#sleeping on the couch

[atths--twice]

Germs and All

After attending a conference, Scully falls ill. Not wanting to be alone, and missing Mulder, she heads to his apartment.

I've been fighting through a cold the past few days. As a result, I've had extra time on my hands as I've been resting. Because of this, my mind wanders to MSR more than usual. I love stories where they take care of each other and so, I've written this little fic.

Hope you enjoy. 💓

Scully woke up, her mouth dry and nose stuffy. Groaning, she rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock before closing her eyes in the gray light. Opening her eyes again, she looked back at the clock as she drew in a breath. 

11:30. 

It was eleven thirty? 

Sitting up, she looked around the room and then picked up her watch to be sure the time was correct. 

11:30. 

“Oh, God,” she whined softly as she fell back onto the pillows, sniffling deeply. “How is it so late?” 

Rain hit the windows and she sighed as she sat up again and laid her watch back beside her half drunk cup of tea. Pushing herself up, she groaned again, her body aching. 

Stumbling to the bathroom, she used the toilet, washed her hands and brushed her teeth. Staring at her reflection, she sighed and made a face before turning off the light and leaving the room. 

Shivering, she grabbed the comforter off of the bed and wrapped it around herself as she groaned again and opened the bedroom door. 

Pausing just past the doorway, she looked to her right and saw Mulder sitting on his couch, smiling at her. 

“Hello,” he said and she frowned with another groan. “I take it you’re not feeling better.” 

“It’s eleven thirty,” she complained and he nodded, glancing at his watch. 

“Nearly quarter till twelve now,” he said and she whined. 

“Why did you let me sleep so long?” she asked, kicking the comforter back from her feet as she walked over to him. 

“Let you?” he asked with a chuckle, as she sat on the end of the couch with a huff and then laid down, her head resting against his thigh. 

“I’m tired,” she complained, letting out a deep breath. “And my nose is stuffy.”

“I know,” he said, his fingers rubbing her head and running through her hair. “Well, about the stuffy nose anyway.” 

“I slept all night. How am I still tired?” she whined and he chuckled again. 

“You have a cold, Scully.” 

“Mmmm,” she moaned with a frown. “This is all Skinner’s fault. I didn’t want to go to that stupid conference. He made me.” 

“Hmm,” Mulder hummed, his fingers rubbing her neck. 

“That feels good,” she whispered, her eyes closing. 

“Skinner wasn’t sick,” he mused and she sighed heavily. 

“No. But someone there was and I got it from them. You didn’t go, so you’re fine.” 

“I won’t be in a couple of days, seeing as you brought all the germs with you. This place is ground zero now. The bedroom in particular is highly contaminated.” 

“I know. I should’ve gone home,” she admitted with a nod. “I just…” 

“I was just teasing,” he said, his thumb pressing firmer into her neck and causing her to moan. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Even though I’ve…” She sniffled deeply and let out a deep breath. “God. Even though I’ve brought the plague upon you?” 

“It’s just a cold,” he said, laughing softly. 

“Feels worse.” 

“You say that every time you’re sick.” 

“Because it does. It always does,” she whined, breathing through her mouth as her nose had become far too stuffy. 

“I’ll get you some medicine,” he said, scratching her scalp lightly and moving gently from the couch. “You want anything to eat?” She moaned and shook her head. “Tea?” She shook her head again and he chuckled softly. “Okay, just the medicine.” 

She nodded as she burrowed into the comforter, finding a more comfortable position. 

A kiss was pressed to her temple and she smiled. 

“Even full of germs, and wrapped like a mummy, you’re adorable,” he whispered, kissing her again before he left the room. 

She smiled and then coughed, groaning as she shook her head. The comforter was pulled even closer and she took a stuffy breath. 

“Hey,” Mulder said and she opened her eyes. “Here’s the medicine and some water. You need to sit up to take it and the cough syrup.” 

“I hate cough syrup,” she grumbled and he hummed as he helped her sit up. 

“I know,” he said, handing her the syringe in his hand. 

“You like using this, don’t you?” she asked, putting the syringe in her mouth and pressing the plunger, swallowing the medicine quickly. Making a face, she took a sip of the water he offered. 

“I do. I’m glad you gave it to me,” he said, smiling as he handed her two large liquid filled pills. “These should help too.” 

