BRUH!!
I HAVE SO MANY EMOTIONS RIGHT NOW AHHHH!
I'M SO TORN BETWEEN THE POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE ONES!!!
Okay, the negative first.
ARE YOU F*CKING KIDDING ME?! REALLY?! YOU WENT AND KILLED BOYD LIKE THAT!!
I was all excited, because I was like "yes! Look at our little team go! Even when they're separated, they're still freaking awesome and kicking butt and have the best plans!"
And then they freaking FORCED DEREK to KILL ONE OF HIS OWN and I just....
THAT'S SO F*CKING MESSED UP!!! I HATE YOU ALL!!!
And then that entire sequence, with Boyd flashing back to Erica, and saying it was okay, because the feeling was worth it, and Derek just shaking with guilt and anger and hatred that you know he's pointing at himself and IT WASN'T EVEN HIS FAULT GOSH DARNAT!!
And then Cora crying, and Jennifer having to be there to see all of it because they brought her into it because they SUCK, and everyone just...AGHHHHH! WHY?! :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :(
...okay, now that I've said that, the things I did appreciate about that scene that also honestly made me want to cry even more.
The way the team all figured things out and managed to communicate and come up with a back-up plan.
The way Isaac just grabbed Jennifer and held her with everything he had because he knew keeping her safe was the most important thing he could do in that moment (do you think everyone knew, in that moment, that if anyone was gonna die, it was Boyd? Because I get the sense that Boyd knew, and as freaking upsetting as it was, he was ready for it, and it's sad, and I hate it, but ahhhh anyways).
The way Cora and Stiles and Lydia all ran in and were just immediately distraught at realizing that the plan didn't work out the way they wanted it too.
The way that Stiles, of all people, who still has beef with Derek, who still doesn't always trust Derek, who still blames Derek for a lot of things, put his hand on Derek's shoulder because he KNEW how much that hurt Derek, and no matter how he might feel about Derek, he knew that Derek would never, EVER want to hurt one of his own. And he knew how much it tore him apart to watch himself do it and not be able to stop it.
....and now I'm crying again. :'( :'( :'(
SO ANYWAYS SCOTT!!
Okay FIRST OF ALL, the second the mountain ash was a thing, I was like "GOD F*CKING D*MMIT THIS IS WHY YOU ALWAYS HAVE AT LEAST ONE HUMAN WITH YOU!".
And then he tried SOOOO hard, and his eyes turned red AGAIN, and I soooo thought he was gonna make it, because he was soooo close, and then he didn't, and I was all prepared for my heart to break.
And then freaking SHERIFF NOAH STILINSKI WALTZES IN AND SAVES THE DAY (and for some reason did not question why Scott had such a hard time getting Deaton down, but I'll allow it lol) and comes in with the best line ever with "Let me give it a shot" and then LITERALLY gives it a shot and I just!!
THIS is why this man needs to find out. Bro he's in the middle of SO much of it already, and he's clearly fully capable of saving the day. At least give him a better chance at understanding and explaining it all lol.
And then one of the MANY things I have been waiting for...
THE TRUE ALPHA JOURNEY BEGIIIIIINS!!!
I'M SO F*CKING READY TO WATCH SCOTT FULLY BECOME A TRUE ALPHA!!!
I'M SO READY!!!!
LET'S GO BABY!!!
So anyways that was a rollercoaster of emotions, but it was a really good episode, and I have no idea when I'm gonna be able to watch the next one, but you know you'll all know when I do lol.
Also as an aside, I'm glad Allison was smart enough to figure out that Gerard was alive, and I kind of hope she keeps going behind her dad's back, but secretly following everything he does just to prove him wrong lol. I mean, I love her dad, and I appreciate that he's trying to protect her, but also, again, WORK TOGETHER GODD*AMMIT.
...anyways.
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pretty boy — stiles stilinski x reader
☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, tit play, unprotected p in v sex, virgin!sub!stiles x experienced!dom!reader — smut
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
synopsis: the closest thing he had come to having sex was with his fist, until he confessed to you, that is
✧.*
in a dimly lit motel room, the buzzing neon sign outside cast intermittent flashes of light across the peeling wallpaper. the air was thick with tension as stiles stilinski, the epitome of social awkwardness and love-deprivation, sat on one of the twin beds, fumbling with his phone. scott had left to chase after allison, leaving stiles alone with his thoughts and an abundance of uncomfortable silence. just as he contemplated diving into another episode of his favorite tv show to escape the loneliness, there was a soft knock on the door. with a puzzled expression, he pulled it open, revealing you—bold, snarky, and an undeniable knockout. you sauntered in, a sly grin playing on your lips, and in your hand, a six-pack of beer.
