Skelly

Trying to (1) be comfortable doing things that are uncomfortable and (2) use creativity as an outlet. Fuck AI!

[idfkhowtowrite]

I wanna preface this entire blog by saying I can’t write for shit I’m just having fun here. I expect nothing from this and you should too. Feedback welcome!

[idfkhowtowrite]

At the Bedside (masc!gf x fem!reader)

Your head is throbbing. Your bedroom is pitch black, and you're lying on your stomach. Every cough you take rattles the mucus in your lungs, but you resist the urge to cough, fearing the sharp pain that it would bring. Your muscles ache, and no matter how you toss and turn you’re unable to find relief.

Getting your ass handed to you by the flu is not how you’d hoped to spend the first week in you and your girlfriend's new apartment. You can hear Morgan unpacking by herself in the other room, and guilt washes over you. You’d tried several times this morning to get up and make yourself useful, but every time she’d ushered you straight back into bed. She insisted you needed the rest, which wasn’t untrue.

Still, you felt awful. Physically and now emotionally. As hard as you’d tried to take a nap, you just couldn’t fall asleep.

Every part of you felt so uncomfortable, how could you rest?

The bedroom door opens and the light brings another wave of pain to your head. You groan softly and press your face into the mattress. The door shuts again and the bed dips down. You feel your girlfriend’s cold fingers against the back of your neck, and you pull away on reflex. You know your skin must be flushed and hot, but you feel like you’re freezing, so her hands bring you no relief.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, keeping her voice low to try and limit the disturbance. “Sit up for me baby, I’ve got medicine.”

The idea of swallowing anything brings you great displeasure, but you do as she asks anyway. She helps you sit up and then cups your face with her hands. Her thumbs take position beside each side of your nose, and begin to rub outwards along your cheekbones. You can feel your sinuses drain and the pressure in your head lessening. In this moment, it is the most beautiful thing you could’ve possibly imagined.

Eventually she stops and you take the two pills she gives to you. “More water,” she says softly. You give her a half-assed glare and she holds the bottle up to your lips. “I know, I’m the worst, making sure you’re hydrated.” You end up drinking half the bottle.

You lay back down on your side and she rubs your bath. “I’m sorry I can’t help you unpack.” Your voice is weak and gross sounding.

“Shh. Don’t be. You rest.” She kisses you on the cheek and you shut your eyes. One of her hands rubs your back soothingly and the other scratches at your scalp.

You find that despite the immense discomfort, you can relax in her presence, and you’re finally able to drift off to sleep.

[idfkhowtowrite]

Early Mornings (Mechanic!gf x fem!reader)

You wake up the same way you always do on Max’s days off: to a warm heat pressed against your back. Unfortunately you can’t enjoy it, because you yourself have to work. You’ve just barely managed to free yourself when her arms become tight around you, dragging you closer.

“It’s Sunday, you don’t work. Go back to sleep.” She mumbles sleepily against your neck.

“I picked it up. Let go, I gotta get up.” She groans and wraps tighter around you. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ll bring you a treat from the bakery.”

That fails to satisfy her, and her grip remains unrelenting. You try to use force and pry her arms off of you, but she’s stronger and you remain defeated.

You sigh and stop your struggle. “Max. Please.”

She grunts and finally releases you, allowing you to slide out of bed. You stand up and turn to see her peering at you through barely open eyes. “You’re betraying me.” She grumbles.

“I’ll make it up to you.” You whisper. You get ready for work, the clock reading 3 AM. That’s what you get for choosing to open at a bakery. On your way out, you kiss Maxine on the temple. She’s already fast asleep.

——

You get home just as the clock hits 2 PM. You can hear your girlfriend watching some car restoration video on the living room TV.

You shrug off your jacket and head over to where she is. “Hi Max.”

Ignored. Kind of. She’s smiling but she’s refusing to look at you. You know what she wants.

You sit down next to her and pass her a treat bag from the bakery. Inside is an almond cheesecake cone, a treat she’d fallen in love with after the first time you brought one home for her.

Her smile becomes directed at you as she enjoys her dessert. One arm wraps around your shoulders and tucks you into her side, and you curl up. “Am I forgiven?”

Her eyes soften and she kisses you. “For now.”

[idfkhowtowrite]

Away From Home (alien x reader)

The ship is cold and unfamiliar, and the security blanket you’d been given does little to bring you comfort. You’ve found yourself and your crew stuck on a rescue ship, ship name here, after your own, other ship name, had suffered a spontaneous engine combustion. You’re staring off into the literal vacuum of space when you hear heavy footsteps across the metal floor.

