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#fox mulder fanfic
muldermuse · 6 months
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Hallöchen!
Will it be okay for you to write a nsfw sequel to “reader gets jealous of Fox’s new coworker” headcanon? That ending was perfection 🤌🏼
PS Love love love your writing and can’t wait for spooky season fics 💗
the fact that i will never get to make out with Fox Mulder in his dingy basement </3333
nsfw belowwwwwww
(also this is the hc that was referenced in the ask!!! i love u all tysm for sending things through)
Fox had been working a new case, Scully was off so he had this new agent with him…and god, she was gorgeous. A bright smile, beautifully styled hair and her shirt and skirt combo was pressed within an inch of it’s life. She was called Amber and yes, she was gorgeous- she was also rude. A rude person. A rude person who was currently staring at your fiancee like he was a slice of cake.
You brought her and Fox a coffee (you’d learned from your interactions with Agent Wilson), Fox smiled and thanked you as he took a sip of his usual flat white. Amber didn’t take a sip, she politely smiled but did not make eye contact with you. She didn’t thank you. A lot of these things may sound petty but in this moment; you decided you had to do something. 
You manage to leave your desk early so you can be there for when Fox and Amber are leaving the basement. She confirms with a wink that she’ll be there for 9am sharp and Fox politely agrees with a smile as he wraps you into his arms and asks you about your day. You do not miss the way Amber’s eyes track your body up and down before she leaves. You can practically smell the jealousy coming off her body.
To be honest, it kinda makes you feel primal. He’s your fiancee, you wear your engagement ring every day, Fox’s desk has two framed pictures of you and Amber definitely knows about your relationship. So, even though you have already made your relationship clear to one co-worker, you realise you need to go nuclear with this one. 
***
The plan starts in the morning, whilst Fox is showering and brushing his teeth, you apply your dewy make up and put his favourite lipstick on. You time it perfectly to ensure that when Fox is leaving the shower (with a towel hanging loosely around his waist) he sees you bent over your vanity in your garter and suspenders. Fox has never been shy about how much he loves them, when he goes down on you he asks if you can put just them on with no underwear so he can feel the nylon of the tights pressed against his ears. You clock his expression in the mirror as he realises how you’re dressed. Before he can see your smirking reflection in the mirror, his naked body is pressed against you.
“Baby, you can’t do this- we have to go to work” He presses slow kisses to the back of your neck as you continue to dab on your lipstick “How am I supposed to work knowing you’ve got this on all day”.
You know the plan is stupid. Really stupid and like something from an awful porno- but as Fox slept soundly last night, you ran through the plan in your head and you’re fully committed to it.
You run your hands through his damp hair and press your chest close to his; feeling his heart rate accelerating with the skin to skin contact. You move your hands down to his waist and run your fingers lightly over his towelled waist.
“I’m not sure baby…you’re just going to have to try really really hard” You softly bite his neck and push his towel down, your hand passes gently over his hard dick. He moans into the touch and kisses you deeply. You make eye contact with a smirk.
“I need to get to the office early today so you’ve got 5 minutes” You press a quick kiss to his lips as you scamper off. Fully aware of how great your ass looks with the garter and suspenders. You know you have Fox wrapped around your finger at this point.
Fox drives to the office and the tension is high, he keeps his hand on your thigh throughout the drive and keeps rubbing his thumb higher and higher. You can’t help as you move in your seat and moan softly into his touch. As he parks up, he kisses you and gently slips his tongue into your mouth. He goes to open his door but before he can leave, you kiss the side of his face and whisper into his ear that you forgot to put panties on this morning. Fox looks at you dumbstruck as you exit the car and head to the elevator to take you to the basement.
***
All this planning had lead to the moment that Amber walks in. You’re obviously not fucking over Fox’s desk (although it was highly tempting, it was also a lil bit unprofessional) but to be honest, the scene she walks into is just as intimate. Fox’s shirt and your skirt have been thrown onto the ground as you straddled him on his office chair. You were pressing deep kisses to his neck and feeling his moans leave his mouth. He has one hand grabbing your ass and the other one tangled in your hair to push you deeper into his neck. 
It’s highly compromising.
It’s private.
It’s fucking perfect.  
You know it’s Amber by the gasp and the sound of two disposable coffees being dropped on the floor in shock. “Oh my god-Fox I’ll give you a minute”. The door quickly slams shut as Fox kisses you in apology. 
“Fuck baby, I’m so sorry…I knew she was coming in early just…time got away from me I suppose” He grabs your skirt from the floor and throws it at you, both of you trying to hold back giggling as you quickly dress in an attempt to look professional- despite what you’ve both just been caught doing. 
Fox pulls you into a kiss before he goes to sit down, he goes to wipe the smudged eye make up from your under eye but you stop him before he gets chance. The smirk on your lips seemingly reveals your sordid plan. Fox smirks back at you, he pulls you into a deep kiss as he grabs your ass with both hands, he murmurs against your lips “Pretty good revenge plan baby”.
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malfoys-demigod · 1 year
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"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)
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“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
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internet-sadass · 4 months
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Can't Keep My Mind (Or Hands) Off You (Fox Mulder x pregnant!female reader)
Blurb: Mulder can't keep his mind, or hands, off you now he's got you pregnant, which leads to a little lunch break fun in his car.
Warnings: smut, car sex, pregnant sex?, breeding kink
A/N: If anything about pregnancy in here is not realistic, oops, I have not been pregnant and I tried my best to research the symptoms etc. Also, the reader works at with the FBI but doesn't work with Mulder on the X Files. She does come and do admin work for him (like photocopying and bringing him coffee) because that's what a good partner does 😘
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"Okay, so I managed to photocopy these photographs for you. They're not the best quality, but I'd say they're passable. I mean, you can still make out the shape of a figure in the tree line. I'm guessing that's what you need them for, right? Identifying weird humanoid figures." 
Mulder nearly dropped the folder he was holding. 
"You're not wearing a bra." He stated, completely matter-of-factly, despite how he stared at you.
It was true: you had forgone a bra that morning and opted for a white vest under your blouse instead. Your breasts were constantly aching now you were well and truly into your first trimester. Wearing a bra meant you would wince all day and be unable to focus on anything except how sore your chest was and how much you couldn't wait to tear your bra off as soon as you got into your car at the end of the day. But today, you weren't in the mood to suffer hours of feeling like someone was squashing your already tender breasts constantly, so no-bra it was.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully at Mulder as you set the thick pile of photocopies on his desk.
"You're observant this morning. Did you listen to anything I just said? Or do you need me to repeat that all while you," You tilted his chin up so his eyes met yours rather than admiring the twin peaks of your pert nipples against your blouse. "Keep your eyes up here." 
Mulder placed his hands on your waist, running them down over your hips. Since you'd shown him the four identical positive tests and the doctor had confirmed that you were indeed pregnant, he'd found it incredibly hard to keep his hands away from you. Everything he'd loved about you and your body was amplified tenfold now. And right this instant, your significantly fuller breasts, the healthy flush across your cheeks, and your pretty eyes staring up at him were destroying his normally undying devotion to his job. 
"Yeah, yeah, I heard you, don't worry. The photocopies. Thank you, sweetheart." You were pulled closer to him, very much breaking the 'no touching' rule you had agreed on to prevent the pair of you from losing your jobs over inappropriate workplace behaviour. "More important is, why aren't you wearing a bra? You're not, you know,” He lowered his voice, “lactating?" 
You laughed, shaking your head.
"Nope, not yet. Going to be another few months before that happens. They're just sore, that's all, and wearing a bra is getting pretty intolerable. So, no bra." 
As you explained, Mulder’s hands wandered over the changing contours of your body, settling, as they always did, on the subtle hump of your pregnant belly. Even if he couldn't feel anything, since the baby was no bigger than a plum at this stage, he felt an instinctual need to place his hands protectively over the warmth of your lower stomach. Sometimes, he swore he felt something stirring within you, but he knew it was just his very wishful thinking. 
Snapping back into the present moment, Mulder recalled that you said that your chest was hurting.
"Can I make them hurt less? Please." He whispered, hands drifting up to cup just below your breasts. He leaned close to you, kissing your cheek so softly that his lips barely met your skin. 
You shivered at his touch, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on your sensitive flesh, to have his mouth on your skin, kissing over your sensitive areolas. Another kiss was placed on your cheek, making you groan. As much as you, and presumably Mulder, wanted to take the day off and spend the whole time rolling around in bed, you knew that would have to remain a fantasy. 
"Later. I promise. As soon as we get home, I'm all yours." You placed your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt. "We can last until the end of the day, can't we?"
Mulder wasn't sure he could last that long. How could he if you were walking about looking so damn irresistible and beautiful and full? 
Clearing his throat, he finally released your body from his protective grasp. 
"We can, yes." He lifted the photocopies you'd made. "Especially if I have to go take a look at this sasquatch. Keep my mind occupied." 
‘And off your gorgeous body’ , He added mentally. 
***
"Oh, please be gentle- ah, careful!- please be gentle with me, Fox." You whimpered, arching your back against Mulder's torso as he pulled your vest up over your breasts, catching on your nipples, making them sting. His hands settled on your breasts, cupping them, weighing them in his hands. They certainly felt bigger to him, filling up more of his hands than before. 
"I'll be gentle, don't worry. I'll be so gentle with you, doll." He whispered back to you, brushing a thumb over one of your nipples, making you keen and squirm against him. After many hours of being unable to think of anything but you, he was glad to finally get his hands on your body and touch it as much as he (and you, of course) wanted. As much as it was your body that was making him harder and harder every passing second, the way you begged him to be gentle with you and your heightened reactions to his touch only added fuel to the fires of his arousal. 
The pair of you hadn't made it to the end of the day. When Mulder got a minute, he found you and nearly dragged you out to his car. He'd driven to a slightly more private place than the bureau car park, and both of you moved to the backseat, kissing each other like a pair of teens who'd finally got the house to themselves and were free from the prying eyes of their parents. Now you sat on Mulder’s lap as he touched you, drawing all sorts of pretty sounds and whispers from you by just lightly touching your tender and aching chest. 
