Fox Mulder x Reader)

A new family tradition is started

A Halloween Announcement (Fox Mulder X Reader)

As title states...it’s a halloween announcement

Trick ‘r Treat (Fox Mulder X Reader)

Fancy dress SMUT

Halloween Party (Cat Dad!Fox Mulder X Reader)

Fox has a party with your cat

Haunted House (Dad!Fox Mulder X Reader)

You come home from work to a haunted house

Halloween Card (Dad!Fox Mulder X Reader)

Fox receives a special card from his family

Ghosts (Modern! Fox Mulder X Reader)

A drabble about doing a ghost walk with Fox

Fox is creative (Modern! Fox Mulder X Reader)

Fox loves Halloween recipes

Ghost Hunting (Fox Mulder X Reader)

A hc about ghost hunting with Fox

[malfoys-demigod]

"I love you" from friends to lovers - Fox Mulder x Reader

A/N: I've started loving the X-Files a few days ago, and I instantly fell in love with Fox Mulder. I've always wanted to do a friends to lovers fic with him ever since! Shout out to @muldermuse as they are my inspiration to write for Fox. They have the best fics ever so check their blog out as well and do ask for fic requests from her since she does the best! I hope you love this one, friend!

Summary: using "I love you" long before it gets a romantic meaning (being shocked when they realize one day that they actually express their new feelings aloud already)

“Hey Fox, be safe out there, m’kay? Just because I’m sitting this case out does not give you permission to go batshit crazy!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mulder says before leaving you in his office, “Bye, love ya,” he says, waving goodbye to you as he and Scully were off to do another case while you stayed back, filing a report on the last and most recent case the three of you had done that week. 

You and Fox go way back, first meeting him at the FBI Academy when you were both learning how to become one of the best agents in the bureau. You guys were more than best friends, it was as if you were thicker than thieves. But of course, at first, it was purely platonic, so platonic, that saying “I love you” was more of a friendly and best friend-kind of manner. 

Every morning, you’d arrive at his office, bringing cups of coffee for you, Scully, and Mulder to start your day right. 

Sometimes Mulder would have sleepless nights the night before, due to either not being able to solve whatever theories he had running in his mind or simply because he just couldn’t get himself to sleep. 

So whenever you’d come in bringing coffee for helpless mornings, he’d take the cup from you with a warm smile, thanking you for being his hero. 

“God, I love you,” he would say without feeling anything romantic to it

“Couldn’t sleep last night, huh,” you figured, to which he nodded and went back to reading his book on supernatural creatures 

When Dana came into the picture, she found it weird at first when she first heard the two of you exchange your famous, AND, platonic line. 

The three of you were ending your first case together as a trio. 

Dana in the backseat, Mulder driving, and you sitting shotgun. 

It was a triumphant success, having three brains work together efficiently on a case. Mulder was driving the two of you back to the office that day, with a smile on his face. His smile only got wider when one of his favorite songs started playing on the radio. 

“Now, that’s my jam,” he confidently stated, turning up the volume. 

You weren’t really fond of the song, it wasn’t really your type or vibe at the moment, and you looked at Mulder with disgust on your face. 

“Really, Fox?” you questioned his taste 

He looked at you with slight confusion, “You don’t like this?” He then turned up the radio, creeping in a smirk when he started headbanging like a boy listening to his favorite song for the thousandth time. 

Annoyed by the boyish friend you had, your fingers started making their way to the radio. About to press a button, Mulder smacked your fingers lightly, shaking his head with disapproval, “Uh-huh, you are NOT doing that,” he calmly said. 

“I’m starting to hate this song because of you!” you protested. You aggressively pressed a button, changing the radio station to another one, which coincidentally was starting to play your favorite song. 

“Now that’s MY jam,” you teased, imitating his headbanging 

Mulder let off a light scoff, shaking his head again, “You are a child,” he stated 

You chuckled, turning up the volume, “Yeah, and we’re staying on this station from now on, okay?”

“Fine,” he gave up, rolling his eyes.

“Aw, love you,” you thanked your best friend,  continuing to headbang to the song. 

Dana silently witnessed what was to her, deemed too adorable for just friends to create with this kind of interaction. She had also witnessed the first time she saw a hint of pink coming from Mulder’s cheeks, right after he had taken a look at you headbanging like a silly girl who got her way with things, and she had also witnessed the way you looked at him and looked away, trying not to smile too big in a span of 10 seconds. 

Now back to the present time.

Right after Mulder and Scully left you in his office, Scully just had to ask the question that she had been wanting to ask ever since that car ride. 

“Have you ever considered dating her?”

“Who? Y/N?” 

“Yeah, you guys always act like an old married couple and you can’t tell me the “I love yous” are just platonic till now”

“I-I don’t know,” Mulder replied, starting to stutter, “I mean she’s my closest friend and I mean I guess we just say silly things out loud without thinking it could have meant something else, you know?” 

The two of them stayed quiet as they were on their way to leave the building. 

A few minutes later, while in the car, Mulder opened up the conversation again. 

“I do like her actually,” he confessed, “I mean, we work so well together as friends, but I don’t know, maybe I’ll end up embarrassing myself in the long run if I changed things between us. I can’t, Scully, it’d be the end for us.” 

“Mulder, you’re both oblivious to the fact that without a doubt, you both probably imagined yourselves being more than just friends,” Scully acknowledged, “I’ve had a feeling ever since!”

Mulder narrowed his eyebrows, “Ever since when?”

“Ever since our first case with the three of us. The car ride back here? I definitely saw the way you both looked at each other.” 

Mulder looked down, with a small smile on his face, remembering that moment you shared with him. It was cute and he couldn’t disagree. 

--

The case Mulder and Scully faced that day was more than they had expected. 

It was a case where Mulder almost thought it is the end for him, for attempting batshit crazy things in order to find the truth. 

It was a case you didn’t want to see first-hand since you had hidden feelings for your best friend, and you’d probably slap him for trying something batshit crazy even if you were there to see it.

Luckily, Mulder and Scully ended up solving the case, though with some wounds and bandages from Mulder’s end. 

When you heard about the small cases of injuries on Mulder, you didn’t hesitate to drive all the way from the office to the next state just to see him. 