“hey there, loser,” you greeted, taking in the melancholic atmosphere. “looks like we've got a room all to ourselves tonight. mind if i join the pity party?” stiles' eyes widened in surprise, a mix of embarrassment and relief washing over him. “uh, sure, come on in,” he stammered, hastily clearing a space on the other bed for you.
you cracked open a beer, handing one to stiles, and settled in comfortably. “so, what's got you wallowing in self-pity?” you asked, your tone laced with genuine curiosity. stiles took a sip of his beer and sighed, avoiding eye contact. “i've been doing some thinking,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “how is it that i've never gotten laid?”
you observed him for a moment, your sharp wit temporarily softened by empathy. “stiles, being in a relationship isn't the be-all and end-all of life,” you said, your voice reassuring. “besides, you're unique in your own quirky way. maybe you just haven't found the right person yet.” he looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and insecurity. “you think so?”
“absolutely,” you affirmed, leaning in a bit closer. “you're a good guy, stiles. you deserve someone who appreciates your quirks and cares about you for who you are.” as the night wore on and the beer cans dwindled, a connection grew between you two. stiles, usually tongue-tied and nervous around others, found himself opening up to you like he never had before. your witty banter and genuine interest put him at ease, making him forget his insecurities.
and then, in the quiet of that dingy motel room, stiles found the courage to confess his feelings. “you know, i've had a crush on you for a while now,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. you raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk gracing your lips. “oh, really? i had no idea,” you teased.
stiles chuckled nervously, his heart pounding in his chest. “yeah, well, i guess it's hard not to when you're so—amazing.” you leaned in closer until your faces were just inches apart. “you know, stiles,” you whispered, “i've had my eye on you too.”
in that small, dimly lit motel room, something shifted between you and stiles. two people, seemingly different in every way, found a connection that transcended their differences. as the night deepened, you and stiles shared more than just beer; you shared stories, dreams, and a newfound closeness that neither of you had expected. it was a moment of vulnerability and connection that would change the course of their lives, igniting a spark of something beautiful amidst the chaos of teenagehood. and as the neon sign outside flickered on and off, it seemed to mirror the uncertainty and excitement of the journey that lay ahead for stiles and the you.
“so,” you began, discarding the empty can of liquid gold as you spoke. you met his gaze, his nervous, shaky gaze with a hint of something unexplainable in your own. whatever it was, it drew him to you. just as much as his nervousness drew you to him. “never been laid, huh?”
the question had him taken aback, leaving him with an almost offended expression as he scoffed. “you almost sound surprised.” he inquired with a, yet again nervous, chuckle. you shrugged, taking the opportunity to sit next to him on the ragged, uncomfortable sheets. “you're a pretty boy, sti, you could say i'm surprised, sure.” he didn't know which part got to him first—perhaps it was the way your tone shifted from playful to seductive in a matter of seconds, or maybe it was the way your siren-like eyes held his shy gaze with an immense need to ruin him. before everything else, he was absolutely sure it was your words that had gotten to him first. pretty boy. yes, the way his jeans tightened only confirmed his lingering thoughts.
“you think i'm pretty?” it almost sounded like a statement, rather than your typical question. you smiled rather gently, fingertips slowly creeping up on him, brushing his hair softly, trailing down his clothed chest, gracefully caressing his bulge through his jeans. “so pretty.” you affirmed.
stiles didn't know how to kiss, he didn't have as much experience as you did. he lacked the experience and tact you had, but not the passion. not the passion, not with you guiding him every step of the way ever so gently. your hands cupped his cheeks, tracing his jawline as you coaxed him into the kiss, allowing him to take baby steps into relaxing and finally melting into it. once he did, you found your tongue sliding into his mouth, intertwining with his as your teeth tugged at his bottom lip, sucking gently. you heard him gasp, and it was adorable. he was like putty under your touch.