Every caress, every careful touch of your tender breasts was a sweet mix of painful and pleasurable. You were in ecstasy, arching your back, grinding against Mulder's thighs, begging him to ‘stop’ and ‘keep going’ simultaneously. The sensation of him sucking and kissing at your neck only made you more desperate and aroused. Though you winced whenever your flesh was squeezed, your eyes almost rolled back into your head when he rolled his thumbs over your nipples, drawing circles on them just as he did with your clit every time you two got intimate. Your climax felt embarrassingly close, considering he’d done nothing more but grope your breasts and kiss your neck. The fact you could feel his erection, so hard it was almost painful for you to be sitting on, only added to how turned on you were. 
"P-please...I want more of you. Touch me more." You panted out, seizing one of Mulder’s hands and moving down under your hiked-up pencil skirt. He pushed your panties aside and slid the tips of his fingers along your leaking slit. Thick, creamy arousal gathered on his fingers and leaked onto his trousers, staining them with a prominent damp patch. 
"God, you're so wet." Mulder mused as he slid two fingers into you. There was no resistance whatsoever, as your insides welcomed the intrusion of his fingers, twitching around them. You groaned and bucked against his fingers as they pressed up into the most sensitive part of your insides. 
"A-all because of you." You said, struggling to speak as you couldn't focus on much else except how good it felt to have your pussy spread open by Mulder’s fingers. 
He chuckled, scissoring inside you before pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. 
"That's not true; it's not all my doing. It's because of your hormones, too." 
As he toyed with your pussy and rolled your clit under his thumb, slick leaked out, soaking his hand and the leg of his trousers. You writhed about on his lap, grinding against his stiff length. It was Mulder’s turn to moan as your movements threatened to make more pre-cum leak from his slit and wet his boxers. He wanted to be inside you so badly, especially as he could feel how wet and pliable your pussy was right now. A whine left your lips as he slid his fingers out of you.
“You’re so needy, aren't you? It’s cute.” He mumbled as he guided you to lie across the backseat. Placing one knee on either side of your hips, he straddled you, leaning down to kiss you as he undid his belt.
You smirked against his kisses.
“Speak for yourself. You can’t even pause to take your pants off. That desperate to be inside me.” You whispered back to him. 
Mulder didn’t fight back with words. Inside, he moved his mouth from your lips to your nipples, running his tongue over one of them, swirling around the hard nub. You winced and groaned, your body unable to decide whether it liked the sting of your oversensitive buds being touched in such a way. Seeing your reaction, he moved to the other nipple, bringing a hand up to gently squeeze your breast and circle his thumb over your now wet nipple. You writhed about under him, switching between arching your back, pressing your chest up to him, and shrinking away, trying to escape but finding no way to roll away from him without falling off the seat. 
Feeling as though he had ‘tortured’ you enough and got his fill of toying with your gorgeous chest that had been distracting that whole day, Mulder lifted your hips, lining your entrance up with his weeping tip. He entered you, earning a sharp gasp of pleasure from you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to stay hilted deep inside you. 
This was what Mulder had been thinking about all morning. Even with a particularly promising case to chase up, all he could think about was you and being inside your intoxicating tight, wet heat. As much as he wanted to draw out the process of rutting into your velvety insides and feeling you clamp around him as you said his name over and over, he simply couldn’t hold back. He pounded into you, filling the car with the slap of skin on skin and the sickenly wet sounds of his cock spearing open your soaking lips. You looked so perfect below him; your pupils blown out, your skin sheening with a light layer of sweat, your neat office makeup beginning to run as tears squeezed from your eyes, your full breasts bouncing with every thrust of his hips. To top off the view of you, looking more beautiful than ever, the way you were saying his name every time he hit your deepest and most sensitive spot was something he knew he’d replay in his head whenever he couldn't be with you. You swung from breathing out his name in pants to calling it out to barely whispering it as your orgasm broke and made you fall apart under him. He already knew he loved you, but at that moment, as you said his name in a barely audible tone and looked up at him with doe-eyes full of adoration, it felt like that love grew tenfold.
“O-oh, god, fuck, I love you.” 
Words fell out of Mulder’s mouth, very much beyond his control, as he felt the heat of his orgasm spread from his lower belly and along his length. He felt himself fill you with spurt after spurt of his hot seed, his cock pulsing as it emptied its load into you. Reluctantly, he pulled out of you, smearing his tip over your swollen folds, unwilling to let any of his cum go to waste. 
You sat up, a wave of dizziness washing over you. Clearly, so much excitement and activity had put your delicate body under some strain, and it struggled to cope. You looked down at yourself, noticing the gradually growing puddle of cum leaking out of your entrance. The more you sat up, the more that leaked out. You groaned at the sight; it almost made you want to go another round. 
“God, you always cum so much. No wonder I got pregnant the second time we tried. Your car seats are ruined now.” You said, laughing as you forced yourself to sit fully upright and start making yourself look presentable again.
Mulder shook his head at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“They’re leather, so that won’t stain or mark them. And aren't you glad we didn’t have to keep on trying to get you pregnant?” He said, nudging you.
You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance at his remark.
“I don’t think either of us would have minded it taking more than just two times without a condom. Not that we need condoms or an excuse to fuck like rabbits anymore.” You joked, helping re-do Mulder’s tie for him, kissing the tip of his nose.
***
Scully was waiting for Mulder when he rushed back into his office, still looking much more dishevelled than a man coming back from a completely average and normal lunch break should look. 
"Mulder, where were you?" She asked, looking him up and down, folding her arms like a parent would do to a misbehaving child.
"Um...Lunch." Mulder fumbled with his answer, knowing as soon as it left his mouth that there was no way in hell that Scully would believe that he’d just been away getting lunch.
"For over an hour? It took you that long to get lunch?" She pressed, closing the door to his office as he searched about his desk for the photocopies of the sasquatch you’d made him earlier. 
There was a long and uncomfortable pause as Mulder stared at the photocopies in his hand, trying to think of a way to answer Scully’s question. At this point, he knew it was basically pointless to carry on giving her excuses; she had worked out what he’d been up to the minute she saw him. Finally, he thought of a (pathetic) reason for why he’d disappeared for nearly two hours. 
"There was a queue. A long one." 
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shmaptainwrites · 9 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐗-𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 —
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Dana Scully x Fox Mulder
A World Without You [AO3]
- Mulder visits Scully while she’s in the hospital going through chemo
As a Hello [AO3]
- One of the many ways in which Mulder and Scully have said I love you
If it Wasn’t Obvious [AO3]
- Mulder Says I love you under the sheets
Grounders [AO3]
- Scully says I love you over a cup of coffee
My Idiot [AO3]
- Mulder says I love you as a scream
Crumbling [AO3]
- Scully says I love you as an apology
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Fox Mulder
[TBD]
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fangirleaconmigo · 1 year
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You know what I think is missing from modern M/F ships? Women who Fuck Shit Up to protect the men they love.
Yes ok I’m queer and I love queer ships but I was thinking…I did used to have a M/F ship. I did love Mulder/Scully. What did they have?
It was this:
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This is like ep TWO and Scully finds out that someone has kidnapped Mulder and THIS is what she does to find and rescue him. LOOK AT THOSE EYES THE HOMICIDE IN THEM!
I feel like modern writers think feminism and Strong Female means that women characters have to be unimpressed and cool and so critical of the love interest that you can’t even tell she likes the guy.
Fuck that.
Because when that happens I COULDNT GIVE TWO SHITS About that ship. She doesn’t even like his ass!! She should find someone she likes!!
The only caveat of course is that you make the man someone who is worthy of her (I.e. he respects her mind, supports her dreams, is loyal etc)
David Duchovny was asked about the chemistry between them in 1996 and he said:
Do you play it like Fox has impure thoughts about Scully?
No, what I tend to play is that I always want to check with her. Whenever I hear something interesting, I’ll look at her. That’s sexy to people.
If you’ve established that he respects her, then yes she should be a fucking simp. Otherwise I am not rooting for them!!! Otherwise! I! do! Not! Care!
Scully believed in Mulder immediately! She didn’t believe in aliens but she believed IN HIM. She defended him from DAY ONE to the higher ups, she fought for him, she respected how he really listened and how he really cared about regular people getting fucked over by the government.
In the same interview, Gillian said:
I think what makes the relationship between Scully and Mulder sexy is the respect they have for one another. They don’t manipulate or take advantage of one another. I’m sure that’s very intriguing for the audience.
So yeah.
Real respect. Real devotion.
And a woman who will demolish a motherfucker for harming her man.
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ayphyx · 1 month
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Fanart for @skelavender’s lovely fanfic series Fall into Place :3 (you can read it here on tumblr btw)
(Edit: I FORGOT MULDER’S RING AKIHABHIAOBIHAHBIOWHOIBWOWB OK I FIXED IT)
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scullee · 8 months
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the x-files + text posts 1/?
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chellestrash · 4 months
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After work
Fox Mudler x F!Reader summary: You decide to make the unwinding after work a bit more interesting for Mulder warnings: teasing, mentions of smut, implied smut. Just something short, sweet and fun for the end of the year. word count: 2.2K a/n: this is me trying to get out of my writing/art block. ALSO, first time writing Mulder! Thank you @chelseasdagger for editing this!
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You lay on the small couch in Mulder’s apartment, resting on your side, turned to face the room as the gentle light from the TV shines onto your face. Some low budget horror movie plays quietly on the small screen, but to be completely honest, you don’t pay much attention to it, choosing to have it on as a means of killing time. You usually finish your work before Mulder does, even on the off chance he might leave the office at a normal hour. Killing time until you get to see him in the evening wasn't an unusual thing for you now you didn't mind it.
A cheap gag in the movie makes you sigh quietly before you look away, glancing up at the small window above Mulder's desk. You frown, suddenly realizing the late hour. 
You check the time, squinting at the clock on the bookshelf next to the sofa, before glancing at the phone on the desk. 
