Fishtaccos
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March was an expert at getting on Healy's nerves.
That's how they ended up here, in Healy's sorry excuse for a— how March had put it —living room, with March on his stomach and Healy above him, one knee digging into his spine.
Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
08 Jul 2026
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Healy thinks he’s especially beautiful like this though. When those blue eyes go all wide like a deer caught in the headlights, scenting of sun-drenched, ripe nectarines and peach sorbet, a hint of honey mixed in with it all, heavy and cloying. He’s wearing one of Jackson’s shirts, drenched in the fabric and not much else, those long, long legs on display. Close to his heat, Jackson notes in the back of his head– they’re regulated now that he's not drinking like a fish and on heavy, damn near military grade suppressants. Oh, and he’s holding Healy’s keys. Huh.
Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
07 Jul 2026
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March has an affliction for keeping his mouth occupied.
Healy has become plagued by the thought of putting that pout to better use and of shutting him up with something bigger than a cigarette.
Healy decides to go to a club to curb the distraction.
Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
04 Jul 2026
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Holland’s eyes flick over his face, and a faint pink blush appears on his cheeks. It’s utterly adorable. Jack has never wanted to kiss him so badly.
“Good to see you awake, Mr. March!” booms a jovial voice from the doorway. Holland flinches back, yanking his hand away from Jackson’s.
It’s stupid, but it hurts. He’s stupid. He’s in love.
Five times Jackson Healy wanted to kiss Holland March, and one time he finally does.
Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
02 Jul 2026
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Holland tossed his suit jacket in the back of Healy’s car. “Should we go to the hospital or something? Maybe this was like, a secret chemical weapon from-”
“March, if you try to tell me that Hitler made powder that makes you horny I'm going to break your other arm.”
(aka healymarch sex pollen)Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
02 Jul 2026