The ship is cold and unfamiliar, and the weighted security blanket around your shoulders does little to bring you comfort. Much to your dismay, you and the other two people making up your crew are stuck on The Apex, a rescue ship, after your own had suffered an engine loss in an unpredicted asteroid storm.

You’re sat in their common room, and you’re staring off into literal space when you hear heavy footsteps coming up behind you. H’araak, a retired Nixyeni soldier. Tall, toned but slim, purple skinned, an extra set of eyes, seven fingers, and a cat-like nose. A sight that would have had you fainting in fear a decade ago is so natural to you now. He says something you can’t understand, so you hold up a finger and clip your translator into its place over your ear.

His translated voice crackles in your ear. “You don’t have an implant?” A question you get a lot. For humans, the procedure consisted of getting a hole drilled in the skull while the translator is implanted into said hole. The only evidence of having it done would be a small, flat, circular bump under the skin just above your ear. People said that it was painless, and the worst of it was a dull ache over the site for the first few days, but just the idea of having it done had you sweating.

“Don’t need one.” The answer you always gave. True enough anyways. You adjust your position in the armchair to face him better.

He pulls a face that you’re almost certain is either confusion or smugness for his kind. Maybe both. He leans against the back of the big sofa like he’s settling in. “A person who travels galaxies regularly doesn’t need one?”

“I just haul cargo. Not much social interaction. This little thing does all I need it to.” You really don’t want to hear the litany of reasons why you should suck it up and get a nice fancy implant again. “Did you need something?”

He stands up properly and nods. “Your room is ready.” God, you really are stuck here. Your displeasure must show on your face, because he reacts with his own expression of… amusement? You think? You’re gonna need to look up how he and his crew mates emote, you like to know how people are thinking as best you can. “What’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing, no. It’s fine. Thank you for your hospitality. I’m just upset about the circumstances.” His face changes.

“Ah, yes. The asteroid storm. It’s my understanding no one was injured worse than a few bumps and scrapes. Was something of yours damaged or lost?” His translated voice comes through as sympathetic.

“No, nothing like that.” You stand and follow him down the hall. “Short trip, I didn’t bother bringing anything much, I’ve got everything of any value with me. Just sucks, my pay is gonna get docked.”

He glances down at you. “Docked?”

“Sorry, cut. They’ll take some of it away.” His head tilts.

“Why would they do that?”

You wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Because we didn’t make the trip.”

A sound comes from the back of his throat. “That’s not your fault.”

“They don’t care. They’re not getting paid in full, so we’re not getting paid in full.” He doesn’t respond to that. He stops in front of a gray metal door. He opens it for you and you step in.

It’s standard, but you don’t need anything more. A bed, a nightstand, and a little desk. A private bathroom too. You figure you should send him off and let him have his night in peace. “Well. Thank you.”

He nods, watching you quietly for a moment. “Goodnight.”

[idfkhowtowrite]

Soap Bubbles (mechanic!gf x fem!reader)

You sink into the hot bath, finally letting go of all the tension of the day. It had been a long day at the bakery, and you found that you were aching. All that hauling of heavy bags you’d done with less than perfect body mechanics was catching up with you. But it was all worth it for this.

Your music plays softly as you shut your eyes and relax into soapy bliss. And for a moment, everything is peaceful.

Then the front door opens.

A few moments later your silence is interrupted with your dear girlfriend peeking her head into your shared bathroom. Her smile widens when she sees you. “Can I join?”

You wave her towards you and she quickly and gracelessly strips down and clamors into the tub, sloshing water everywhere. In a series of very wonky and too quick movements that get water on the bathroom floor, she settles in behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. “Missed you.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Ugh. You smell like motor oil.” She giggles and presses closer while you make a half-hearted attempted to free yourself from her grasp.

“You’re datin’ a mechanic, it comes with the territory.” She nips at your neck and you huff, pushing at her head.

“Well can the mechanic use the soap that we are surrounded by- Maxine!” You feel a sharp bite between your neck and your shoulder while one of her hand gropes one of your breasts. Annoyance fills your voice. “You just got home, can’t you relax first!?”

“I am relaxing. You’re the one all tensed up.” The bite is soothed with little kisses and she coaxes your head back onto her shoulder. “‘M sorry. No more bites, promise. Relax.”

You sigh and shut your eyes. Her hands roam over your wet skin, grabbing and massaging and fondling. You find the tension leaving your body yet again. She washes your hair and you do the same for the unruly blonde mess on her head. Eventually the bathwater cools and you both get out to towel off. Just as you get your hair up in a towel, she plants a big kiss on your cheek. “I love you.”