The thought of calling him passes by your mind, but you brush it off quickly. You weren't too worried about him, not today, the case him and Scully have been currently working on didn't seem particularly dangerous or high risk, at least not from what he's been able to share with you over the phone. 
The subtle sound of house keys on the other side of the door to the apartment makes you smile, perking your head up and turning to face him.
“Well, well, well…look who's here.”
He speaks first, pretending he wasn't expecting to see you there. 
“You mind telling me how you managed to get into my apartment, ma’am?”
Rolling your eyes at the tease, you turn away to face the TV again.
“I broke in using the keys you gave me.”
You explain without taking your eyes off of the movie, snuggling into the pillow harder while he pulls the work jacket off his shoulders and makes his way over to the couch. 
“Well, damn.”
He mumbles quietly, his usual monotone voice makes the corner of your lips pull up slightly.
“I need to be more careful about handing out my spare keys, huh? I mean, what is this? It's like anyone can just walk in, lay on my couch and make themselves at home.”
“Oh, anyone?”
You raise your eyebrow, glancing up at him in an accusatory manner.
“Well…”
His lips push into a small pout.
“You got me, I give up.”
You breathe out a small laugh as he leans down, pressing his lips to the side of your head gently before moving away. He loosens the tie around his neck and tosses it off to the side before he unbuttons the top couple of buttons on his shirt.
“So…”
He starts after a moment once you pull your legs closer to your chest to make room for him on the couch by your feet. He sits down, lifting your legs up slightly just to rest them gently in his lap.
“What are we watching?”
He asks, fingers slowly rubbing up and down your calves.
“Ummm…not sure. Killer clowns, I think?”
“UUUuu, spooky.”
Mulder hums, unimpressed, and you chuckle at the reaction. There's a pause and you both actually pay attention to the movie for a short while.
“Aliens?”
You glance over at him, catching the small smile when you ask the work related question.
“No um… no, it was vampires, actually.”
He explains and you nod.
“Real ones?”
The smile widens as you seem genuinely interested. At least somewhat.
“Well…technically, yeah, you could say that but, you know.”
“No evidence?”
He shrugs.
“No evidence.”
“I mean, it's a possibility, right? You've handled cases like that before.”
You state, and Mulder nods, agreeing with you, his hand slowly rubbing over your thigh. He turns away from the TV, now looking directly at you.
“Do you think I should remind you that that is classified government information, you technically know nothing about, huh?”
“Oh, I'm soooorry.”
You talk back, head now propped up in your hand, face turned away from the movie you found yourself no longer interested in watching.
“Guess I just overheard it when you were talking in your sleep.”
“Hey!’
Mulder reacts immediately, and you can't help the laugh leaving your body when he pulls you up and into his lap with a slightly offended expression.
“.... I talk in my sleep?”
He asks, hands rubbing over your lower back while you throw your leg onto the other side of him, straddling his thighs in effect.
“Oh, not at all.”
You mumble quietly, pushing a couple strands of hair that fell forward onto his forehead away from his face with a soft smile, and he offers a small one in return.
“You know what? If I didn't know you any better, I would've said that didn't sound too convincing.”
He points out in the quiet, monotone voice, and you shrug your shoulders softly.
“I mean, I could’ve just read your mind, and you'd never know.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He asks with a slightly raised eyebrow.
“You're changing your confession now?”
He teases in a typical Mulder manner, and your smile grows bigger as you tilt your head to the side, letting him continue after a moment.
“So what-what you're trying to say is I work a case all week, and then I come back home to relax, and now I have another X-file on my hands? Is that what you're trying to say?”
You smirk, glancing up at him innocently.
“Oh, I'm not trying to say anything except that I missed you.”
He smiles so big, his teeth shine in the light of the TV screen.
“Me? You, missed ME?”
You hum quietly, confirming your confession as you rub your hand up along his chest.
“Well, that's good to know. Why didn't you call to tell me earlier, hmm?”
“Didn't want to interrupt you at work.”
You explain yourself, and he shakes his head gently before whispering your name softly. 
“You are the only person who I want to interrupt my work, okay?”
His thumb brushes over your cheek, and you lean into the touch, staring into those dark brown, puppy dog eyes. 
“Okay.”
“So you missed me?”
He goes back to your earlier point, and you breathe out a small laugh.
“I need to try and remember that next time I'm at the office, huh?”
“I mean.”
You brush your hand over his shoulder and down his arms.
“I wouldn't complain.”
You shift your position in his lap, and he grunts, feeling the weight of your body now directly between his legs, his grip on you tightening slightly. 
“Oh, but I know you have your vampires and aliens and things you need to deal with over there.”
You speak softly, your fingers gently tracing over the shirt. Your head tilts to the side slightly as you try to make sure your words actually reach him. His eyes jump around your face as you talk, stopping at your lips for longer than they would in a usual conversation before he tilts his head down, eyes now fixed on the spot where your body presses against him between his legs. His hand moves up your back, pushing at the hem of your shirt.
“Hey.”
You start again when he doesn't respond.
“Earth to Mulder?”
“Hmm?”
He mumbles, questioning what you've just said, clearly too lost in the situation to pay actual attention to what's being said.
“When did you stop listening?”
“What?”
He blinks a couple of times before frowning, offended that you’d question his ability to listen to you…under the circumstances.
“Oh, I actually heard everything, for your information.”
He states confidently, and you raise your eyebrows, doubting his words.
“Oh, you did?”
He nods, slipping his hand right under your shirt, his palm flat against your bare back now.
“Yep, everything, yeah. Loud and clear.”
Still slightly out of it, he nods again quickly, doing his best to sound as convincing as possible despite the evidence you feel, oh so clearly, pressing against your body from underneath you.
“So, what did I say?”
You push.
“You said you missed me.”
He starts, and you can't really argue with that.
“And then you also mentioned how I am the best looking federal agent you ever dated, I'm pretty sure.”
Not giving you much time to disagree, or call him out, he raises you off of his lap, swiftly helping you lay back down on the couch. You lay under him as he leans closer to you, his hands playing with the hem of your shirt, his eyes stuck on yours. 
“I don't think I said that.”
You frown.
“But you said you missed me.”
He points out again.
“And you called me an X-File.”
You mumble, unimpressed, and he laughs, shaking his head before it hangs low above your chest.
“I mean, you could argue that was a compliment? Maybe?”
You roll your eyes, a smile back on your face as you decide to let him have it this one time.
“Okay, yeah, that's what I'll do.”
You glance down, slowly raising your knee up, nudging at the bulge in his gray slacks. 
Mulder hums quietly, grinding his hips down slightly as a response to your move. His hands linger over your body, one now under your shirt, the other on the side of your neck.
“Yeah?”
He asks, his voice soft, his touch gentle but impatient.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah and-”
He leans down, pressing his lips against your neck, and you tilt your head back slightly in response, a silent invitation for him to continue.
“I think I deserve some extra credit.”
He mumbles, his words breaking up between the kisses. He slowly moves lower and lower down your torso as he pulls the fabric of your shirt up to expose more and more of your skin, until finally pulling the fabric off and over your head. He tosses the shirt off to the side and his lips find their way back to your body, right above the waistband of your jeans.
“Credit for?”
You glance back down, your hands pushing through his hair when he looks back up into your eyes, lost in the moment, in the kisses and in the feel of your body under his.
“Creativity?”
You laugh, head falling back down onto the couch, fingers still in his hair as you feel his lips back on your body.
“Yeah, okay, I'll give you that.”
You purr softly. As gentle as possible, you scratch at the back of his neck, the short hair prickling the tips of your fingers softly. He lets out a satisfied hum, resting his head right below your belly button, facing you with his eyes directly on yours. You push your hips up slightly, feeling his fingers brush over the sides of your body, and he glances down between your legs before turning his head up to look towards your face again.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, you get extra points, Agent Mulder. Now c'mere.”
Instructing him to move closer to you, you push your lips against his when his face is inches away from yours. He moans into the kiss, and in response you do the same as the kiss deepens more and more. Feeling his touch firmer on your body now, you reach down, palming the bulge through the fabric of his pants. There's a loud grunt, he breaks the kiss, his lips parted, eyes closed as his lips curl up into a big smile.
“Well, good job, me.”
He mumbles quietly, tracing his hand down your body, fingers curling under the waistband of your jeans while his big, brown eyes open and find yours once again. 
“I think maybe-maybe I should try to earn more of these points, huh?”
Mulder asks, his thumb rubbing over the skin above your jeans.
“I think you really should.”
You agree quickly, nodding and pushing your hips up slightly at the same time.
“You got any-”
He pauses for a moment, placing a wet kiss on the skin right under your belly button, and you feel the warmth between your legs grow significantly stronger.
“Any idea how I could do that?”
He kisses the same spot again, then moves slightly lower, then lower and lower again before working the zipper open. Slowly pulling the fabric down your thighs, he brushes his lips over the newly exposed skin, and a moan slips past your lips.
He chuckles loudly at the sound, shaking his head when you look back down with a soft smirk.
“Oh, Agent Mulder, I think you know very well how you can do that.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He asks, in a lighter tone this time.
“I mean, I'm pretty much just guessing here, I-”
He quickly glances between your two bodies.
“I have precisely zero idea what I am doing here right now.”
You scoff loudly, pushing his face away and letting your head fall back onto the couch again.
“Too much sarcasm, too little action there, Mulder.”
You squirm impatiently under his body, hungry from the promise of pleasure.
“Copy that.”
He nods quickly, the big smile never leaving his face for even a second before he buries his face between your legs.
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is-on-its-way · 1 month
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Bathtub
Post-Fight the Future
A moment in Scully's recovery from Antarctica after being released from a Buenos Aires hospital.
Inspired by this insane "blooper" video. and a tweet asking for a fic about said moment.
There was a soft knock at the door and Mulder said “Scully?” through it. 
“Come in Mulder” she called. 
There was a pause and she yelled out again with a smile “Im not indecent”. She was covered in bubbles after all, he wouldn’t be able to see anything below her shoulders.