She took them and placed them into her mouth, swallowing them with the rest of the water in the glass. Pouting, she handed the glass back to him and then coughed, turning her head to avoid coughing directly on him. 

“I’ll get you some more water,” he said as she coughed again. She laid back down with a moan, cursing that stupid conference. 

It had been monotonous, uninspiring, and lonely without Mulder with her. And then the last night there, she had felt the telltale signs of a cold brewing as her throat was scratchy when she swallowed. 

Waking up to a stuffy nose and achy body, the flight home had been miserable. Hailing a cab, she had given the driver Mulder’s address, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the window. 

When she had made her way to his door, her suitcase feeling exceptionally heavy and clumsy, she swayed as she knocked twice and waited. 

His happy smile had vanished at the sight of her, concern quickly replacing it. 

“I don’t feel so good,” she had said, pitching forward and falling into his arms. 

“Aw, Scully,” he had whispered, pulling her and her bag inside. 

He had brought her into his room, turned on the shower to warm up, and helped her undress. 

While she had been in the shower, he had changed his sheets, found some clothes for her to wear, and made her some tea. 

When she had dressed in one of his long sleeved shirts and a pair of cuffed sweatpants with the drawstring pulled as far as it could go, he had sat her down on his bed and blown her hair dry as she moaned repeatedly, her eyes closed. 

When he had finished, he brushed her hair and kissed her on the forehead. 

“Why don’t you lay down and I’ll go get you some medicine?” he had asked and she had nodded. “Come on, come and lay down.” 

He had helped her up and led her to the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers and then tucking her in once she had laid down, her head pounding. 

“I’ll be back soon. Rest.” He had kissed her head twice, ran a hand down her side, and whispered goodbye as he left. 

He had woken her to take some medicine, sitting with her until she had fallen back to sleep, stroking her hair as he spoke quietly about his last couple of days without her. 

She had woken throughout the night, his arm around her waist or fingers locked with her own, her nose stuffy and head still aching. 

“Hey,” he said softly and she opened her eyes, looking up at him. “Do you want some more water? Luckily, I found a bendy straw so now you don’t have to sit up.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, nodding slightly. “I’ll have a little bit. Thank you.” He sat on the coffee table and held the glass and straw for her as she took a few sips. 

“Feeling any better at all?” he asked and she sighed as she pulled back from the glass of water. 

“Not at the moment,” she said, closing her eyes and sighing again. 

“Well, hopefully that medicine will help soon. I brought over another box of tissues and a paper bag for the used ones. Do you need anything else?” 

“No, not right now. Thank you,” she said, attempting to breathe through her nose and giving up to take a deep breath through her mouth. “I’m just so tired.” 

“Rest, Scully,” he said, kissing her temple again, the glass of water set on the coffee table. 

And she did, dozing in and out as he sat on the couch beside her, his fingers in her hair or resting on her shoulder. She heard baseball being announced, the crack of a bat, and organ music playing. Then she heard the dialogue of a movie as she turned over and sighed, the comforter tucked around her when she did. 

“Thank you,” she breathed and he hummed as his fingers rubbed her scalp again and she fell back to sleep. 

Her bladder woke her and she moaned as she stirred, extricating herself from her comforter cocoon. 

“I ordered some food,” Mulder said as she stretched and rolled her neck. “Matzo ball and chicken noodle soup. Waiting for you, whenever you’re ready.”

“That sounds good,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Not sure how much I’ll be able to eat.” 

“I know. But you haven’t eaten anything all day. You need something.” 

“Okay. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” 

When she came out of the bedroom, she was wearing one of his hoodies, as she had lost the warmth of the comforter. She had also put on a pair of his thick socks and pulled her hair back into a small ponytail. Yawning, she padded to the dining room and sat down. 

A small bowl of matzo ball soup had been placed at her spot, the spoon resting inside of it. She smiled at the sight of the cut up matzo ball, making it easier to eat. Glancing up, she watched him walk in with his own bowl of soup and a plate of sliced bread. 

“You cut my matzo ball,” she said with a sniffle as she reached for her spoon. 

“Yeah, I did,” he said, setting his stuff down and sitting beside her. “Easier and quicker for you to eat.” 

“Thank you,” she said, filling her spoon with broth and a piece of matzo. 

