#master nikoli

They take their shots, but we're bulletproof And you know for me, it's always you                And I know for you, it's always me.

@master-nikoli continued from (x)

master-nikoli:

“Ohhh please do that I’m BEGGING you,” he grinned, leaning a little bit closer, “I seriously need to learn to walk in heels- or.. er… shoes… I kiiiiinda jumped into it headfirst,” Apparently seeing some gorgeous dom walk through the club in stillettos like he was born in them and deciding “Hey, why don’t I do that?” wasn’t the best choice, especially after finding out the guy was a professional figure skater and could probably walk in just about anything- great choices Nikoli

[from X]

Stiles wrinkled his nose, trying to ignore the pang of guilt and hurt that hit into his heart at that, biting into his cheek as he forced himself to brush past it- outwardly, atleast, “Wow, that hurts, I would’ve thought the warehouse full of hunters I just took out would’ve been alot more worrying than little ol’ me but hey, what do I know?” he shrugged

Ok, so maybe it hurt alot more than he EVER wanted to admit to, but he wasn’t going to let on- he REFUSED, “I’m heading out, I assume you didn’t drive here? Do you need a lift or are you just gonna Maze-Runner yourself out?”

A sting of hurt flooded bitter through the air, and Derek pressed down on a grimace at the scent of it. Stiles had completely missed the point, obviously, b Derek should have probably been more relieved by his ignorance.

Instead, it just made the frustration itch deeper.

        ~original lifeline~

“Maybe Void is your wolf, and the thing that pulls you back… that’s your anchor. It’s not exactly the same, but it’s not as different as you’re making it sound, either. It is you, a part of you, like the wolf’s a part of me. And I’ll help you focus it, help you control it and harness it. 

“But if you’re looking for someone to judge or punish you for it… I’m not going to.”

Easy morning light pulled Derek from comfortable dreams. He squinted eyes open, brows pinching as he recognized the living room around him, instead of their familiar bedroom. Chipper morning hosts were chattering away quietly on the TV in front of him, and there was a warm weight of another body against his shoulder.

They’d missed it.

After a dragging day of year-end border negotiations with the band of fae that had taken up residence in the deep preserve, Derek and Stiles had barely managed to get home and shower before collapsing onto the couch, exhausted but determined to see the countdown and ring in the new year the right way. And that was the last thing Derek remembered, except for the heaviness of his lids and the comfortable warmth of Stiles nuzzling into his shoulder.

Stiles was shifting slightly now against his shoulder, his face soft in the warm sunlight as he started waking up. Derek smiled, and leaned in to press a drowsy, contented kiss to his mate’s lips.

“Happy new year,” he murmured against Stiles’ mouth.

@master-nikoli

[from]

Stiles stepped in, wringing his hands and licking his lips as he looked around, everything felt… weird here… like he was a stranger, and sure Derek’s home had never been all that inviting in general- not the Hale house or certainly the train station but.. the loft had been kind of ok… even this new place was alright enough- but it had never felt like Stiles was an INTRUDER the way he felt now

“You know,” he said absently, glancing around, trying to absorb everything with his newly heightened senses, all of the sights and smells, vibrations and sounds… it was so overwelming to be anywhere now…. “I don’t get why all of those movies have vampires going ‘Ew werewolves stink’, it smells…. good in here,” to put it freaking mildly

“YOU smell good, kind of… delicious… actually,”

His throat was dry, he needed to stop, he should go….. but…

But Stiles had never been great at self-control or forcing himself to do things, so he stepped closer, eyes on the floor, not wanting to meet Derek’s gaze, hyper-aware of the fact that Derek was incredibly tense, like he was standing in front of an enemy, and wolves percieved eye contact as a challenge right?

Stiles didn’t want to challenge, hell if it would make Derek ok with him again he was prepared to roll over and submit

“Do I smell as bad as werewolves usually say … we do? In movies? It’s gonna suck worse than anything if I’m freinds with all of these wolves and just stink for the rest of my life, I’ll have to buy a stronger deodorant,”

It was a joke (Not really) but it had no humor to it, it was just… flat, empty, alot like how Stiles had felt since all of this began- well, after the panic and devastation faded away anyhow…

Derek stayed tense as he watched Stiles, his instincts grating at the intrusion into his space. Nothing about Stiles’ appearance was threatening -- his wringing hands and slumped shoulders almost enough to get Derek’s guard down. And he knew Stiles wasn’t a threat, not really. This wasn’t some horror movie or 90′s drama, where you turned and lost all semblance of humanity. Stiles’ instincts might have changed some -- the bloodlust and the new power reworking the way he viewed the world -- but he was no less himself than Scott or Isaac had been once they became betas. He was still Stiles, still the person Derek had grown to know and trust.

At least, that’s what Deaton had assured them.

But the power pouring off Stiles was almost palpable, a low constant thrumming over Derek’s senses. Like waves lapping at his ankles, working to draw him in easy. He had to keep his guard up, because so much about Stiles was screaming for him not to.

The question, so far from what he’d just been thinking, startled a laugh from Derek.

Derek realized he was staring, half-blocking the door almost defensively. He hadn’t been alone with Stiles since the… change, and even though he looks mostly the same – maybe a bit paler, lack of blood? – there was a whole different energy radiating off him. An energy that made his wolf growl out predator.

He blinked hard, stepping back and inclining his head.