He opened the door and slid his face through it apprehensively but when he saw she was covered completely, he relaxed and moved halfway across the frame.
She smiled up at him as she swallowed a retort of “Nothing you haven't seen before”, not wanting to make him needlessly uncomfortable. He had seemed like he’d been held together by a fine thread, under constant threat of loosing what little composure he’d been keeping together for her since she had woken up in the hospital in Buenos Aires. 
They had been in an airy third floor walk up on a street full of colourful buildings, with bare trees lining the cobble stones, since she’d been released from the hospital a couple of days ago. She’d been throughly enjoying wandering around Palermo with him, looking at the old architecture that rivalled DC, listening to live music in the evenings, sitting at a corner cafe sipping wonderful warm coffee, not thinking about work for what felt like the first time in a long while. 
He hadn’t mentioned anything about what had happened yet, letting her take the lead, but she could tell he was itching to. He had so much on his mind and she would have to get the full accounting eventually. But here in this cozy old stone building, in a bathtub from at least 1920, with a weathered door that wouldn’t lock, she felt like she was in a different lifetime. A sanctuary away from the x files and what they would have to return to in Washington in two days. 
“Hey” he said eyes lingering on her face, no chance of impropriety there. She loved him for it.
“Skinner called, he’s glad you’re out of the hospital and he said to call as soon as you can, so…”
“No dilly dallying?”
He smiled at the term and said “Right, I don’t think we should keep him waiting he’s uh… well, annoyed would be a generous interpretation”
She laughed, “Okay, Ill be out in a minute.”
He turned out of the door then back to her “I was going to order some late breakfast, what do you want?”
“You can order in Spanish over the phone?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Well…” He shrugged throwing his hands out. The bottle cap he’d been playing with slipped from his fingers, hit the water, and sank with a tink to the bottom of the tub. 
“Sorry” he said quickly, passing all the way through the threshold and stooping down over the tub. Before she could think to move, he slipped his arm between her legs and was fishing on the bottom of the tub for it. She swallowed the gasp in her throat as his arm brushed her inner thigh and her back straightened imperceptibly in response.
She followed his arm down with her eyes and shifted her legs open so he could reach it, where she could feel it had fallen, under her leg. She looked up at his face, lips parted, in surprise. He seemed truly concentrated on finding the thing. Was he just so comfortable with her now, almost kissing her in hallways, and carrying her half naked across the arctic that this was just what their partnership had evolved into? She wondered what he would do next, imagined what he would do next, hoped at what he would do next. 
“Got it” he said and looked up at her, his hand dripping over the water. Their eyes met and she swallowed as she saw him register the desire she had been too slow to hide. She could see the moment flicker behind his eyes as he realised what he had done. His cheeks burned red as he leaned back, closing his hand around it in a tight fist. “Im sorry Scully, I don’t know what I was thinking doing that.”
She shook her head, setting her face in a casual expression, and ran her tongue over her dry lips. “Thats okay Mulder.” 
They both waited for the other to speak and when neither did, she decided to end his agony. Her mouth spread in a wide smile and then she was giggling. He looked at her and chanced a smile. 
“Mulder” she said sweetly. The water sloshed as she put her hands up in front of her, resting her fingers on the hollow between her clavicles, covering her breasts. She leaned onto the side of the tub, closing the distance he'd put between them. She looked up into his face. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before anyway.” She said it as a comfort, not in jest.
Mulder’s face was flushed but he smiled at her with such gentle affection, she could’ve stood up and thrown her arms around him in a sudsy wet hug. 
Instead she said “Can we go out to that cafe again? I think I need to get the blood flowing with a walk.” Not that that wasn’t already happening right now, but she wanted to be outside, she’d felt slightly suffocated being inside since Antarctica.
“Of course, anything you want, Scully” He said in that stoic tone she loved, as he stood and made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 
End. 
@today-in-fic
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actual-changeling · 11 days
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some early fluffy msr featuring once again a very tired scully and a worried mulder. if i end up writing more vignettes like these i might start posting them on ao3. this is set a few days after the first pfaster incident.
Mulder should really wake her up.
Not only is sleeping on the desk incredibly uncomfortable—speaking from a lot of experience—but he also knows that her first reaction to realising she fell asleep at work will be shame. She is slumped over in her usual chair, angled towards him and with her back to the door; every now and then she makes a little noise and buries her face deeper into the cradle of her arms.
Her blazer has ridden up her back and her blouse with it, revealing not soft skin but a deep-blue, slowly healing bruise. There are several more littering her entire body, and Mulder has caught her wincing or hissing in pain more times than he can count, swallowing the needle of guilt that comes with it. The memory of her sobbing into his chest is at the forefront of his mind, impermeable and achingly bright, and he regrets not shooting Pfaster dead right where he stood.
Scully had insisted on going back to work and shrugged off any and all attempts at getting her medical attention, eventually telling him to 'leave her alone or so help me god'. Not wanting to push, he had, and yet, seeing the shadows under her eyes match her bruises more and more, he wishes he had said something—anything—if just to make sure she is not hurting more than can be avoided.
It is not difficult to guess what exactly is keeping her up at night, and this is not the first or the last time a harrowing experience haunted them all the way home. Nightmares are as much part of the job as paperwork, and he would carry it all for her if he could.
Mulder watches her lips part for a sigh, a week's worth of fatigue finally catching up with her, and his indecision disappears entirely. He quietly pushes back his chair and tiptoes around their office, first taking the phones off the hook, then switching off their cellphones too. If anyone wanted something from them (and 'anyone' was almost exclusively Skinner), they were going to have to wait.
After locking the door, he turns off the ceiling light, picks up his coat, and gently drapes it over her shoulders; the heavy fabric wraps around her like a cocoon, making her appear even smaller than she already was. Shifting for a few seconds, Scully seems to adjust to the new weight and influx of warmth, but she quickly settles again with sleep softening her features. Hesitantly, Mulder reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, disproportionately endeared by the content noise he gets in response.
In the late afternoon twilight, her red hair is littered with specks of gold, and he cannot resist the urge to run a palm over the back of her head to smooth it down further. Leaning in, he presses a tender kiss on her temple, murmuring "_sweet dreams"_ before he can second-guess himself.
Mulder knows he cannot change what happened or the lingering trauma she is inevitably struggling with, but he can allow her to get the rest she needs, if just for a little while, his gaze never straying far from her. No uninvited visitors disturb her peace, and he busies himself with expense reports and filing while she naps. 
The sun sets, the moon rises, and a handful of hours later, he catches her lashes fluttering and fingers twitching as she finds her way back to consciousness.
Contrary to his initial assumption, Scully doesn't seem to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, but rather leans back and pulls his coat tighter around herself. Her eyes are clear, and he can spot the beginning of a smile tugging on her lips. He breathes against the sudden wave of anxiety washing over him, worried that he somehow overstepped.
"Better?"
Scully nods, letting out a puff of air and looking away as a blush rises to her cheeks.
"Thank you," she whispers, extending her arm to take his hand, which was starting to make a mess of the files without him noticing. Mulder squeezes it in return, his thumb unconsciously drawing circles along her knuckles. Unsure of how to deal with the emotions surging between them, he bites back the joke on his tongue and settles for honesty instead.
"If you ever—you can call. Anytime. Odds are I'm probably up anyway, and if-" he stumbles, mentally preparing himself to see her walls slot back into place, but she is meeting his gaze with steady, familiar affection. 
"If that's something I can do, please. Let me."
Scully squeezes his hand one more time before pulling back, carefully pushing herself upright. His coat is swallowing her, merging her with the creeping shadows on the wall, and her hair is a flame, drawing him in like a moth to the light. His light. 
"Dinner? Your choice."
Mulder smiles, recognising the offer for what it is: gratitude and affirmation wrapped in one.
"Let's go."
(When Scully calls him later in the early morning hours, they end up falling asleep together, and seeing her lively and infinitely less tired at work is worth the phone bills he continues to amass over the next few weeks.)
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muldermuse · 3 months
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Fox Mulder Masterlist
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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
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brenayla · 2 months
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poll for mulder
117 notes · View notes
cecilysass · 2 months
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Milagro Fic Recommendations
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These are good for any time of year, of course, not just February 14. But here are my favorite fics related to the season 6 episode Milagro, a long time favorite. (And @sisterspooky1013's favorite episode of all time: happy VD, girl!) I’ve been reading and sifting through these for some time, and I have tried to include some from all eras: newer AO3 fics, some written right after the ep aired, etc. But I'm sure I've missed some, so hit me with your own faves, please.
Because of Milagro's ending, this entire genre of fic tends to be heavy on the hurt/comfort and angst (which is fiiiiine by me), but that’s not all that’s here. Many of these are smutty, but not all.
Adagio - Terma99 A meditative, peaceful take on the aftermath of Milagro by a veteran author that includes both agents realizing something they had learned. Lovely.
Alma - 6hoursgirl (@sixhours) A lovely hurt/comfort Milagro piece. This one is Mulder POV, which is a little less common for post-Milagro, I think, and I like this characterization of Mulder as desperately wanting to help Scully, desperately wanting to protect her, but also a tiny bit scared of the intimacy and relationship he feels they’re on the cusp of. He’s so good-hearted and also a little dysfunctional here, and I love it.
Bated Breath - dreamingofscully (@dreamingofscully) This one has an original take on Scully's experience; it leaves Scully with clarity and new direction in her relationship with Mulder. DreamingofScully tends to write a more confident, in-charge Scully in the MSR than some do, and I appreciate it.
Beyond the Strokes of a Typewriter - storybycorey (@storybycorey) When Scully is stricken and ashamed that it’s been so long since anyone has seen her as a woman as Padgett did, Mulder is pushed to revelations. Mulder 3rd person POV. Very good smut build up. And nobody does a gorgeous feelings reveal from Mulder like storeybycorey, man.
I Believe - Diana Battis There are a lot of lovely, heartfelt hurt/comfort fics about the aftermath of Milagro (for obvious reasons), but this one is especially well done. Viewed from Scully’s third person point of view, it focuses on Mulder’s capacity for tenderness and guilt. Plus some smut.