You were now driving slowly to face a bunch of police cars and an ambulance you knew you’d find your friend sitting by. 

“Dammit, Fox,” you arrived by the scene as you scolded him, getting the attention of Scully and Mulder

While you looked at Mulder with deep concern over his bandages and dried blood marks, he was looking at you as if you were the stars and moon standing in front of him as he was happy to reunite with you. 

“You just had to do something batshit crazy without me and look at you!”

“Yet it got us closing the case, Y/N,” he admitted, smirking at your defeat. 

“I knooow,” you rolled your eyes, “But-”

“But I did realize something along the way of almost getting killed,” he said slowly. 

This was a cue for Dana to make a few steps away from what she saw coming as his confession to you. So she subtly walked away, smirking. 

“If I did lose my head or something back there, I would’ve gone without saying that I love you.”

You looked at him silly, not knowing where this was getting to, “Um, you did right before you left your office, remember?” 

Mulder held both your hands, getting you to move closer to him. He squeezes your hands a little, smiling at you with already burning red cheeks. “Not the “I love you” type that means I do love you, more than just a friend, since you’re basically the world to me, Y/N.”

You started feeling light on your legs, feeling so foolish to not see this coming. You sat in front of him by the ambulance, still without words as you were watching your friend get only more closer to you. 

“May I?” he asked, asking permission to kiss you. 

You only agreed by kissing him first, as your lips met his, moving slowly together as the kiss was simple and long-drawn. 

When the two of you returned to looking at each other, you looked down, shyly, matching the same tone of red as his on your cheeks. 

“I love you too, Fox,” you confessed, “In that same way as well.” 

“I guess I had a hunch ever since I let only you call me by my first name,” he teased, “And did I ever tell you how good it sounds coming from you?” 

xx

[bisexualfbiagents]

You know, Scully, we've got four weeks' probation vacation and nothing to do, and Wayne Federman's invited us out to LA to watch his movie being filmed... and God knows I could use a little sunshine.

California, here we come.

THE X FILES GIF MEME [8/20] EPISODES Hollywood A.D. (7.19)

[fmluder24]

Kid Mulder going to Purim parties as Spock. Mulder giving William a Hebrew name. Mulder teaching Scully how to make matzah ball soup. Mulder lighting a yahrzeit candle for Samantha post “Closure.” Mulder fasting on Yom Kippur with all the passion he normally devotes to arguments about aliens, even if he doesn’t believe in God. Maybe especially because he doesn’t. Mulder debating explanations of the ten plagues with Scully in his kittel over Passover dinner. Mulder giving Scully his jacket in their balcony sukkah. Mulder wiping powdered sugar off Scully’s nose after she bites into a sufganiya on Chanukah.

Mulder, a reclaimed celebration of all things Jewish, instead of merely the problematic stereotypes the writers gave him.

[ferdieinceladoncity]

top ten coworkers who kiss and maybe find aliens

[mytardisisparked]

The Longest Saturday

Scully goes to visit her mom for the weekend and Mulder tries to be normal about it.

Read on AO3

Logically, Mulder knew Scully had a right to visit her mother for a weekend. She was her own person with her own things to do and he didn’t need to be in her presence all the time, regardless of the fact that they were now dating. Going away for a weekend to visit family was perfectly reasonable.

Despite the fact that he had repeated this to himself for several hours that morning, he was still missing her immensely. He used to live in this apartment all by himself for years; why did it seem so empty now?

He sighed and shuffled away from the stove with a skillet full of eggs. He spooned them onto his plate. He had almost gotten out two plates earlier out of habit. When had that become a habit? They had only been dating for a couple of months. 

When it comes to Dana Scully, Mulder mused as he shoveled some eggs in his mouth, I suppose habits are easy to form.

He felt his chest tighten and he looked over at his cell phone. No texts or calls. That was reasonable. She was with her mother. She was focusing on family time. 

His fingers itched to reach over and pick up the phone and hit speed-dial. Instead, he chucked his phone into the living room, where it hit the couch and bounced under a throw pillow. Perfect, now he couldn’t see it.

The phone’s presence lingered at the back of his mind like a specter as he cleaned his dishes and put them away.

As soon as he was done, he stood blankly in the entryway from the dining room to the living room and sighed.

Usually, he and Scully would head out on a walk to the farmer’s market, or to the park. Sometimes they would open his windows to let in fresh air and read. Sometimes Scully would read interesting new medical discoveries out loud to him from journals and he would bask in the easy way she said those big, Latin words. Sometimes he would read to her from some Michael Crichton book or another. Sometimes they would take turns reading articles from The Lone Gunmen aloud in the voices of their friends, making each other guess who had written which articles.

Sometimes, Scully would sit next to him, hip-to-hip, and he would trace little swirls on the inside of her knee until she would kiss him and drag him back to his room.

Their room.

Mulder never told Scully – this officially-dating thing was still quite new, after all – but he had stopped considering this to be his apartment the very night she had first slept over as his girlfriend. It had been a couple weeks after their New Year’s kiss. They hadn’t taken things any further, but she had folded herself up in his arms so neatly and comfortably that Mulder had decided right then and there that he never wanted to go to sleep any other way again.

He groaned. He would have to sleep alone tonight. She was staying with Maggie until Sunday.

Which is perfectly fine. He took a bracing breath and stood, moving to his house phone and dialing a number.

“Mulder?” The gruff voice on the other end made him smile. “It’s Saturday.”

“Good morning to you too, Frohike.” Mulder grinned even more. “I know it’s the weekend; I promise this isn’t a professional call.”

“Oh.” In the background, Mulder heard two more clicks – Langley and Byers had picked up and were listening in (which was, in Mulder’s opinion, rather endearing). “What’s this about, then?”

“I was, uh, wondering if you guys wanted to do something tonight. Scully’s visiting her mom for the weekend and I was thinking we could go bowling or maybe do a quick DnD campaign.” “Oh, shoot, Mulder,” Byers chimed in. “We would love to, but we’re taking Langley to go see his favorite Van Halen cover band.”“More like ‘Langley’s dragging us to see his favorite Van Halen cover band.’” Frohike grumbled.

“Hey!” Langley said, loud enough that Mulder pulled the phone away from his ear with a wince. “You bought the tickets!”