They sat in silence as they ate, Scully taking her time to eat as much of the soup as she could. 

“I can’t taste any of this,” she said, shaking her head, leaving her spoon down in the bowl. “Not one bit, but I’m sure it’s really good.” 

“It is,” he said and she nodded as she pushed the bowl from in front of her. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, watching him finish his bowl of soup. He smiled at her and she smiled back, suddenly overwhelmed with affection for him. “I love you.” 

He stopped eating and stared at her, his smile growing. 

“I know I’ve told you before, but I just wanted to say it again,” she said, sniffing and letting out a deep breath. 

He set his spoon in his bowl and made to move towards her, his hands reaching out. 

“No,” she said, putting up a hand. “Contagious, remember?” 

“Ground zero, remember?” he asked, his hands now cradling her face as he smiled. “The damage has been done. Therefore, a kiss on the lips won’t cause any harm.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes as his lips met hers. 

He kissed her gently, his thumbs slowly rubbing against her cheeks as she hummed again. Needing air, she pulled back slightly and drew in a breath, before his lips were on hers again.  

“I love you too,” he whispered, kissing her one more time. Smiling as he pulled back, his thumbs stroking along her cheeks. “Germs and all.” 

“Ha ha,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at him. “Ugh. I think I need to lay down.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed, moving his hands from her face. “Let me clean this up and get you some more medicine. Then bed.” 

She waited at the table for him as he quickly cleaned up. More cough syrup and pills were brought to her along with a glass of ice water. She took it all with only minimal complaints, thanking him with a nod. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” 

He led her through the apartment, turning the lights off behind them. He grabbed the comforter and followed her into his room. 

She went into the bathroom, used the toilet, washed her hands, and brushed her teeth. 

Mulder had put the comforter back on the bed and pulled back the covers on her side once again. Waiting while she laid down, he tucked her in and kissed her head. 

“Be right back,” he said and she hummed as she closed her eyes. 

When he finally laid down, she was nearly asleep, but she opened her eyes to look at him and give him a small smile. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she reached for his hand. 

“That’s why you came here, isn’t it?” he asked softly, kissing her knuckles. “Knowing you were ill? Wanting to be cared for?” 

“Yes and no,” she said, moving closer to him. 

“How’s that?” he asked and she opened her eyes again.  

“I missed you. I wanted to see you,” she said, her eyes rolling back as she shut them again. “I didn’t plan on being sick. I just missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” he whispered, pulling her close. “I’m glad you came over.” 

“Germs and all?” she asked, her words slightly slurred. 

“Yes. Germs and all,” he assured her, kissing her forehead and whispering his love for her as she fell asleep, held safely in his arms. 

[nacregames]

How do the Ros react when MC sleeps on the couch for the first time after an argument? It's not a relationship ending one but enough that both parties are still kinda grumpy.

can't sleep the whole night, wondering whether MC is feeling comfortable/mad at them; kinda afraid to have another argument so they'd rather let MC have their space:

Polly, Mac, Mercy

can't sleep either, but too stubborn to apologize:

Candy

MC clearly needs some space. won't be sleeping tho:

Gab

it's 50/50 chance whether or not they're ask MC to bed or just leave them be:

Falito, Chal

would apologize and gently coax MC into sleeping in the bed:

Lei, Ara

doesn't like staying mad for too long and will eventually crawl up to MC and ask them to come to the bed. will probably sleep on top of them if they refuse:

Mel, Arrow

would cry a lot and eventually earn some pity from MC (probably):

Lilith

mad as hell, but would rather sleep on the couch themselves instead of MC and would def haul them into the bed if they're too stubborn:

Clay

sleeps like a fucking baby and has no shits to give. it's just a couch, they won't die lol:

Camus

[youarenogood]

rule

Hey, Tumblrettes, Tumblrpersons, Tumblrinas? Wtf do we call you, anyways? I'm following the r/196 rule of old by reblogging and just writing "rule" & tagging the word rule & 196 and/or anything else it may be pertaining to. Is this the thing to do so I don't dirty the carpet or stain the couch while I'm here, or?