You return the favor. “I love you too.”

[idfkhowtowrite]

Apartment Planning (masc!gf x fem!reader)

You sit on the floor, surrounded by papers. You’ve been planning everything for the new apartment meticulously, budgeting and shopping and more budgeting. Everything is always a list with you. Organization is something you’d always thrived on, and you tended to take it to the nth degree. Lists to keep your lists straight, reminders, alarms, spreadsheets, all of it. You needed control, and this gave you that.

You’re scribbling away when she walks in. Your girlfriend, Morgan, who you’re moving in with in just a short 6 weeks. Tall, toned, tattooed, gorgeous. Long dark hair and darker eyes that saw straight into you. Eyes that are currently pinning you with a look because you’ve been caught trying to do all the apartment planning yourself again.

“This isn’t what it looks like.” You don’t have a better excuse.

“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t sound impressed in the slightest. She sets down the bags she was carrying and walks over. “Then what is it?”

“…” Like you said. No better excuse. “I just want everything to go smoothly.”

She glances at the sheet currently in your hand. “I promise it’ll be okay. And on the topic of promises, you promised me that you’d give it a rest.” She starts to tuck all your papers neatly back into their binder.

You feel rather sheepish. You did promise that. Several times actually. “I can do it.”

“That’s not the problem.” Those eyes are back on you, and you find yourself looking away. She sits next to you on the floor, and her hand cups the side of your face. “I don’t doubt that you can do it. I know you can. You can do it very well. The problem is you’re doing too much.”

She flips through the binder with her free hand, skimming the papers. “We don’t need to plan every single expense to the cent. I mean, what is this? You have us marked for eating rice and beans for lunch for like, three weeks straight.”

Your face burns. “They’re cheap! And they taste good!”

“For three weeks?”

“Yes.”

The look on her face is physically pained. “No.” Her other hand moves up to also cup your face. “It’s going to work out. You don’t have to plan every single detail. It’ll be okay. Loosen up a little. Please?”

You sigh and close your eyes, leaning into her touch. Her lips meet yours and you hum. “Fine. I will.”

“Thank you.” Another quick kiss. “C’mon. Before the food gets cold.”

[idfkhowtowrite]

You’re wrapped up in a soft bathrobe, lounging on the big hotel couch. Your hair is damp from the shower and your skin is freshly moisturized. Feels good after the long day. Driving to the airport, flying, driving to the hotel. Granted, you didn’t drive (or fly) anything, but still. It takes it out of you. But it was admittedly worth it. Even if this is a work trip. Even if it is with him.

The view out of the window is breathtaking. An endless sprawling city of lights, like the heavens themselves had brought the stars down to the Earth for you.

You hear the click of the lock unlatching and don’t have to look to know who it is. There’s only one person it could be. Maxwell. Your colleague. Sent on the same work trip as you to pitch your companies services to some big business tycoon.

He pads across the carpeted fooor, and the smell of the takeout you’d ordered wafts in. “I thought you were ordering for two, not twelve.” He sounds amused, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s making that stupid face he always makes when he thinks you’ve made a mistake somehow.

You take the bag from him and start laying the spread out on the too-short coffee table. “I did order for two. Some of us want our meals to consist of more than a ground beef bowl with rice and bell peppers.”

“I eat more than that! You only see my meal prep for work, maybe I eat a three course meal for dinner every night.”

“Do you?”

“Not the point.” You roll your eyes and make a plate for of garlic noodles, vegetable stir fry, and a few dumplings.

He sits next to you, closer than he needs to. His knee brushes yours and you resist the urge to knock yours against his. “Y’know, maybe you’d be better at your job if you ate more than bubble. Your brain needs carbs to function.

He makes an offended face that you’re sure is disingenuous and places his hand over his heart. “I am perfectly good at my job. After all this time, how could you possibly imply otherwise Miss?”

“Someone perfectly good at their job wouldn’t’ve fucked up the hotel booking.” The booking was meant to be two rooms, one bed in each. Instead, he booked one room with two beds. This is usually the sort of thing you’d insist doing yourself but he’d managed to convince you to let him (he’d stolen the task from you like a child, doing it before you had the chance).

You bicker back and forth while you finish eating. He disappears into the bathroom to take a shower, and you take the chance to get ready for bed. You pull the curtains, change into pajamas, and crawl into your bed.

As soon as you’ve settled in and shut your eyes, you hear the bathroom door opening and the sound of him climbing into his bed.

You silently pray for this week to end faster.