“A decision I regret.”

Byers spoke up over the squabbling. “I’m sorry, Mulder. Maybe we could find you a ticket? We would have asked when we were getting them earlier, but you’ve been hanging out with Scully more lately and so we figured–”

“No– no, it’s alright.” Mulder kept his voice light. “You guys have fun, I’m just gonna stay in with pizza and some movies.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Byers, I’m sure, but thanks.” He smiled, appreciating the care.

Byers wished him a good day and the call ended, Langley and Frohike’s bickering voices dropping off suddenly into silence.

Mulder sighed. His apartment was too quiet.

He flipped on the TV but, after 5 channels of nonsense, he turned it back off and stood. He needed to get out of here.

He dressed as quickly as he could and started walking. 

There was a park down the street where he usually ran. He didn’t feel like running today; he just walked, looking at the pigeons and the trees and the other walkers with dogs and strollers. 

He wished he had a dog.

Or a stroller. The thought popped into his head, unbidden. He shoved it away. Today was not the day to think about that.

He thought, instead, of the time Scully had gone to Maine for the weekend. They had called and talked frequently. He had jokingly proposed marriage.

Actually, he had only been half kidding, but Scully didn’t need to know that.

The air was cool enough that he was grateful for his thick sweater. He couldn’t quite see his breath, but he knew that he might be able to in the next two weeks. He breathed hot, invisible breath into his hands to warm his fingertips, wishing he had gloves.

Or a hand to hold.

His hands moved from his mouth to his entire face as he stopped walking and let out a quiet growl of frustration. Jeeze, Mulder. Get it together, man.

Though he had left his wallet (and cursed cell phone) in his apartment, he headed towards the farmer’s market. Some of the stalls had free samples. He had purchased regularly enough from most of them that he wouldn’t feel bad accepting a few offered tastes of fresh fruit and honey. 

He arrived at the alley the market usually resided in. It was empty. 

His brow furrowed as his gaze landed on a placard sitting in the alley. It read: Farmers Market closed due to conflicting flea market on–

Mulder didn’t bother to read the rest of the sign. He went home.

He wished, again, that he had a dog. Maybe he could talk Scully into getting another pomeranian. He hadn’t been a huge fan of Queequeg, but maybe if they got a pomeranian as a puppy they could raise it to be a little less yappy and a little more friendly. 

His hand drifted instinctively toward the pocket in which he usually kept his cell phone. It was empty, which was good because Scully didn’t need him budging in on family time.

The elevator at his apartment had, apparently, broken since he left home. He took the stairs.

Despite the climb, he felt sort of invigorated when he arrived back at apartment 42. He still didn’t feel like running, but maybe another form of exercise would be good?

He grabbed his basketball and started toward the door, but stopped. Slowly, he turned back towards the couch and grabbed his cell. He had no missed calls or messages, but he tucked his phone in his pocket anyway. Going out earlier without his phone had been dumb; what if there had been an emergency?

The basketball court was back at the park. Despite the fact that it was Saturday, the court was empty. Mulder threw his coat in a pile and started taking shots, feeling a bit of satisfaction with every swish of the net. 

He liked basketball, but his favorite sport was baseball. It always had been. He liked the pace of the game better, which was sort of ironic, considering how quickly he liked to move through life. Maybe baseball was just a safe place to slow down, where life didn’t feel as urgent, even as he swung a bat and ran the bases. 

Maybe that’s why he had taken Scully batting instead of to a basketball court or to a football field. Aside from the fact that he had already had baseball on the brain, he liked the idea of slowing down with Scully; of living in a safe, slow moment.

He missed a basket and decided it was time to go home.

The clock on his stove read 2:00 PM. This was a long day. Unbearably long. Usually he liked long Saturdays but this was just tor-

His phone rang.

He scrambled to pull it out of his pocket and felt his heart lift as he saw Scully’s name drifting across the caller ID. 

“Hey, Scully.” He tried to say casually, even though he was pretty sure his voice squeaked. 

“Hey, Mulder.” She replied. Gosh, her voice was so nice. “I was just, um, calling to check in.”

“Oh.” Mulder smiled. “What, you leave for half a day and assume I’ve gotten myself in a mess or something?”

She chuckled. “That’s a running theme for us, yes.” He chuckled back, knowing he couldn’t deny it, and she went on. “So I take it you’re okay?”

He bit his lip. “Yeah, no messes so far.”

They were both quiet for a moment.

“I miss you,” he blurted out before he could stop the words from tumbling out.

Idiot. Lovesick idiot.

“I miss you too.” Her voice was more sincere than he expected. “Hey, um, my mom is making some kind of pasta for dinner and wondered if you wanted to come join us.”

Mulder felt his heart lift, as though he was suddenly pumping helium through his veins instead of blood. “I, uh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“No imposition at all. She’s practically begging you to come.” Scully was quiet for a moment. “And, uh, I would really like it if you came, too.”

His smile couldn’t have been wider. “I’ll be there. What time?”

“Well, if you come now, Mom says you can help make the sauce and-”

He was out the door, coat in hand, before she finished the sentence.

[enoughslices]

Behold! I wrote a fun, fluffy little future fic in which William and Emily are normal, human, snarky adult children!

The Best by thefinestmuffins (my AO3 handle)

Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully Word Count: 5.1k Summary:

“When my card declines in therapy,” Will says with a loud sigh, glancing up mid-signature, “they’re going to pull out the NDA my mother made me sign.” Will shows Emily a shocking discovery in their parents' basement; Mulder and Scully have some explaining to do. (Or: how Emily and Will learn about the X-Files!)

Read it on AO3!

Tagging: @today-in-fic In case links break: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57869401

[frogsmulder]

would you do number 11 in joy for the the kiss asks and msr?

Hi anon! I was in a broody mood apparently because when I thought of joy I could only think of an ending where mulder and Scully got to have their family together sans conspiracy and abductions.

Miracle in Georgetown

Mulder has a very important conversation with Scully's baby bump; about 900 words; rated t; tagging @today-in-fic

Sunday 24th September, 11:04 am

Georgetown.

