Kennedy let out a cackle, “You have got to be kidding me!”
“No,” Amara snapped.
“He actually compared your hair to a poodle?”
“Yeah, I was a bit surprised too.”
“So, what did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything. I tossed my latte in his face,” Amara crossed her arms over her chest.
stoyd week: married bliss and trouble in paradise.
“I was mad at you.”
Stiles is still breathless, sweat cooling on his bare skin. He feels sticky but sated, his limbs like noodles as he tugs the sheets up over him for warmth.
Next to him, Boyd just grins, curling an arm over Stiles’ waist to drag him closer. He presses little kisses to Stiles’ neck, lips brushing over his pulse point, and he sighs softly, closes his eyes and forgets why he was mad all over again. Boyd has a skill for that.
Bookmarked by cheeriosx
14 Aug 2018
Stiles is a bit of an anomaly among the Omegas he knows, or everyone on the spectrum really.
For him, heats are about comfort and safety, and not at all about sex.
- Part 1 of it's not the color i came in
stoyd week: crossing time and space.
Stiles meets his soulmate at a coffee shop.
Which is kind of ironic, really, because he used to fantasize about bumping into the love of his life while getting a coffee somewhere, falling in love with the scent of coffee in the air and rain pouring down outside. (It’s always raining when he thinks about it, he doesn’t know why.)
But he never thought it’d be on a space station light years away from Earth.
Stiles had basically been bullied into creeping on the guy, and it was sort of easier to go along with this bullshit if he could keep a little distance from reality. “Hottie Accountant” was a concept, an avatar— the Platonic form of the perfect guy, so of course Stiles would never have the balls to ask him out. “Vernon Boyd” was a real person, and thus theoretically attainable. And in that case, theoretically, Stiles was a jackass who’d been pathetically pining over the dude for way too long.
Whenever possible, Stiles preferred to forget that he’d become the weirdo florist stalker of a real person.
Stiles shouldn't watch this. God, he can't watch this. He needs to - to close his eyes, to run away and never look back, to scream at the top of his lungs at the unfairness of everything. But he has alway been helpless in the force of Boyd's gravity.