Fox Mulder x Female!Reader Blurb
͙͘͡★ walks through forest preserves on unmarked paths in oversized rain jackets, fighting off swarms of bugs and humidity
⋆ “we’re going to get malaria out here,” you mumble, swatting a buzzing mosquito
⋆ “if we’re lucky,” fox grins
͙͘͡★ wearing his white dress shirts to bed, buttons undone at the collar and your navel
⋆ fox unbuttoning it the rest of the way with slow, warm hands in the middle of the night with you under the jersey sheets
͙͘͡★ taking his glasses off while you’re kissing
͙͘͡★ pumpkin patches in the fall
⋆ grainy Polaroids of him holding a pumpkin in one hand, mouth pressed in a reluctant smile because no one’s cared to get a picture of him like this since he was kid, and the feeling’s overwhelming
⋆ carving said pumpkin together
⋆ listening to his incessant lore and rambles about Halloween, waving the serrated pumpkin knife in his hand, spewing intelligence on the creatures of the night, serial killers from the 70’s and 80’s
͙͘͡★ laying on the couch, his head nestled into your chest in the low lamplight while you read esoteric books like The Occult, Chaos, The UFO Experience, The Exorcist Files, Strange Energies & Hidden Powers and he chimes in with his own theories, disapprovals, and firsthand encounters with the third kind
͙͘͡★ watching black and white films on a rainy day, the apartment lit by pillar candles, the oven still radiating heat from the chocolate chip cookies you made from scratch
⋆ his lounge-mussed hair, the cookie crumb on his soft bottom lip, the wry little smile he gives when he catches you staring
⋆ the end days in long tangled limbs, forgotten movies, and the couch creaking its protest
͙͘͡★ waking up in the middle of the night to find him gone. not gone-gone, but… out of bed.
⋆ you go to the balcony, where you know you’ll find him
⋆ he sits on the ground, long legs folded, head tipped up towards the sky, the city light hiding what’s up there looking back at him
⋆ neither of you say anything. you already know. he knows you know. it’s okay that you see, that you’re here
⋆ you sit on the ground beside him, planks cold on your rear, but Fox’s side is warm and welcoming and he wraps you in an arm like he’s scared they might beam you away, too
͙͘͡★ fox brings you back a new kitschy t-shirt from every case that leads him out of town
͙͘͡★ as a gag, you get him a sticker
⋆ his brows shoot up, reading it again, three times for good measure
⋆ amusement brightening his face, mouth fighting an upward turn, he says, “mothman is a harbinger of misfortune. what depraved purpose would eating ass serve?”
⋆ you shrug, “death omens need to have a little fun, too,” you guess
͙͘͡★ late night walks to the library, fingers loosely laced as you stroll along, neither of you in a hurry to end the night so quickly