Scully is sitting comfortably amongst a throne of cushions on her coach. With her feet in fluffy slippers propped up on the coffee table, she casually flicks through a magazine her mother urged her to take a look at. A mug of ginger tea rests on her swollen belly that she takes sips from every few minutes while contemplating with a red pen all the cots, changing tables and mobiles they should have in the baby's room. She is still in her pyjamas and waffle weave dressing gown when the front door opens and Mulder announces he is back from his morning run and going for a shower. The smile on her face broadens bright and warm like the early autumn sun as she calls after him to not be too long.

What she doesn't expect is for him to learn over the back of the coach to kiss her forehead, mumbling “I wouldn't dream of it,” against her skin.

“Mulder,” she chuckles, reaching a hand up to play through his hair.

“Ew, Scully, no.” He playfully bats her hand away and straightens up. “I'm all sweaty.”

She hums, turning to face him, drinking in the sight of his shirt clinging to muscles. Morning-run-Mulder was one of her favourite Mulders, especially since she entered the second trimester. “Just the way I like you.”

“Uh huh? Maybe later.” Looking over her shoulder he points down at one mobile with giraffes on it. “This one–” he punctuates his choice with two taps to the glossy paper– “he'll love this one.”

She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow. “He, Mulder?”

“Yeah, didn't I tell you?” he smirks as he walks away. “I have a feeling.”

“Based on what?”

He bobs his head, considering. “Call it instinct–intuition.”

“And I'm supposed to believe you based on what– a hunch?” she teases.

“Come on, Scully! When have I ever been wrong?”

She scoffs and turns back to the magazine, circling the giraffes.

The pads of Mulder's footsteps soften as he walks away from her to their bedroom. She tracks his whereabouts mentally as he moves from the dresser to their bed to their ensuite, imagining him gradually becoming less clothed with each step. Wondering how she ever came to need him so desperately, she blushes into the tea and cradles her bump. It wasn't her fault that the Little One’s dad was so handsome and charming. Perhaps they wouldn't be in this situation if he wasn't.

She lays her head back against the coach and sighs. Listening to the sound of the water, she lets her eyes close and her mind drift.

When Scully hears the water turn off, she smiles, anticipating the return of his soft footsteps. She isn't disappointed when a few minutes later he appears in fresh sweatpants, no shirt, and towelling his hair. She has to bite the inside of her cheek at the sight of his hedgehog spikes. She pats the spot next to her on the coach.

“Good run?”

He hums and lays down, resting his head next to her hip and curling up to fit his legs on at the other end.

“I missed you.”

“I was barely gone an hour,” he half mumbles into the cushions.

“Still…” Her fingers find their way to weave into his damp hair.

He slides a hand up under her top and around her belly, thumb stroking softly back and forth against her skin. She can feel him grin and the air become charged as he lets his excitement grow.

“I still can't believe it. He's really in there.”

“And don't I know about it,” she chuffs.

“Hey little guy! What's it like in there?” He presses his ear to her belly as if they both had cups on a string to communicate. “Uh huh, uh huh. And you want more sausage and egg for breakfast. I'll pass that on.”

Mulder presses his lips to the swell of her stomach and holds them there, imparting his affection to them both.

“Now, bud,” The words tickle against her skin, the low hum of his voice both soothing and arousing. “There's a few things you need to know–man to man–that will save you in the big scary outside world. The first is that your mummy and daddy love you very much and we will always be here for you.” His voice breaks to a whisper and his eyes screw shut as he continues to rub her bump. It isn't long though before a grin erupts all the way from his lips to his eyes. “The second,” he continues with the same air of seriousness, “and this is the most important–there is only one basketball team and it's The Knicks.”

Scully rolls her eyes in good humour, but when she looks back down at him, she sees him staring up, eyes spilling over with adoration.

“You know I don't think I tell you this enough: just how amazing you are Scully.”

Her stomach drops to her feet at his utter honesty leaving her for once speechless. He props himself up on one arm, slowly crawling to an upright position. Taking her face in both his hands he kisses her languidly full of warmth and love. Pleasantly surprised, Scully swipes her tongue across his lower lip, inviting him to deepen their kiss. Yet he doesn't reciprocate, unable to when his smile clashes against her teeth.

“He's really in there,” he laughs incredulously.

She pulls away, seeing the sheer joy on his face. It warms her heart to know she's been able to give him the family he's always dreamed of. “He really is.”

[postmodernbeliever]

fox mulder nsfw alphabet (for female/feminine readers)

an a-z of what's it's like to be loved by fox mulder in allllll the ways you wish you could be.

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i’ve never made one of these before so i followed another post’s example! a lot of this is chubby-girl friendly but also works for any body type. also, i got carried away so enjoy how long this is LOL. <3

my ao3 | word count: 3,537

content tags: smut smut smut SO MUCH SMUT, dom fox mulder, soft fox mulder, nsfw alphabet challenge, lots of kinks but i don't wanna spoil you gotta read it :), mentions of period/period blood, cross-posted on ao3

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a: aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he is sweet. like, really sweet. he loves to be gentle, to tell you how pretty you are and how good you did for him, praising you up and down and giving you lots of slow, adoring kisses. he also tends to get a bit bashful, because even if he just fucked you senseless you still give him butterflies; so often he hides his face in the crook of your neck or lays on your stomach, and talks quietly, like he’s shy. all his guards are down, and he is wholly dependent and doting on you.

actionwise, he cleans you up and helps you into some clean pajamas, but he usually leaves you bottom-less because you tend to be sensitive and the feeling of fabric between your legs can be an overload on your senses. but he covers you however he can, and he combs through your hair, gets you water, helps you get comfortable in bed. he’s so gentle it’s straight-up dreamy. 

b: body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself, fox likes his hands. he knows they’re pretty big, considering he’s a bit tall, and he thinks they look strong, but he takes more pride in them also being soft. he has some callouses, but the pads of his fingers are smooth. and when he met you, you told him how nice they looked and felt, and that won him over.

on you, he can’t pick between your love handles/waist and thighs. he loves to squeeze where you have the most skin, and both of those places are where your body curves. he loves your softer edges, and because his hands are big, he can grab a lot more of you. he also loves how you react to him touching you in these places- you’re sensitive there, and you shiver when he drags his fingers across you or grips you hard. your reaction plays a big part in favoriting those spots. (bonus: he loves your hands too, because they’re smaller than his and caress his face softly… and scratch up his back. we'll get to that later.)

