MIRRORBALL ❖ stiles oneshots

▫️ sweater weather *

"Disgusting?" she filled in, repositioning herself against the console so she could reach him better. Her lips dragged slow kisses up the side of his face, ending near the edge of his ear. Stiles had been distracted by his own voice that he hadn't noticed what she was progressing.

Her hand slid slowly onto his knee, rubbing back and forth to the same pace she was laying the kisses.

He looked over at her just as she began trailing down to his neck.

"Y/N?" he asked. If she wasn't wrong she would say there was a slight shake to it—confusion. She pulled away for a moment and just smiled. A small smile, but it was enough to cause Stiles' eyes to change into a look of adoration.

In a fleeting move he pushed his lips onto hers, reaching for the back of her neck at the same time. His one hand threaded through her hair with ease, while the other one steadily placed itself on the seat to push himself closer. She was well aware of the boundary in-between them that was preventing them from becoming any closer. If this was going to go any farther then they would need to move somewhere else.

His hand grabbed her waist, and his long fingers managed to skim past the part of her body where her sweater had rose up. His hand attempted to splay across her back, but he was unable to reach due to the console.

In response she had opened her lips to suggest that they take it inside, but she felt his tongue slip into her mouth instead. The action took her by surprise and judging from Stiles' intense grip on her hair he had known it did too.

Her hand was sliding up his thigh now. She sought it only fair if he was going to tease her by slipping his fingers down the high waisted shorts she was wearing.

There was a faint hum against her lips, which resulted in Stiles breaking away. She backed away aswell, waiting for his next words to leave his lips.

"Should we?"

All she had to do was nod.

The two of them quickly hoped out of the jeep after that, quickly walking to the front door so Stiles could unlock it. He fumbled through his keys before he was able to find the right one. Once he did, it was hastily slotted into place and the wooden door was pushed open.

He let her walk in first then promptly closed the door behind them. She barely got a foot in before he had kissed her again, sending her tumbling back into the door they had just came through.

A sudden spark of confidence guided him as he placed his hands on either side of her on the door. His fingers traveled up towards one of her hands and locked them together beside her head. The other was back in her hair, which she was by no means protesting. She kept her own hands occupied by looping her pointer fingers through his waistband, tugging him closer until their bodies were practically mesh.

He sucked on a spot under her jaw, causing her to squirm just a little. She was sure it was going to leave a mark she'd need to cover up in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Stiles," she whispered. He made no move of stopping.

"Mhm."

"We can't do this in the kitchen."

Stiles pulled away slowly. He looked around, but kept his body in the same position as it had been. "Technically we're in the foyer," he quipped back—when he saw her disappointed glare he stopped, "but you're right. My room?"

"Your room," she agreed.

They made their way up the stairs quickly, Stiles always keeping one hand on the lower portion of her back. In the most heartfelt way, she found the gesture endearing.