Don’t Look Up - ArtemisX5 After Padgett's hallway revelation, Scully is horrified that she has no secrets left. But you know, Mulder is much slower on the draw than she gives him credit for. There is also such moving hurt/comfort in this.
Intimacies with Strangers -mldrgrl (@mldrgrl) This mid- and post- Milagro piece has Mulder and Scully simmering in tension and then boiling over. Their relationship is complex and painfully entangled, and I love how it plays out. There is also excellent Scully characterization. This one helps me to get more fully why she might have been drawn to Padgett initially, something I struggle with in the episode.
La Madrugada - h0ldthiscat A carefully told tale of RST that takes both characters seriously and is sincerely moving. Excellent.
Lacuna - Aloysia_Virgata (@aloysiavirgata) This is a longer work, not really a classic post ep per se. But I love this moody, angsty casefile set right after Milagro. This Scully has not come to terms with her emotions, is thoroughly freaked by how she reacted to Padgett, and hasn't even entirely worked out how she feels about Mulder. There is Scully/other here, but the ship is steering home. The end of this is so moving, but cw: dark themes in the casefile, extreme violence against children, traumatized agents.
Still Life - Seek_Its_Opposite (@seek-its-opposite) Ah, this is such a thoughtful and exquisitely written Scully character piece — and it contains some truly beautiful insights about Mulder, too. It suggests the heartbreaking idea that Mulder’s way of showing Scully respect (giving her distance) is continually hurting her. So tragic (and consistent with canon, e.g. Never Again.) One memorable line: “Every one of their fights is about how to care for one another, every last one.”
Alma Gemela - matchingfabric (@matchingfabric) After the events of Milagro, Scully (and Mulder) get accustomed to platonically sharing a bed for comfort. This is a slightly different take on post-Milagro. Exceptionally, irresistibly sweet. Oh, and smutty.
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What did I miss? Tell me. And yes, I'm working on my own short Milagro fic that will be coming soon-ish.
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bakedbakermom · 7 months
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Good Morning
Rated X // 2300 words // Read on A03
tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr
Summary:
He loves her first thing in the morning.
Notes:
A little smutbiscuit for Kinktober 2023. Prompts: morning sex, frottage, (light) somno. I was 3 or 4 days into writing this fic when the painfully talented @msrafterdark posted this piece and it was like fate and the universe had come together.
He loves her first thing in the morning.
Well, he loves her all the time—volleying theories back and forth across the office over burnt coffee and crappy photocopies, singing along off-key to whatever radio station comes through the static three hours into a road trip from one corner of nowhere to another, lounging on a tiny motel bed with sharp springs and a pile of reports spread out like snow across scratchy blankets. He loves her on his couch sharing a beer after a long day, in her kitchen as they dole out boxes of takeaway (broccoli beef extra spicy for him, kung pao tofu for her, and she always nabs the carrots from his shrimp fried rice), nestled against him with her tiny feet propped up on the coffee table and a bad movie on TV. He loves her when she presses her sweet lips to his and breathes hot into his mouth, when she wraps her smooth white legs around his waist and whimpers “more,” when she clenches around him in the dark as she shatters on a gasp of his name. Oh yes, he definitely loves her then.
But he especially loves her first thing in the morning.
It’s something about how soft she is. Agent Scully is all crisp lines and barbed tongue, the creases of her suits pressed sharp enough to kill a man as she slices through the hallways of the Hoover Building like a red-headed sword of justice, eyes flashing blue steel. Agent Scully can unman the most cantankerous and blustering small-town sheriff with the twitch of one razored brow, can force Death itself at scalpel-point to surrender the most intimate secrets of the grave.
Agent Scully flashes through her days like a machete, too sharp to touch and so blindingly bright it hurts him to look at her sometimes. But Morning Scully. Oh Morning Scully…
Her edges blur in the evening, melting under his words and his mouth and his hands, but it takes until morning for her to grow butter-soft and creamy between the rumpled sheets of their bed—her bed or his, both are theirs, though this particular morning they’re secure behind door 42, the honeyed sunlight of a rare empty Sunday drizzling through the blinds and illuminating the intricate dance of the little dust motes that hang in the air. She sleeps on her side with her back to the window, the light catching her crimson hair in a nimbus that he thinks would inspire a better man to painting or poetry, but reduces him to gibbering wonderment.
He watches her sleep with something like awe. Her lips slack and slightly parted, still plump and red from kissing. Freckles sprinkled like cinnamon across her sleep-pinked cheeks, hair in a delightfully tousled disarray that makes him think of sunset clouds and cotton candy. There’s a little crease between her eyebrows as if she’s dreaming of something unpleasant, and he smoothes it oh so gently with his thumb. He doesn’t want to wake her; he’s not done looking yet. 
The sheets have shifted as they slept, revealing the hourglass curve of her side, the mole cradled just inside the firm crest of her hip. She had whimpered last night as he tongued it, a long detour on his slow journey to the oasis between her thighs. Her body is ripe with secrets to explore, his mental map of her slowly filling in as he traverses every hill and valley. He writes “here be monsters” beneath her ribs where she is too ticklish to touch, “here be angels” on the curve of her breast where the gentle scrape of his teeth makes her breath hitch. He finds heaven in the cradle of her hips, nirvana in the fragrant skin of her neck, paradise in the lush press of her lips.
Morning Scully may be soft, but Morning Mulder is getting decidedly less so by the minute.
She stirs slightly and rolls onto her back, the sheet slipping down the slope of her breast. One rosey nipple emerges into the cool morning air, pebbling quickly into a tantalizing peak, and he can’t resist anymore. He leans over her and circles it gently with his tongue, then pulls it into his mouth. He licks and sucks, feeling her flesh tighten even more, and when he scrapes his teeth against it, her chest jumps beneath him. She sucks in a breath, and her hands come up to card slowly through his hair. “Morning, Mulder,” she murmurs, her words still slurred with sleep.
“Good morning, Scully,” he answers as his mouth slides wetly to her other breast, on which he lavishes the same attention as the first, the slow and thorough consideration of his lips and teeth and tongue. Her breathing quickens, her pulse jumping visibly beneath the soft skin of her throat, and she moans low and long. He runs one hand up her leg, and her thighs part with a contented sigh; his fingers move higher until they brush against the curls of her sex, parting them to reach the hot, slick slit beneath. Morning Scully is always putty in his hands, her limbs loose and heavy, making love to him like something from a dream. “Sleep well?”
“Mmmhmm.” Her hips move in small circles as he plays between her legs, right on the line between soothing and arousing, and a blush blooms across her chest. “Wh-what time’s it?”
“Late.” He kisses his way up her neck, suckles on her earlobe until she whimpers softly. She still hasn’t opened her eyes. “I let you sleep in as long as I could stand it. Sorry.”
“S’okay.” His fingers skim her entrance and she twitches beneath him. “This is a nice way to wake up.”
“Do you want to go back to sleep?”
Her face scrunches adorably, and she makes a grumpy whining sound in her throat. “Maybe?”
He smiles into her skin, presses his fingers just barely inside her. “Do you want me to stop while you figure it out?”
Eyes still closed, lower lip between her teeth, she smiles and shakes her head. 
Her body is sleep-warm and limp as he drags her thigh over his hip, opening her to him. His erection presses into the firm flesh of her ass as he strokes her, coaxing her arousal slowly to life. He slides his fingers through the slick folds of her sex, coating them in her wetness; some of it must be from last night, when he had pressed her into the cushions of the creaking leather couch and come inside her with a cry that made the upstairs neighbor bang on the ceiling—and then again, in this bed, as she rode him like a prize pony until they both came apart at the seams. She clenched around him like a vise as they came together, and the way he spasmed inside her only set her off again, until their orgasms seemed to feed off each other in an ouroboros of pleasure that felt endless and left them both gasping, shaking, too exhausted to even roll off the wet spot, let alone clean up properly.
She’s slick halfway down her thighs.
“Fuck, Scully, you’re so wet. You feel so good.” He slides his tongue into her ear and one finger into her slippery, aching heat, and her neck arches off the bed. “You felt good last night, too, especially the second time”—and now he scrapes his teeth along the shell of her ear, slides a second finger alongside the first—“when your pussy was already full of my cum, when I could feel it leaking out of you as I fucked you.”
“Jesus, Mulder,” she gasps, and spreads herself open even more, hooking her leg behind him and shifting a little onto her side. He holds her across her stomach and gathers her partly on top of him; her head falls back on his shoulder so he can tongue the soft column of her throat, nibble the sweet ridge along her collarbone. He ruts against her as his fingers pump slowly in and out, her clit hardening beneath his thumb. One arm is still trapped against the mattress, and he wriggles it free as best he can to fondle her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.
She moans, squirming against him and pushing her ass deliciously against his hard length, begging for more. A quick shift of her hips, an awkward moment of fumbling, and then his cock is no longer trapped between their bodies but gliding between her slickened labia, and she brings a hand down to press him more tightly against her. He thrusts languidly, trapped between her hot little fingers and her even hotter cunt; he skims across her entrance with each stroke, rubs the head of his cock against her clit, her hips rolling in counterpoint to his sweet, unhurried rhythm. She reaches backward to grab his hair, whimpering, and his newly unoccupied hand busies itself at her other breast, groping and tweaking them in tandem.
“I love making you feel good, Scully.” His voice is velvet and gravel, his cock almost painfully hard against her molten core, and he talks to keep from embarrassing himself by coming before he’s even gotten inside her. “I love making you wet, feeling your clit pulse under my fingers, my tongue.” He licks her from shoulder to ear, leaving a glistening line of saliva along her skin, then sucks on the sensitive little spot where her jaw meets her throat. Soft little oh s spill from her lips as she grinds harder against his cock, and stars crowd his vision. “I love making you come, over and over. The sounds that you make, the way you smell, the way you squeeze me with your tight, wet cunt. ”
“Oh God.” Her whole body shudders and he feels a warm trickle of arousal coat his cock. Her face turns into the pillow, muffling the increasing volume of her moans. Greedy for the sound of her, he cups her jaw to pull her into a long, sloppy kiss, swallowing each whimper as she writhes against him with growing desperation.