c: cum (anything to do with cum)  

you actually tease him about this a lot, because he gets really eager sometimes and can’t hold it in. he’s developed a routine where he takes his time with you and draws your pleasure out as long as he can because he knows the second he starts actually fucking you, he won’t last long; and he is so much more interested in letting you be the one who receives, he gets off on stringing you out. also, it takes you a while to cum, so his pleasure-driven role is that much more important to him, because he will not stop until you do. and he loves when you finally cum way more than when he does. he likes to taste you, and make you taste yourself when he kisses you with coated lips. 

d: dirty secret

the night of the first day he met you, he had an insanely vivid wet dream about you. even having been with you intimately plenty of times now, he gets nervous to bring it up, because when you’re not around, he still draws on that dream to get off to. it's kind of his guilty pleasure. in it, you drag him into his office at work and let him eat you out on his desk, all over his files and papers. you were in a pleated schoolgirl skirt, and you kept it on for him to tug at. one day he’ll tell you (probably) and buy you a skirt, just so he can have the real thing. 

e: experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

the majority of his experience comes from all the porn he’s watched. despite his drive, he was always the one to take it slow with past girlfriends, and either they didn’t stick around long enough to wait for him, or when he did sleep with them, he didn’t have enough practice to make it how they wanted it. but he paid attention to how girls like to be touched and fantasized about being good at those parts. when he met you, you were even more inexperienced than him, so everything he did was like heaven to you, and he only gets better each time. he feels lucky to have you to learn with because you’re patient and you love everything he does, so he doesn’t feel pressure. 

f: favorite position

fox is somewhat old-fashioned. he loves missionary because it’s simple, and he can kiss you more that way, and it’s easy to be gentle or rough depending on what you both want. he also likes standing missionary for the same reason, particularly for times when you want him to be rougher. but the freaky part of him likes these because he wants to watch you surrender, to see all of you beneath him, powerless, as he brings you to climax. he wants to see your eyes haze over, how you struggle to speak while he pins you down. that way, you’re all his.

fox also really loves cowgirl, because he can still see all of you that way, but when you’re feeling particularly eager he likes letting you do the work. you’re still submissive even on top, because he needs to guide your hips and tell you to keep moving. he likes cowgirl even more when you ride him while he’s upright, like against the headboard or in a chair, because you bury your face in his neck as you work, and he loves being so close to you. plus, it took you little to no time to figure out exactly how to ride him right. and because he cums so fast most of the time, you usually ride him through his overstimulation, which puts him out of commission for the night. he can get obsessive about how good that one feels. 

g: goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

he can be, because he’s naturally got a goofy streak. but unless you’re feeling giggly or playful, he just falls into that mode of being soft and dominant, talking dirty, and trying to fluster you. 

h: hair (how well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

he keeps it trim just for hygiene, but you expressed a lack of concern for that, especially since you don’t always keep yourself trim either. it can be tedious to always be clean-shaven (and he doesn’t mind if you’re a little hairy, just like you don’t care if he is.) but, he does not touch his chest hair, because you are vehement that he keeps it. 

i: intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

god, he is so intimate that it can leave you blushing for days after the fact. he does nothing but kiss and nip and lick, mouth and hands always on you; always whispering pretty things in your ears, dirty and gentle about how good you feel and smell and sound, about how pretty you look when he’s inside you. and innocent things, too. he tells you how pretty your tummy is, and your collarbones, every little part of your body gets admired. he tells you about how he loves your laugh and your smile, and how he's so lucky to have you all to himself. he takes every chance to make you feel cherished and important. he tells you how in love he is over and over like a mantra so that by the time he’s got you in the clouds, all you can think is he loves me, he loves me, he loves me… 

j: jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he jacks off fairly often, but only because he’s usually thinking of you. if you’re not around or he’s away on a case, he gets needy and takes matters into his own hands, because he can’t help his dirty mind. he’s done it everywhere- his office, the work bathroom, in just about every room in his house. and, though he’d probably never admit it to you, he likes to hold your clothes sometimes when he does, because the smell of your perfume drives him crazy. he always takes something of yours when he goes away, just in case.

k: kink (one or more of their kinks)

okay, he’s got a few, but mainly because they’re kinks based on how you act or what he wants for you. so we’ll start with the kinks surrounding your pleasure: 

obvious by now, praise. he loooves to praise. he’s crazy about you and how you make him feel, both emotionally and physically; he’s protective and loving, and he prizes you. he would make you cum just with words if he could. he adores pet names and anything he can call you, he will- princess, sweetheart, darling, honey, love, all of it. especially good girl, his personal favorite. he wants you to feel like the most special girl in the world because, to him, you are.

fox loves begging. he likes it for him, he likes to beg you for more, but he prefers when you beg. there’s something about watching you need him, and how your voice gets high-pitched and disgustingly lewd as you tell him what you want him to do. he loves being in control. 

daddy!subspace. there are times when fox gets a little too into it, and you fall into a subspace. he loves this, especially yours, because you mix his name up with daddy, and every freudian instinct in his brain fires like crazy. he loves when you call him daddy, because that opens the praise door nice and wide, and he loves helping you come down after, because you get so flushed and nervous and you’re simply adorable when you need help speaking and asking for what you want. 

now, fox’s personal kinks still have to do with you, but they're out of his own selfishness: 

belly bulges. it’s no surprise because he’s so possessive, but something inside him snaps than when he takes your hand and presses it against the pudge of your tummy, where you can feel his cock poking against your walls. he loves being just big enough to fill you, and he loves how you go cross-eyed every time he does this, too- it’s just as hot for you as it is for him. 

hands. he loves your hands and he wants them on him always, scratching him, marking his body with little red lines. they’re just small enough to make him feel big, and he loves your painted nails, too. he loves it when you pull on his shirt or his belt loops. he loves when you press them all over his face and chest because you don’t know what to do with them. he also loves to use his hands on you, to wrap softly around your neck and wrists, to pin your hips down, to push inside you; he has a penchant for sticking his thumbs in your mouth while he fucks you, too, because you always suck them like it’s your job. but there’s nothing like your hands on him. 

