Dylan O'brien & Other-Smut-Imagines

Research

He scoffed. "Like a billion times. But I never thought you'd want to."

"We're friends, aren't we Stiles? Friends can kiss. It doesn't have to be anything more than that."

"But, won't it be awkward?" He fidgeted nervously when your hand slid up and gripped his shoulder.

"Only if you let it be awkward. Just let go, Stiles."

You stared at each other for a moment before he leaned forward, eyes sliding shut as his mouth slanted over yours.

Your stomach flipped, his lips soft but firm against yours. You sighed through your nose, pulling him closer, moaning quietly when his tongue traced the seam of your lips. You opened your mouth to give him access, fingers sliding around to grip the hair at the base of his neck.

Stiles must of had a burst of confidence, because things got heated very quickly, his hands roaming your body. His kisses became all tongue and teeth and lips and suddenly you were writhing beneath him, his body slotting between your legs.

Your hands slid beneath his t-shirt, and you pushed him gently off of you so you could help him maneuver it over his head. His lips crashed back down to yours when you were done, your nails raking down his naked back. When his mouth moved down your neck, your back arched, your chest pressing against his.

"Stiles?"

"Hmm?" He pulled away and looked down at you, his pupils lust blown and lips swollen. You pressed your legs together to quell the throbbing between them. Him looking this way was doing things to you, and you liked it.

You sat up, tugging your tank top up and off of your body, watching as his eyes widened slightly when he took in the sight of your lace clad chest. You grabbed him by the back of the neck, pulling his lips back down onto yours, smiling when he let out an appreciative moan.

His fingers skated across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He tugged on the clasp of your bra, unhooking it and pulling the straps down your arms. You let go of him long enough to remove it, tossing it aside and pressing your bare chest against him.

"Fuck..." he mumbled, laying you back down and letting his mouth wander down your clavicle. You groaned when his wet tongue swiped across your nipple, fingers carding through his messy hair.

"Stiles please, I need more." You breathed out.

He chuckled. "I thought we were just making out?" He sat back and looked at you.

"I changed my mind. Are you backing out?"

His eyes wandered down your naked chest. "Nope. No way."

"Good." You grabbed at his belt, fingers expertly undoing the buckle and popping the button on the front. Your hand reached into his waistband and into his boxers, wrapping around his member and stroking slowly. He let out a moan, head falling back as his hips bucked slightly when your thumb brushed across the tip of him, smearing the precum that collected there.

His head snapped forward, fingers gripping your leggings and pulling them and your panties down your legs, standing up so he could peel them off your feet and toss them behind him. You giggled as he shimmied out of his own pants and boxers, crawling back onto the bed and back between your legs, his mouth finding yours again. His lips traveled down your body, his face disappearing between your thighs. You moaned when his fingers spread you open, tongue flicking out across your clit. You tugged on his hair, nails scraping along his scalp as he licked down to your entrance and back up again slowly.