“Are you awake yet, Scully?”
“Yes,” she pants helplessly against his mouth, his cock gliding between her soaked folds with almost no resistance. Soft, wet sounds fill the room, broken only by her breathy moans, his desperate panting. “More,” she manages to gasp. “God, more.”
His arm tightens around her stomach, and in one smooth move he drags her fully on top of him and scoots until his back is against the headboard. Her thighs fall to either side of his and he spreads her wide, his thick cock still thrusting along her slickened sex. She drops her head back against his shoulder and he growls, “Touch yourself,” into her ear.
A moment of hesitation, a deepening blush in her cheeks, and then she obeys. He watches her hand moving in quick tight circles over her clit, brushing the head of his cock as he slides it up and down the length of her. He slips just barely inside and she cries out, chasing him with her body when he withdraws, teasing her again and again. She gasps his name between casual blasphemies, notes in a symphony of moans and whimpers. “I want you inside me,” she finally begs. Her hand is slick with her own arousal as she wraps it around his cock, pumping him slowly, holding him against her entrance. She arches back to kiss him, plunges her tongue into his mouth, unable to stop the embarrassingly high-pitched whines coming from her throat. “Fuck, Mulder, I need you inside me when I come.”
“I live to serve,” he purrs against her mouth, and thrusts firmly upward, impaling her in one smooth motion. A loud cry pours from her throat—the neighbors are definitely going to complain again—and then she’s riding him for all she’s worth, her hips rolling and the muscles in her thighs clenching as she gallops toward release.
“Yes, oh God, Mulder, yes,” she gasps again and again, breathless and wanton, her tits bouncing in his hands as he pinches her nipples and her fingers making ever-more-frantic circles over her clit. “Close, so close, harder—”
Her words melt into a loud moan as he begins to plunge into her from below, his feet braced against the bed for leverage and his cock bumping against her cervix with every stroke. “Yes, Scully,” he hisses into her ear. “I want to feel it. Fuck me until you come.”
She’s tight and clenching around him, hotter than hell and slicker than sin, and his hand leaves her breast to join her fingers, stroking her clit together. He bites her nape, hard, and with a startled “ Oh! ” she shatters, her inner walls squeezing his cock in strong, rhythmic flutters as she gushes around him.
“Christ, Scully, did you just–?! Oh my god–!” Before she has a chance to answer or even catch her breath, he squeezes her tightly against his body and thrusts hard and fast, unable to hold back any longer. His ass lifts off the bed as he pistons in and out of her, desperate for release, and when she tightens around him again he comes with a roar—someone next door bangs on the wall—spurting hot inside her until his eyes roll back in his head and his vision goes red at the edges.
He comes down to find himself spooned against her, her ass cradled in the bowl of his hips as he softens inside her. They’ve made quite a mess, but his legs are burning like he’s been running for miles, and she’s gone completely limp against him; the last thing he can imagine is getting out of bed.
Still, he tries to be a gentleman.
“Want me to make some coffee? Then maybe a shower?”
She shakes her head against the pillow and pulls his arm tighter around her body. “I think I might be falling back asleep.”
He smiles into her hair. “Want me to wake you up a little later?”
“Absolutely.”
Hope you enjoyed! As always, comments will be printed and pasted into my little self-esteem scrapbook <3
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television-overload · 14 hours
Text
of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Oh hey, look, it's that massive story I've been working on since January! I'm so thankful to everyone who has shown interest in the concept of this fic and the little snippets I've posted. You've been more help than you know. Without that support, I don't think this would have ever gotten finished.
A special thanks to @numinousmysteries who kindly beta read for me and did a fantastic job. I wanted to make sure I got this right, and she was a great help!
And now I can't wait to share this with you all! New chapters posted daily!
[Read on AO3]
Chapter 1 /33 - ink and paper
How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.
She'd never have guessed...
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Find out if adoption is right for you! Visit us at 8080 Meadowlark Ln. Annapolis, MD “A Home for Every Child!”
Scully stares down at the brochure on the desk. One of many, which are half buried underneath a pile of paperwork from their current case. Certain words and phrases are circled in pen, underlined, annotated in the margins in the familiar scrawl she knows almost better than her own.
stability – less travel? change in division? discuss with Scully
loving home – ask Frohike for real estate agent #
The word “family” is circled three times.
She swallows with some difficulty, finding—to her dismay—that her hands are shaking. Mulder will be arriving any second, and here she is, frozen like a statue.
How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.
She’d never have guessed…
“Morning, partner,” his voice calls out, and she jolts in surprise. She hears the door snick shut behind him, but she can’t bring herself to turn around. With deft fingers, she pushes the brochure back under the stack of papers where she found it, only the colorful corner of the page visible.
“Morning, Mulder,” she tries, clearing her throat. It comes out strained, but she hopes he doesn’t notice. She hides her trembling hands in her lap under the desk.
He looks down at her, half amused, half concerned. “You okay? You're not getting that stomach bug that's been going around, are you?”
“I'm fine,” she answers defensively, warning him to back off. She grabs a file off the desk in front of her with a little more force than necessary, plopping it open.
‘Okayyy,’ he mouths exaggeratedly, eyebrows raised. He sits down at his desk and leafs through some papers sitting on top, arranging them into neater stacks. When he uncovers the brochures, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, hurriedly covering them with other papers and trying to act natural.
Scully thinks about letting it go and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s hiding, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep until she finds out what’s been going on in that ridiculous head of his. 
She idly flips to the next page of the file in her hand, displaying a confidence she doesn’t feel in the firm set of her shoulders
“Doing some light reading, Mulder?” she asks, attempting to look disinterested.
His head shoots up, a look of alarm on his face. For a second he thinks she might be talking about something else, that she couldn’t possibly know, but one look at her throws that theory right out the window. He glances back and forth between her and the papers on the desk a few times before dropping his shoulders in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Scully, you weren’t supposed to see those,” he says, shuffling all the brochures into a pile while carefully avoiding eye contact. “I was working here late last night. I must have forgotten to put them away.” As he speaks, he opens the top drawer of his desk and shoves them inside, then takes a seat at his desk. His nose is buried in a file before she can even respond.
She watches him now. He is a curiosity, determinedly feigning concentration on a case she knows he finds disinteresting and a waste of time.
Typical.
“You're really not going to say anything?” she asks, arms crossed in front of her.
That rankles him. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, indignation boiling below the surface.
She looks at him incredulously, the file in front of her all but forgotten.
“You're thinking of adoption? When were you planning to share this with me?”
He sighs and shakes his head, pleading silently with her. “It's too soon, Scully. I didn't think you'd want to hear it yet.”
“But you're looking into it because…”
“It's just been on my mind, that's all.”
She stares at him, brows furrowed.
“Since when?”
Since when… Images flash of a life he didn’t recognize. His sister, alive and grown up. A quiet suburban neighborhood. Cancer Man living just down the street. A wife and kids, but not the right ones. It was wrong, all of it was wrong.
“A hallucinatory trip into an alternate universe tends to make you think,” he answers simply.
He’s looking at her now, deadly serious despite the joking tone. She doesn’t respond. Can’t respond.
“I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring all this up,” he continues. “I know it's a sore spot for you.”
It takes her a moment to conjure words from her mouth, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “I just wasn't expecting…”
“For all I know, this isn't even something you'd want.”
What does she say to that? Is she interested? 
“I– I'm not sure. I've never really considered it before.”
He waits, his eyes assessing her for some hidden meaning, some insight into her state of mind. He gets nothing. She’s totally blank.
“Well… what do you want?” He thought the question was innocuous enough, safer territory than straight up asking her if she wants to adopt, but apparently not.
She shuts her folder, abruptly standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I'm going back to the crime scene,” she declares, changing the subject. “I want to see if there's anything we missed.”
“Scully…” he tries.
“Not now, Mulder.” Without even taking the time to put her coat on, she flees, leaving the door partially open in her rush to get away. Cursing under his breath, Mulder grabs his coat from its hook and hurries after her.
The elevator doors are almost all the way closed by the time he catches up, but in this case, he figures it’s worth the potential loss of a limb. He throws his hand between the closing gap in the metal doors, and it bounces back open to allow him entrance, to the extreme displeasure of one Dana Scully. He wisely stays silent in the elevator, stealing glances at her every few seconds out of the corner of his eye as they ascend. He can feel the frigid air coming off her in waves. It’s been a while since he’s seen her this annoyed with him, this eager to get away.
He won’t let her. Not this time. He’s learned from his mistakes.
In the parking garage, she's walking briskly, heels clicking on the concrete, and he has to pick up the pace to keep up with surprisingly agile little legs.
He didn’t want this confrontation. There was a reason he was keeping his research a secret. This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid, at least until the time was right to carefully drop some hints here and there. But now? There’s no carefully about it. No option to wait and let this blow over. There’s only one way out of this at this point, and unfortunately, that way is through.
He picks up the pace.
“You're the one who brought this up, Scully, I was perfectly happy throwing those brochures in my drawer and not saying a word.” 
His voice echoes in the concrete parking structure, sounding harsh even to his own ears. As frustrated as he is with her, that isn’t his intent. He only wants to know what he can do to help her, how he can help her fulfill her dreams. He lets out a breath, and with it, releases his selfish frustration. She’s still walking away at a breakneck pace, and he doesn’t know how he can get her to stop and face this. 
“If you want to talk about it, let's talk about it,” he says, pleading. “I can't help you if I don't know what you want. You want me to shut up, never mention the subject again?” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, just tell me. What do you want, Scully?”
“I just want to be a mom, okay?” she yells, whirling around to face him. Her words instantly silence him, and he watches stone-faced as tears spring in her eyes. “I see all these other moms out there and think… I could do that too. Why can’t I do that too?”
Well, mission accomplished. The truth is finally out there. Part of him feels bad for pushing her, but the other part knows that it was doing her no good to keep her feelings bottled up inside to deal with by herself. He reaches out a hand, intending to comfort her, his eyes softening in sympathy. 