here’s the big one: your period. fox likes making you a pillow princess, but he’s a monster when it comes to your period. you were worried when he said he didn’t mind the blood, but that first time he ate you during your time of the month was otherworldly. he loves the extra sensitivity you have, because it takes little to nothing to get you screaming, and some dark part of him loves to smear your blood all across his mouth and his chin. he loves to kiss you with those lips, leaving bloody prints up your stomach and chest, all over your neck and mouth. he craves the mess, the taboo nature of it all, and he loves how it’s a way of gently defiling you; mixing your blood with his spit, with his cum, it makes you his and him yours. maybe there’s a screw loose on his part, but if cannibalism didn’t mean you’d die, he’d fucking eat you whole. he even likes the taste. like i said, obsessive- but it’s kind of hot, isn't it?

l: location (favorite places to do the do)

honestly, anywhere. just the fact that you want him is good enough. he’s gotten you off in restaurant bathrooms, and at family homes during holidays when you just needed him and couldn’t wait. but he is partial to his couch or his bed because he likes having you all to himself in his own space.

m: motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

acting stupid. he loves when you ask him to explain things to you, even if you understand on your own, because he likes teaching you; he also gets all hot and bothered when you pout or frown, or bat your eyelashes innocently, saying “can you start at the beginning?” or “can you go a little slower for me?”. because he knows you’re smart and the slight frustration of you acting like you’re not mixed with the need to pamper you gets him going like crazy.

saying his name. if you call him fox, or sometimes foxie, he’s just about ready to fall to his knees. nobody calls him fox, so to hear you say it isn’t just intimate and special, but it’s also so sexy. you say it so many ways, but when you want him, he’s never liked the sound of it more. 

his biggest motivation is your neediness. it seems that when you get going, you never want to stop. you want him to keep kissing, keep touching, keep licking, whatever it is you want more, and when you finish you want to start all over again because you get drunk on him- and that could keep fox going until he dies. he wants to give you everything you want, even if you never return the favor. he likes being yours to use. 

n: no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

fox does not like to degrade you, which might be odd for a guy who’s so controlling and protective, but it’s not in his nature. he loves you. he cherishes you. he couldn’t tell you you’re dirty, or you’re a slut, or any of the terms that might get other people off, because he doesn’t believe them. he thinks you’re perfect, an angel, so good, and he only wants to remind you of those. he wants you to feel loved. 

he also won’t hurt you. certain things he’ll do, like he’ll choke you or pin your wrists down, but he won’t be overly rough and he won’t leave bruises or make it hurt. you don’t fight back, so he doesn’t need to be anything other than assertive.

o: oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he prefers giving 100%. he likes it when you give him head because he likes seeing your pretty eyes look up at him, but he cums too fast to enjoy you doing it- plus, he can’t hear your noises when your mouth is full. he’d much rather just fuck you if he’s going to receive any pleasure. and god, is he good at it. 

p: pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s slow until he gets inside you. typically he likes to take his time on you, but when he starts fucking you, it starts to feel so good and you sound so pretty that he loses a little control and starts being rough. that part usually takes the shortest amount of time but it feels fantastic because he goes fast. 

q: quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

if you two are going to have a quickie, it’s going to be because you’re extremely horny in a place where he can’t take his time, and he simply can’t resist relieving you. but he really likes to be alone with you and go slow, draw it out as long as he can, and take good care of you. he wants sex to be special, he doesn’t want you to ever feel like it’s just a means to an end. sex is about love for him, not just a way to get his fix.

r: risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

fox is willing to try anything, but you both are a bit vanilla, in that sense. you only need him to feel good, and he doesn’t want to restrain you from being able to move and moan and touch him. most of the experimenting is verbal- he likes to push how far he can tease, and how much he can say to get you there. the trend seems to be that the dirtier he talks, the more pleasure you feel, and he wants to max you out. 

s: stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

he’s gotten better at lasting, but he can’t draw it out too long. he has a hard time stopping himself. but he can go a few rounds without getting tired or spending it all because of how eager he is to keep touching you, which is nice. that’s why he spends his time on you, because you can last longer, and he doesn’t need much. 

t: toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

fox doesn’t have any toys. he is more than okay with you having them because if he’s not around, he can’t expect you to wait for him if you really need a release, and sometimes your hands aren’t enough. if he’s away on a case, sometimes he’ll call at night and talk you through it over the phone, so he at least has a little part in it. but he likes to be the one and only thing you can get it from when he’s with you, and so do you. 

u: unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, he loves to tease. he loves to talk and talk and talk, so much that sometimes you have to ask him to shut up and go faster. he wants to see you completely flustered from just his words, and honestly, he can get you halfway there on conversation alone. he knows just what to say, and how to say it, and it can be torturous, but you love it. and physically he teases, too, because he favors stringing you out. it can feel unfair at times, but you like it too much to care.

v: volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

he has two sides. most of the time, he’s quiet, low, gruff; he grunts, he moans, sometimes growls if he’s really feeling possessive. but when he’s close, it turns into the most adorable whining. right in your ear, too. he pants and stammers, and easily gets overwhelmed. it’s not too high-pitched, but it’s needy and uncontrollable, and it sounds so, so pretty. 

w: wild card (random headcanon) 

fox never kisses and tells. he doesn’t have many friends, but if anybody tries to inquire into his sex life, he won’t say a word. he wants to keep it all to himself, and he refuses to let anyone know a thing about you or how you act when you’re intimate with him. he respects your privacy and he doesn’t want anyone else thinking about you in that way. he also knows he has something special with you- sex with you is really emotional and involved for him, and he doesn’t want to just air out his love to other people. 

x: x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)  

(oh myyy, am i blushing.) a bit thick, and give or take maybe six, six and a half inches hard- no, give. he’s big. it’s veiny, especially when he’s overstimulated. and it’s curved up a bit at the tip- which is a pretty shade of pink, by the way. cute, just like him.

y: yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

anytime, any place. he always wants you. he can keep it under control of course- he gets through every day just fine. but he’s always thinking about you, and even when it’s innocent, he yearns to be with you and make you feel good. his dick loves you almost as much as his heart does. 

z: zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

for a guy who can’t sleep, fox gets pretty tired after, but he can stay up way longer than you can. usually, you need some aftercare, and you fall asleep shortly after, and he likes to stay awake to watch you sleep because your blush lasts and your skin is still hot. he loves to admire you for a while when you’re not watching. he also gets hungry after, so he usually stays up to eat something, and then he’ll crawl back into bed and pull your sleepy body in close. 