“you sure you wanna do this?” the question came out almost as soon as the kiss was broken, leaving him panting with a painful ache in his cock. he nodded, almost too eagerly, puppy eyes desperate to experience this more than ever. you littered kitten licks and kisses down his neck, relishing in the way he shivered at the sensation. you had successfully gotten rid of his shirt, feeling how he only grew more and more eager to get on with it. before you could go any further, you found yourself pushing him back onto the bed, straddling his lap.
he watched in awe from below as you peeled your top off, pulling it off your head, leaving you in a stunning black bra. his eyes admired the curve of your tits, the way the bra squished them together, the recoil incoming with every move you made. “c'mere, baby, don't be shy.” you cooed, encouraging stiles to do more than just stare. it was just what he needed to hear. though inexperienced, he allowed himself to do what he felt was right—peeling your bra off, soft moans of pleasure leaving his mouth as he allowed him to fondle and grope your fatty tits, sucking on them and toying with them in a way that made both of you moan. he had his face buried into the valley of your boobs, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as you pulled at his dark hair. he looked up at you, with an utterly innocent, horny gaze, saliva dripping down his chin as you watched him rut against the mattress, desperate for some kind of soothing friction. it made you all the more ready to ruin him.
“please, (y/n),” you had him begging for you to help him out, just a little bit. while you helped him remove his jeans, you couldn't ignore the way his moans got you worked up and wet. “gotta fuck you, please, please, please.” it was a string of incoherent pleading and whining, he was even more worked up than you were. he had no other way to act, what, with your tongue dragging alongside his clothed dick, teasing and taunting the wet spot on his boxers. you nuzzled your nose against him, tongue tracing his balls as you listened to the way he meweled, beads of sweat dropping down his temple.
that night, the first thing you found out about stiles was that he was sensitive. extremely sensitive. the second thing? he was hung. the sight of his bare dick made your eyes widen, the same way the feeling of the cool air hitting his hot, angry, hard cock made him hiss. unbeknownst to you, he had been carrying a, vaguely-spoken, above-average size this entire time. it wasn't something he chose to brag about—what would the context be? certainly not how he jacked off to photos of you every night, to polaroids he had taken of you on the beach or the mere thought of you in the position you were currently in. no, surprising you like this was much better.
“big boy, aren't you, sti?” the way you cooed, as if talking to a toddler, made his cock throb. he whined in response, breath hitching in his throat as you used your thumb to smear his dripping precum all over his cock, lubricating it with the thin layer of arousal. “you're gonna make a mess of me.” he hadn't planned on it until now.
he truly didn't know what to expect fron sex up until now. sure, he's heard stories from friends thay included scott and danny, he's heard the standard it set compared to using a hand to get off. however, feeling it for the first time—it was absolutely incomparable. it was another realm of euphoria, feeling his throbbing, aching cock slip into your wet, tight heat. you didn't have to prep yourself or anything, his long, hard dick gliding into the tight ring of muscle without a care in the world. he felt you flutter around him, the sensation better and tighter than when he uaually jacked off. his jaw slacked, eyelashes fluttering as a moan got caught in his throat. he knew he wasn't gonna last long.
“too fuck—fucking tight, jesus, shit—” none of his words were easy to make out, each one coming out slower than the last as you allowed yourself to bounce on his dick, hands pressed to his chest as his cock slid in and out of you. your tits were pressed to his face, and you couldn't help but moan lowly, the thin motel walls offering you little to no support. “so big, stiles,” you gasped out. you were full, fuller than you've ever been or felt up until now. his thick tip was pressing against your cervix, kissing it as he fucked you. “shit, too fucking big, sti.”
he loved it, loved knowing how good he made you feel. he used it to his advantage, repeating things he had only seen in pornos—rubbing your clit, fondling your tits, and grabbing onto your hips, grinding you down onto his dick as he fucked himself into you. he knew he was close, especially fast for his first time, especially fast for your third time. “i—i can't,” he forewarned, and he couldn't.
when he came, his mind went absolutely blank. he came hard, with a loud moan that had come off as unexpected for both of you. he came long and hard, harder than ever before, shooting all of his cum into your cunt, your pussy milking his cock completely, sucking every last drop out. his vision was blurry for a few seconds, and his mouth dry, the inability to form sentences overpowering him. if there was one thing you were good at, it was fucking.
and boy, were you a fucking good one.
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