“You could. Scully, you’d be the best mom.”
She flinches away, stepping out of his reach. “You don’t know that, Mulder. I can’t even—even my body is even telling me no. Over and over.” She resumes her brisk walk to her car, and he thinks he sees her brush angrily at her face, no doubt wiping away the evidence of the stubborn tears that have managed to escape.
He rushes to get in front of her, walking backwards so he can keep her in his sight. 
“When has that ever stopped you?” he asks. “You had cancer, and you kept fighting. You’re alive today because you refused to give up when your body quit on you. What about that?” He stops abruptly, forcing her to come to a halt before she crashes into him.
There’s no way out of this, is there? Her shoulders slump in defeat.
“You saved me, Mulder,” she admits quietly, shaking her head. “You’re the one who didn’t give up. Not me. It was only because you were with me that I survived.”
This time, when she goes to walk away, he stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The simple touch causes her to freeze, hardly breathing, and when he steps closer, she stays. His hands slide down her shoulders, holding her securely in place to ensure that his next words come through loud and clear.
“I’m gonna be with you here on this too, I promise.” His thumbs brush back and forth on the fabric of her sleeves, for his comfort or hers, she’s not sure. “You can still be a mother, Scully. I’ll help you.”
She shakes her head, her heart feeling like it has been ripped to shreds. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He gives her a little shake for emphasis. She still won’t look at him. “You’ve kept me alive all these years, how much harder could a baby be?”
That gets a breathy chuckle from her, and her head falls to her chest. Groaning with the agony of this burden on her heart, she stops fighting it and leans into him. Without hesitation, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his embrace.
Her hand comes up to find purchase on his suit jacket, relishing in the comfort only he can provide. She’s past caring if anyone sees them like this here. Let them talk. They already do, anyway.
“Well, at least when you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’re not crying,” she speaks into his chest.
She feels him shrug, and can almost see the goofy smile she knows she put on his lips.
“Usually.”
She looks up at him with her chin on his sternum before taking a deep breath and pulling away.
“It's raining,” he says softly, glancing down at her and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “We can go back to the crime scene later.” She nods, unsure what else to say. She allows herself to be led, his ever-present hand brushing against her back as they start toward the basement.
“Adoption,” Scully mutters to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t know, Mulder. This—this is different than IVF. With that, all I was asking for was your…” her eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at him, “genetic material. This is something entirely different.”
He’s pleased she’s at least considering it, but she doesn’t get it at all, if that’s what she thinks.
“How? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, the process of getting a baby is a little different, but in the long run, the result is the same.”
She pauses, looking at him in confusion. “What– what are you saying?”
He runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, suddenly taking a unique interest in his shoes and the floor of the parking structure.
“Yeah, we probably should have talked about this before…”
“Talked about what?”
He sighs and guides her into a stairwell. It’s stuffy and poorly-lit with a flickering lightbulb, but here, there’s less of a chance they’ll be overheard.
“Look, Scully, I don’t know what you had in mind for my involvement beyond contributing to half the baby’s DNA when you first asked me to help you get pregnant,” he starts, fighting hard to meet her eyes instead of shying away. “But, I– I had hoped it would be a little more than ‘Say hi to Uncle Mulder,’ every couple of months.”
She blinks back at him, speechless.
“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with all this, I just—” He takes in a breath. “I guess I got to thinking of what it might be like to have a family again.” His bout of honesty is met with a blank stare, and his nervous smile drops. “I completely misread the situation, didn’t I?” he asks, self-loathing waiting on standby. “Got ahead of myself…”
She stops him by catching his coat sleeve. “No—uh. No, you didn’t.” She collects herself, willing herself to offer him some reassurance. Her fingers release the fabric of his coat, shifting her grasp instead to his hand. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
He glances down at where she holds tightly to him, and his lips curl into some semblance of a smile.
“I guess they might have had a point with all those communication seminars we’ve skipped, huh?”
She chuckles softly.
“I don’t think this is exactly what they had in mind…”
With a gentle tug, Mulder leads her down the stairs, committed to holding her hand as long as she’ll let him. The air is stagnant and silent, only the rhythmic echo of their shoes clicking on the concrete steps as they make their way to the bottom floor.
She’s thinking. What she knows now, it changes everything. 
She had asked him to leave. Hid her grief from him as much as possible after her initial lapse into weakness when she came home with the news. She had almost kissed him, then, unsure of what else she had to live for. She knew she was hurting him by folding inward on herself in the weeks that followed, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. She was in a dark place, hardly able to see what was right in front of her. What she couldn’t see was that his hurt wasn’t just for her, born of some misguided sense of guilt or pity. It was his own, too.
“Mulder, all those months, after it failed—” There’s something like fear in her voice as she utters these words, or maybe regret.
“I was just worried about you.”
She squeezes his hand, feeling tears well in her eyes once more. “No, you were grieving like I was, and I didn’t notice. I pushed you away…”
“Dana…” He turns, a couple steps ahead of her, so for once it’s him who has to look up to meet her eyes. Her lip wobbles as she looks down at him, and he brushes his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. “You had to deal with it on your own, I understood that. I don’t blame you for anything.”
Those eyes. So open and honest and sad. She wonders how anyone could hurt him, could bear to break this man’s heart. How could she? 
Choking back a sob, she falls into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding tight. His arms encircle her back, supporting her weight, and she feels herself being lifted as he goes up a step, closing the distance between them.
His hand climbs up to the back of her head, stroking her hair soothingly.
“I just wanted to be there for you,” he mumbles into her neck.
“You were, Mulder,” she gasps between bouts of tears, finding comfort in the feel of his soft hair between her fingers. “You’ve always been there.”
He pulls back, lifting his hands to cup her face and wiping away the tears he finds there with the pads of his thumbs. 
“You don’t have to give an answer now,” he says, reassuring, “This is… a big commitment, I know, and I don’t want you to say yes just because I suggested it. I just wanted you to know it’s an option, and if you want to have a baby, I’m in. However you want to go about it, I’ll be as involved as you want. Just– let me know, anytime. Okay?”
He’s looking at her now, head ducked so those sad, puppy-dog eyes can get his message across.
She nods, holding tight to the wrists that so tenderly cup her face.
“Okay.”
~~~
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58 notes · View notes
postmodernbeliever · 1 month
Text
not for a second longer - fox mulder x female reader (fluff)
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fox is coming home from a case that's got him missing you like crazy, and you're (im)patiently waiting.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
my ao3 | word count: 3,070
content tags: dorks in love, fox mulder misses you, domestic fox mulder, fluff, domestic fluff, worry, romance, waiting, overthinking, fox is an idiot (/pos), reunited and it feels so good, just soft fluff that's all, cross-posted on ao3, mentions of murder/case material but briefly!
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。
fox felt like if another second passed without hearing your voice, he might go insane, and this was a first- even for a complete lover boy like him. 
the agent has been away on a case for a few days. not much shorter or longer than any other work he’s done, but this time he couldn’t bear being far from home. he’d done everything just as he always does- there were no changes in the routine he’s tailored since he met you. he called every night to let you know he was safe and hear about your day, even if it was late and he woke you up by doing so; he’d remind you to feed his fish, and ask you about that nagging coworker who the two of you nicknamed hannibal because he always brought something creepily edible for lunch (the man ate steak tartare like his life dependent on it, honestly.) and you’d complain, like always, and you’d ask how his case was going, which would lead to him willingly divulging all kinds of classified information just for fun. you’d offer advice if you could. you weren’t as invested in the paranormal as he was, but you’d had your share of spooky stories, so your middle-of-the-road perspective helped at times. the phone call was always the same, but it didn’t matter what you talked about. he just wanted to hear your voice as badly as you did his, and it put you both at ease. so he called. 
like clockwork, fox admired the engraved backside of his watch before he fell asleep every night, where it said don’t keep me waiting. it was an inside joke that sparked when you’d first started dating. fox warned you up and down about how dangerous his job can be, how he’s been injured and in and out of hospitals and how multiple criminals are likely sitting on plans for his murder if they ever break out of incarceration. he prepared to see you get overwhelmed and leave him due to the potential stress; yet when he packed up for his first case, you kissed him softly, no fear to be felt, and told him not to keep you waiting because you couldn’t promise to keep his fishes alive while he was gone. the watch was last christmas’ gift, and he never took it off, especially when he was away. 
fox even kept with his dorky tradition of taking one of the many shirts you’d left at his apartment and sleeping with it under his pillow, where he could hold onto it and feel like he at least had a piece of you while he was alone. when you found out he did such a thing, you teased him brutally, and then you began leaving clothes in every corner of the apartment for him to save. and you left your spare perfume bottle in his bathroom cabinet, so he could concentrate them with you. 
the man took all the cheesiest precautions to make his work out of state bearable until he could solve the damned things and get back home, but even with all of his bases covered, it wasn't enough. something felt different this time. coming back to a motel every night, like he had for his whole career before he met you, was torture. every moment of the case strung him farther out. now, if you’d asked the lovely and level-headed dana scully why fox was so eager to be done with the case, she would’ve given you a plain and simple explanation: the two were investigating a string of seemingly unrelated murders by men unto their girlfriends, but fox had a suspicion that some kind of entity persuaded each man to kill the girl who kept their beds warm. and with every day that they didn’t track the cause down, he felt the pressing weight of your safety and how much he cared for you, and it was making him- as scully would kindly put it, of course- act out extremely irrationally. even you could put two and two together there, but he’d been a bit avoidant over the phone about this one job, so you didn’t know. fox refused to think about you in connection to the work, though, because to allow his brain to cross its signals and imagine you and him as victim and suspect (as a paranoid brain might) would just be stupid. but whether he meant to think of you or not, everything was putting him on edge by association, and he was itching to see you happy and healthy and still his. 