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this actually put me through hell to write because i want him so bad it’s driving me insane. hope you enjoyed, you little freaks. gonna go think about that period kink now. 

[muldermuse]

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.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Spooky Family - Fox Mulder X Female Reader

Title: Spooky Family

Fox Mulder X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Scully, Jodie (OC), Charlie (OC), and Stevie (OC)

WC: 1,576

Warnings: X-File stuff mentioned, teasing, some super cute stuff going on here

Scully let out a sigh as she left the building, Mulder in tow. Her shoulders dropped in relief, digging her hand into her pocket to grab her keys. Scully and Mulder had just finished another X-File, it wasn't as bad as most of their cases had been over the years. But it was over, finally, and Scully was just ready to go home. But the thought of driving another four hours made her frown. 

Mulder jogged up to walk beside her, bringing his hand out to her, palm up. "Keys." He spoke, as Scully looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"What, why Mulder? I thought I was driving back to D.C.?" She asked and Mulder shook his head.

"We need to make a quick stop." He spoke, before Scully reluctantly tossed him the keys as they made it to the car.

Opening the passenger side door, Scully paused, "Did you run out of sunflower seeds?" She asked and Mulder didn't say a word, just hopping in the driver's seat. Scully pursed his lips, sitting down and shutting the door. As Mulder began to drive, Scully tried to figure out where they were going. Asking Mulder wasn't really seemingly going anywhere. And now, looking down at the cup holders, Mulder still had half a bag of sunflower seeds left.

Glancing over at him, Mulder's eyes were squinted slightly from the sun, and Scully knew she'd get no answer from him. She sighed and looked forward again as they drove through the streets. The drive was long, but it was less than an hour when they entered a suburban neighborhood. This made Scully even more confused, but she kept her mouth shut as Mulder pulled to a halt in front of a quaint house. It was a nice gray, two-story house, with a three-car garage, and large windows for natural light. The lawn was freshly mowed, and small flowers and bushes littered the outside of the home, obviously well taken care of.

Scully's brow creased again as she watched Mulder walk up the steps onto the porch, unlocking the door. So many questions were racing through her mind. Who lived here? Did Mulder live here? But he had an apartment, she thought. Did he know someone who lived here? Friends? Family? Maybe a parent? Grandparents? As she hesitantly entered the home behind Mulder, she was surprised to see a smile on his face, a real smile.

"Honey, I'm home!" He exclaimed, and Scully's eyes widened as two little kids came barreling down from a hallway, launching themselves right into Mulder's arms; they couldn't have been more than seven years old. 

"Dad! You're home!" The little boy in his arms cheered, looking like an exact replica of his father, and it was the same for the little girl tugging on his pant leg. 

"Yeah, Dad, I thought you were coming home tomorrow." The little girl replied, her brown hair in pigtails as she pushed up her thick-framed glasses.

"Well, kiddos, I decided to surprise your mom today." He placed his son back on the ground, "Now, Jodie, Charlie, say 'hello' to Scully."

The two kids, Scully guessed that they were both twins, looked up at her with big smiles, "Hi, Scully." Both Jodie and Charlie spoke in unison, before looking back at their dad.

"Now, where is your mother?" Mulder then asked, and Jodie hopped in her spot, filled with excitement.

Jodie pointed to somewhere in the house, "Momma's with Stevie." And to that, Mulder nodded, bending down to get on eye level with his two oldest children.

"Well, will you two go get your momma for me?" He asked, and the two kids nodded, before running off across the hardwood floor; almost slipping as they did so. Mulder sighed, watching them go as he stood up. Glancing at Scully, he almost laughed at her face; her jaw dropped and her eyes widened slightly. 

"You have a family?" She abruptly asked, and Mulder nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, sorry I didn't tell you... But with our job..."

Scully nodded, "I get it, Mulder." She smiled, looking off at the house around her, "I never thought you'd have a family." At her words, she instantly frowned, shaking her head, "No, I'm sorry. That was rude for me to say."

Mulder shook his own head, dismissing her with a wave of his hand, "No, no... I never thought I would have a family either. With the job I have. But... When I met Y/N..." He trailed off, not even finishing his sentence as a young woman, holding a small baby in her arms, walked out from another room, her two children trailing behind her.

You instantly smiled when you spotted your husband. "Fox, you're home early." You walked over, adjusting your baby boy Stevie in your arms, and pressing a kiss to his cheek. You then turned to meet Scully's gaze, giving her a smile, "And you must be Dana Scully. Fox has told me a lot about you." You spoke, offering your hand out to shake hers.

Scully let out a breathy laugh, shaking your hand, "All good things, I hope." She smiled, and you chuckled, nodding.

“Absolutely.”

Stevie suddenly babbled and reached out his little arms towards his dad, so you passed him off to Mulder. "Hi, Stevie," Mulder cooed softly, pressing a kiss to the baby's forehead, "How's my spooky baby?" He muttered, slowly walking off as his two kids followed after him, telling him about their day.

You watched as he left, letting out a happy, dreamy sigh. Looking back at your husband's co-worker, you felt your cheeks flush, "Here, come on in. Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to eat, or to drink?" You asked, walking further into your house, leading the woman to your kitchen where you gestured for her to sit at the kitchen island. 

Sliding out a stool, Scully sat, clasping her hands together on the counter, "Oh, water would be great, thank you."

You nodded, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with tap water. Sliding the glass over to Scully, you grabbed yourself a water before sitting across from her.

"So, what is it like working with Fox? Do you believe in that extraterrestrial and supernatural stuff too?" You smirked, as Scully rolled her eyes and took a sip of her water. 

"Well, I am definitely a skeptic. Though... My job is slowly changing my opinion." She then tilted her head, "What about you? Do you believe in the strange and unusual?" She asked and you shrugged.