[kryolf]

i love animals, all are fun and lovely, til it's a hornet at 00:36 in my room

[sirlonius]

Why does the sleep I get when I fall asleep on the couch feel so superior to the sleep I get in my bed? 🤔

[onlydragonsmaychange]

Falling asleep is a lot like having an orgasm in that both are a lot easier when you're not thinking about them.

[jfkkenndy]

need the world to know how much it means to me when james wilson wears his cozy clothes

[spoksstuff]

Home 🏠❤️‍🩹

all credits to the original artist @zaerxa on X, ig & tumblr

[tanuandthetriplets]

When Ants Attacked Triplet Dad! | Triplets Vlog 31st May'23

[cryptidclownz]

[houseswife]

[oceantornadoo]

quiet hours (john price x f!reader)

there is a power dynamic but it’s discussed, price is a major simp, some time jumps

—

price’s office couch. a brown and beaten thing, a comfortable touch on the side of his desk. john himself had never used it, but kept it from the office’s last occupant, a buffer in case someone tried to cross over to his side of the room. that was, of course, before you.

it started when your leg was injured. he let you prop up your leg on the couch and somewhere during the twenty minute mark of your conversation, you fell asleep. any other solider and john would have reprimanded them, tossed them out, but you looked so peaceful, soft lips parted slightly. he left you a note, come back anytime, not wanting to risk the sting of rejection to his face.

it became your ritual. you didn’t sleep well at night but as a high ranking SAS member, you had some freedom in your daily schedule for occasional naps. he liked hearing your soft sighs as he worked, going so far as to keep a silk pillow for you when he heard you complain about your hair on leather. you chatted or you didn’t, always leaving with a small smile and “thanks, cap.”

even the rest of base knew 3-5pm were quiet hours, a small sign posted on his door. the couch wasn’t big and with the angle of the door, most people didn’t even realize you were in there when they popped in to ask a question. john guarded you like a dragon with his jewels, chewing out recruits for being too loud, never explaining your presence to anyone.

right now, you were sound asleep, your small sighs like john’s personal soundtrack to heaven. simon had knocked silently, asking some important question about an upcoming mission, and john huffed with annoyance knowing he had to leave you. he got out of his chair, carefully so it wouldn’t squeak, and made his way over to you. squatting down, he rubbed a gentle hand over your face, tracing your relaxed cheekbones and brow. “sweetheart, i have t’ go. be back in few.” you whimpered, eyes fluttering, half drunk on sleep. “you’re leaving?” he shook his head, leaning in so his forehead touched your own. his hand slid towards your neck and brought you closer, practically a kiss. the comfort of it was delicious and you let out a contented sigh. “jus’ for a bit. go back to sleep, bub.” he peeled back, evaluating what kind of captain he was. apparently not a very good one as he kissed your forehead before getting up, the skin on skin contact rushing through his bones like electricity.

simon was waiting patiently outside, his relaxed look menacing to the passing recruits. he fell into step with price easily, walking towards their favored meeting spot. “tellin’ her soon?” john shook his head, dragging an exhausted hand down his face. tell you what? that you were strong and lovely and the most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen, on and off the battlefield? that the only way he slept at night was imagining your own sleepy sighs? that for some idiotic reason, there was a ring burning a hole in his sock dresser? “too soon, lieutenant.” simon huffed, the glint of a smirk under his mask. “been half a year, cap. jus’ sayin’.” john fought the urge to run back to his office, to make sure no one bothered you. “she’s just sleepin’ there, nothin’ special.” simon side eyed him, noting the stress lines and crow’s feet on his captain’s face. “i’ll tell johnny ‘s nothin’ special then. heard he’s interested.”

john prided himself on keeping his emotions in check. it was one of the revered traits of his captain position, the glue to the team. in that moment however, stopped mid stride at his lieutenant’s words, shoulders bunching and fists tightening, he wanted to kill half his team. “you will do no such thing, lieutenant. that’s an order.” simon clapped him on the shoulder with his short barking laugh, amusement dancing in his eyes. “roger that.”