by the time fox deciphered that the newest date-night romantic comedy at the local movie theater was having midnight showings, and the ticket booth operator was a twenty-five year old involuntary celebate who was admitting loving couples into the place and watching them make out right in front of his jealous eyes, the case was a one-and-done. scully didn’t buy that the employee was telekinetically causing the boyfriends to kill, but the kid got shot in a police chase, so fox was left to his conclusions and she to hers. and he couldn’t drag her ass out of town fast enough. fox was two hours early to the airport. he bounced his leg on the entire flight home, and scully barely got a “see you tomorrow” out by the time he hailed a cab and ordered the driver to his address. 
his gut was twisting itself in knots, hoping you’d be home. you practically lived with him by how much time you spent at his apartment; the truth was that he was away so often, and you just couldn’t sleep unless you could curl up in his bed, with his pillows and blankets and wearing his clothes, and let everything that belonged to him comfort you until you got the man back himself. he knew you’d be there- it was nearly one in the morning. but still, after all this time staring at dead girls and thinking about how in love they were with the trusted boys who slit their throats, he just wanted to collect you into his arms and keep you there. 
you were wide awake because you knew he was on his way. you stayed up all night watching all the classic movies he had on tape, glancing at the clock, trying to stop obsessing over the unlikely crash of his plane. you were standing in his little kitchen, watching the tea kettle boil and listening to the fuzzy transatlantic accents yapping a room away, when the front door of the apartment swung open. 
you didn’t even have time to leave the kitchen. fox threw his bags down like a child and scurried to you, engulfing you in his arms; he drew your body snugly into his and buried his face in your shoulder. he was squeezing the air from your lungs, but you didn’t mind. you combed your fingers through his moussed-up hair, breaking up the curated clumps and reminding it of how it naturally fell against his head. he smelled just as he did when he left, like his ralph lauren polo green- minty and smoky, and so much himself. his soft leather jacket hung onto the smell of his taxi, but you ignored the staleness and inhaled the good stuff. 
“i missed you so much,” fox sighed. the man showered you with kisses all over your neck and jaw, traveling up the valleys of your cheeks to make sure he got your eyes and nose and forehead, too. you squirmed playfully and swatted at his hands, but he only smiled and fought you off.
“jeez, it’s like you thought i died or something!” you giggled. 
fox’s eyes flashed with something that looked like momentary worry, and then it was gone- replaced with a warmth you’d missed more than you realized the past few days. his arms were around you again, this time much gentler, and he asked, “you feel safe with me, don’t you?”
“what? fox, why would you even ask that? of course i do,”
“you know i’d never hurt you,”
“baby, you’re the only person in the world i feel safe with.” you promised, petting the back of his head softly, smoothing the hair down his neck. with both hands, you lifted his face from your shoulder and brought his face close, so you could look right into his ruminative eyes. the man smiled as your thumbs caressed the stubble growing in on his cheeks, those rounded teeth poking out beneath his top lip the way you adored. your chest fluttered, and you couldn’t help but return the gesture. 
“are you okay, baby?” you asked, knocking your forehead against his playfully. 
the man dipped his neck low and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. somehow it felt more intimate than if he’d truly kissed you; like by being an inch off base, he was saying more than the real thing could. he always did things like that, such small gestures that would go unnoticed if he was any other guy and you were any other girl, but every move fox made was conscious. each one was a choice that meant something. kissing you in such a way wasn’t a mistake, it was purposeful- he was proving his allegiance, ruling your mouth was more sacred and deserved to be earned. he was poetic in that respect, you knew it, and it made every hair on your body stand up. maybe that’s why you shifted your position and locked him in a normal kiss- a forceful one, at that. to remind him that you were nothing sacred, just someone who desperately loved him. 
you’d missed the way his lips molded to yours, the familiar chapped patches that came from his nervous biting, the way his scruff scratched your chin. you even missed the feeling of his breath as it blew out of his nose and across your face, warm and frequent, because he always seemed to breathe faster when you got close, like a teenage boy. you kissed him hard, letting your hands fall down his chest and press against his abdomen, remembering the sculpted curves of his stomach beneath his t-shirt. fox’s lips curled upwards as you touched him, and in those few moments of your neediness, he was sure you meant what you said before- that you truly did feel safe with him. 
when he pulled away, he brought the pad of his thumb to your plump bottom lip, holding you by the chin. “i’ve been going crazy without you, you know.”
“so have-” you began, but were cut off by the sudden screeching of the forgotten kettle behind you. both fox and yourself jumped, and you rushed to twist the knob on the stove, shutting the thing up in frustration. “sorry.”
“it’s okay,” the agent chuckled.
“you want some?” 
“only if you bring it over to the couch for me,” fox said, batting his eyelashes jokingly. 
“what am i, your mother?” you countered.
fox rolled his eyes and pressed another kiss to your lips, rebutting, “no, but you do love me, don’t you?”
“oh, shut up. go unpack.”
you listened to his footsteps as he went to retrieve his bags and haul them to his bedroom. smiling to yourself, you waited to hear him open the door and laugh. every time he came home, you left his bed an unruly mess and accumulated as many water cups on his nightstand as possible, and he had a love-hate relationship with it (mostly love, because he adored the idea of you living in his space.) a full-bodied sound came from the other side of the apartment, a hearty one, and a voice called, “impressive collection you’ve got in here!”
with two steeping cups of oolong you walked slowly back to fox’s living room, where his copy of vertigo had rewinded to the start. you settled into the couch, putting your feet up on the coffee table and watching jimmy stewart dangle from a drainpipe as you awaited your boyfriend’s return. it always took him a little while to unpack because it was more like repacking- he would swap out all his worn clothes with new ones and throw everything in the hamper, and he had to take out all his necessities only to keep them somewhere easy for him to grab come the next time work sends him away. you were used to waiting for him, but how he acted tonight was making you impatient. 
when fox was finally done and changed into a clean shirt and pajama pants, he headed towards the hallway to come and sit with you. but he paused when he came to the corner, making his steps quiet, so he could take a look at you undisturbed. you were slouched on his old, rickety couch, in clothes all belonging to him; a pair of old gray sweatpants that hugged your thighs, given they were a bit bigger than his skinny ones, his old oxford long sleeve that has a hole in the neck, and a frumpy blue grandpa-style cardigan he hasn’t worn in years. your hair was tucked away in an unraveling braid, with little locks fanning like leaves across the apples of your cheeks. your chipped nails cradled the mug in your palms, and the colors from the box television danced in the reflection of your chunky tortoiseshell glasses. he imagined you sitting like this while he was off on a case, at home in his home, watching his movies and wondering about him like he did of you late at night. you were so pretty and so important that he felt the love buzzing in his fingertips and toes.
the man came around the corner and sat down cautiously on the couch so as not to spill your tea. your face softened at his arrival, and you leaned forward to place your cup down and clamber back to him, throwing your arms around his neck. fox hoisted you onto his lap despite your objections, and he hugged you tighter. he just didn’t feel like letting you go tonight, it seemed. 
“did you eat?” you asked, looking down into those puppy eyes that gazed up. 
“a little while ago.”
“how long was a little while ago?”
“...ten o'clock this morning?” fox grinned sheepishly.
“fox! aren’t you starving? let me go heat something up, i got chinese last night-”
“shh, no, not yet,” he grabbed your hips as you tried to get off of him, “don’t go anywhere yet. sit for a minute.”
“but-”
“no buts. just sit with me a little longer and then i promise i’ll eat, okay?”
you sighed, only half-aggravated, and nodded softly. “alright, fine.”
you rested your head in the crook of his neck, your shoulder pressed to his; he twisted you a bit so you had a chance to look at the tv and sit on him at the same time. fox’s fingers traced mindless shapes against the fabric of his sweatpants on your knee, finally at ease. you stole a glance at him from the side and admired the way even his harshest features seemed to curve softly; his square jaw melted into his neck, his aquiline nose a pretty protrusion alongside his lashes that curled wildly. you always thought his face was the most deserving of marble preservation, far more than those ancient guys. 
“you're missing the movie,” he flushed. 
“i already watched it tonight.” 
the man nuzzled your forehead like a puppy, feeling his stomach flip as your palm rested flat against his chest. you snuggled right up to him and let out a heavy breath you didn’t know you were holding. the two of you sat quietly for a while, taking turns watching each other and remembering what it felt like to be close, and you were half-asleep in the comfort of his arms when his stomach growled and woke you up.
“i’m gonna go make you something,” you chuckled.
“awh, come on, you were just about to sleep!” he whined.
“fox, i want you to eat. once you have a little something then i’ll climb right back on you, promise,” you teased, pushing up off the couch.
“whatever,” he groaned, but there was a toothy smile behind the complaint, so you took it well. 
fox watched as you sauntered off to the kitchen, and he called after you, “hey, wait,”
“what?”
the man hopped off the couch and scrambled to the doorway, where you were only feet from the refrigerator. he stooped down and planted a smooch to your forehead, muttering an, “i love you.”
“just can’t leave my side now, hm?” you nudged fox’s nose with your own and gave him a look so fond it nearly melted him into a puddle on the kitchen tile. “i love you more. now beat it, spooky.”
“hey!”
“shush. go sit down and i’ll make it up to you later.”
‘you’re bossy,” fox crossed his arms, leaning against the wood molding and watching you move towards the fridge.
“well, if you’re not gonna leave, then at least get a pan for me to heat this rice up in, would you?” you ordered, shaking the day-old fried rice container in his face.
“anything for you, darling.”
being without each other could feel impossible at times. no matter how he tried, no set routine could recreate the feeling of falling asleep beside you; nor could any amount of his laundry could conjure fox himself to send you off to work with a kiss every morning. his work made it easy to miss him. but moments like this, where he watched you make him a late-night snack that he would share with you, were the moments that made all the waiting worth it. and the moments that will come after, too- the couch that was waiting for you both to come back to, where you’d fall asleep with your face against his neck, and where he’d fall asleep watching you breathe. nobody knew that absence makes the heart grow fonder more intimately than you two did. but even with that in mind, neither of you cared about that right now. 
he was simply thankful to be with you, the one he called home; thankful that he didn’t have to be without you for a second longer, and so were you.
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