"Sometimes. I used to be a skeptic, but after meeting Fox... He somehow convinced me." You sighed, glancing over at a family photo of you, Fox, and your children then hung on the wall. "He makes everything seem so much more possible."

Scully hummed quietly, taking another sip of her water. "Well, you have a wonderful family." She spoke, glancing over at you before smiling gently.

Smiling back at her, you nodded, "Thank you." You smiled down at the counter, "They are my life." You confessed, before resting your palm on your cheek, leaning your elbow on the counter. "Jodie and Charlie are twins, if you hadn't guessed, and they are a handful. Both of them are just like their father, believing in aliens and Bigfoot… Even Nessie..." You trailed off with a laugh, before continuing, "And Stevie, he's my youngest. Only a couple of months old. Fox is sure he's going to believe in aliens just like him and the twins. But, he’s got his own littler personality, but definitely a daddy’s boy." You chuckled, Scully nodding in response before she herself spoke. 

"If I may ask, how did Mulder get a woman like you?" Scully began and you tilted your head slightly as she continued, “I mean, he’s a pretty… Odd guy…” She spoke slowly, uncertain.

You smirked, shrugging one shoulder, "Oh, you know, he just charmed his way into my life... Somehow."

"Hey!" Mulder entered the room, holding little Stevie in his arms as Jodie and Charlie clutched onto his jacket sleeves. "I heard that." He pointed at you.

"Hey, honey." You greeted Fox softly, learning a smile from the man. Your heart fluttering in your chest as you watched him.

Stepping over to you, he pecked your lips briefly before setting Stevie in his high chair. After settling the twins down, he leaned against the breakfast bar, crossing his arms. His brown hair was messy, and his shirt was a bit wrinkly, as he grinned lightly at the two women. "Been talking about me, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, standing as you picked up your empty glass. "All good things, my love, all good things." You then turned to Scully, "Would you like to stay for dinner?" You offered politely, and Scully's eyes widened.

"Oh, I don't want to impose." She stammered, but you waved a hand.

"Don't worry, I insist." You bumped your hip against Fox's, "Besides, Fox makes the best spaghetti." You winked, causing his cheeks to color a slight shade of pink as he glanced over at you. Smirking to yourself, you continued speaking to Scully, "Anyway, we usually have dinner around six thirty, why don't you join us? There will be plenty."

Scully glanced between you and Mulder, unsure of whether to accept or decline your invitation. Finally, she simply gave you a nod. "Alright. Thank you."

[agent-troi]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The X-Files Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, William Scully Additional Tags: Fox Mulder and Dana Scully in Love, Family Fluff, Day At The Beach, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet Summary:

Mulder and Scully take their son to the beach.

[maidenlesslilith]

I'm caught up to day 20 on AO3, but am still posting my Fictober prompts one at a time here :)

I'm currently at a work conference, and have been putting in a ton of overtime as deadlines come up, so finding the time and the mental/emotional capacity to finish writing out these prompts has been limited. I'm still going to finish them, so keep an eye out for more!! As for now, please check out this cute little X-Files blurb about bigfoot:

Day Seventeen: Strangest Thing I Ever Heard

"What did you just say?" Scully asked her partner, her eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline, which Mulder had to admit was quite a feat.

He grinned at her before steeling his expression, attempting to remain serious in the face of her incredulity. "I don't understand the issue, Scully. What don't you get? If we want to solve this case, we just might have to consider a few more unorthodox methods of discovery."

"Yes, but Mulder–"

"Now, I know what you're going to say. 'But Mulder, how is walking through the forest knocking on trees with sticks and howling going to help us with this case?' and I will rebut with: 'well, Scully, I believe that is what the victim was doing at the time of his death'. If we can replicate the circumstances of his death, we just might find out what killed him."

She studied him closely, her eyes narrowing. "The banging on trees with sticks and howling is not the part of the plan I had a problem with, Mulder. Even as unbelievably ridiculous as it is."

He bit the plush lower lip she was always staring at. "Look, I'm not saying sticking you in a cage as bait will bring bigfoot out of his hidey-hole, Scully, but it might!"

Read the rest on AO3! Thank you so much!!

[freckleslikestars]

Check

Thank you lovely!

Mulder takes Scully on a date.

422 words, read here on AO3

They’re in a restaurant, his choosing this time, and it’s more than slightly nicer than their usual fair, with a candle and flowers in the centre of the table and jazz playing quietly on the speakers. He orders a bottle of wine with the justification that they’ve closed the case, and they’re technically off duty, and tells her she can have anything she wants when she hesitates before ordering a salad. Off his look, she changes her order to pan-seared salmon, quirks an eyebrow when he orders himself a steak. Not within the Bureau’s usual budget, but she assumes he’ll justify it on their expense report with some bullshit about the local diner in the town being closed for renovations or something.

She frowns at him when he suggests dessert, and he shrugs it off with the offer of sharing, perhaps the cheesecake? And because she can’t resist the impish smile on his face, she nods, blushing when he takes one bite and then spends the rest of dessert drinking her in as she relished the tart bite of passionfruit mellowed by the sweet, creamy cheesecake.

It’s not until he presents not the Bureau card, but his own personal one, with the arrival of the check, that she realises that this is a date.

He blushes when she asks, avoids her eyes as she beams at him, ducks his head as they walk, side by side, out of the restaurant.

She clears her throat and stops, just on the edge of the warm glow spilling from the bay windows of the restaurant, waits for him to turn and look at her, and when he does, she pushes up onto tiptoe and presses a tender kiss to his coarse jawbone. Their cheeks are flushed, whether from the wine or the chill of the air or their shyness, and they step away from one another, standing in silence for a moment, before she smiles up at him, ‘thank you, Mulder.’

He shrugs and proffers his arm out to her, smiling softly as she takes it, and they slowly make their way towards their motel, a comfortable, companionable silence settling over them until they reached her door.

‘It was a beautiful dinner.’

‘It was.’

‘Maybe we could do it again sometime,’ she says quietly, and he nods.

‘I’d like that.’

‘Goodnight, Mulder.’

‘Goodnight, Scully,’ he presses a kiss to the corner of her lips and waits until her door is closed before heading into his own room, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

Tagging @today-in-fic

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