—

“i don’t know gaz, do you really think he likes me?” gaz had popped in to price’s for a question but you were there instead, half awake and confused. he liked the couch too, tucking himself at the far end and pulling your socked feet into his lap. “‘ve never seen cap let anyone else sleep here. if that’s not a sign, don’t know what is.” you rolled your eyes, keeping them on the ceiling. “well i’ve been sleeping here almost six months and got a forehead kiss to show for it.” gaz froze, his hands stilling on your ankle. “you’re takin’ the piss.” as if. “am not! happened fifteen minutes ago and i’ve been overanalyzing it since.” gaz tried to reason how two of the smartest people he knew were such idiots. “darling, you’re practically married now. i’ve never seen-“ the door swung open, john’s strides minutely faltering when he saw gaz on the couch. “back to work, garrick. close the door behind you.” gaz acknowledged him with a nod and suddenly price was in his place, drawing your feet on the top of his legs.

“everyone wants a piece of you, don’t they?” it was nonsensical, what he murmured, almost to himself. you pressed your feet into his thigh until he got the memo, strong hands circling your ankles and pulling them into his lap. “what do you mean, cap? gaz was just visiting.” he hummed a non reply, fingers tracing the scar of where your foot injury used to be. “this all better?” your brows furrowed at the change in topic, nodding your head on instinct. “right as rain, sir.” his thumb, callused and strong, was pressing into your ankle now. it was like john was in a trance, fully focused on your worn socks, refusing to look at your face. “how long have you been sleepin’ here with a perfectly fine foot, sergeant?” your mouth dropped, confusion clouding your brain. “i- bout four months, sir. i sleep better here than my own bed.” he finally turned his head, his dark blue gaze searing into you. “why’s that?” it was barely loud enough for you to hear it, croaked out with a herculean effort. “because you’re here. i don’t, don’t really know why. you’re comforting and safe and smell nice…” you trailed off at the last bit, cheeks warming in embarrassment.

john tucked himself in and laughed, the air from his lungs brushing over your ankles. you answered with a small giggle, still unsure about your blunder. “whole time it was my smell keepin’ you here. way to kill a man’s ego, sweetheart.” you grinned, sitting up on your elbows. you pressed your foot into the side of his face, forcing him to look at you instead of his lap. “it’s you, john. keeping me here.” the temperature dropped, his ministrations froze. all you did was look, your eyes wide and pleading. begging him to just see, see why you kept coming back like his own personal lapdog.

you were moving, john tugging you closer by the ankles, strong hands moving up your calves until the rest of you was right there. he fixed the awkward angle by leaning down, one hand propped near your head, the other coming down to stroke your cheek. “say it’s true.” his eyes were still searching for something, so rare for you to see your captain look so unsure. “this couch isn’t even that comfortable so trust me, it’s true.” you had hoped humor would lighten the situation but your murmured truth made the air heavier, your heaving chest almost touching his own. “i’m too old for you.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re like four years older, get a grip.” he pinched your cheek, muttering cheeky under his breath. “i’m your captain.” your own hand came up on instinct, fingers finally touching the beard you dreamed about. the strands were soft but slightly scratchy, like he had a routine he occasionally forgot. “you’re john price. anyone who knows you knows that you won’t give me special treatment. i’ll run extra laps everyday.” your fingers were exploring now, thumb running down the bridge of his nose to the top of his lips. you both shuffled without realizing, your legs on either side of his torso, cradling his hips. his forearms bracketed your face, caging you in.

“i don’t love lightly. no friends with benefits or any of that bullshit.” you drew him in closer, one foot on his lower back until your pelvises kissed. “good. i want a man who can commit.” whatever he had been looking for, he found in your wide eyed gaze. “i’m…out of excuses.”

the kiss wiped out john’s memory of any kiss before it. it was slow and possessive, a claiming. six months of you just out of his reach would drive any man to this point, john reasoned. that’s why he took his time, exploring every angle and pressure point, searching for those breathy sighs you always made. he didn’t have to do much - one nip of the lip and you were singing for him, melting into his arms. you wrapped them around his neck, pulling him deeper. by this time next year, i’m proposing. john let the thought grow wings and fly, content to explore your touch as he wondered about white wedding cake and matching rings.

—

years later, no matter how you both decided to decorate your new house together, he insisted on a brown couch for his office. something hideous and comfortable, not matching the decor at all. something just for the two of you.

- -

price intimacy brainrot (i’m PMSing)

[halorvic]

🐌🥳

[kikipancakes]

Worrywart

[diioonysus]

sleep + art

[devilspastorson]

PLZ THAT WAS SO OUT OF POCKET