future fic

Peter knows himself. His vices and virtues (the few he has, anyway). He embraces being a predator. Enjoys stalking and hunting. He’s a master manipulator and few things bring him as much pleasure as seeing his plans come together. He’s watching his prey. This moment has been years in the making. Getting here had taken all his skill. The challenge of a lifetime. It would be the zenith of his genius!...

1 He’s looking at himself in the mirror. It isn’t something he often does these days. He generally avoids it. Derek’s looks have done nothing but cause him trouble. Even with the beard and the eyebrows, something about his face always seems to scream ‘vulnerable’ to predatory women. When he shaves, he looks at his jaw and neck. Same when he buzzes his hair. He can’t remember the last time he stopped and looked at his reflection....

Stiles groaned as he sat up in bed. He was in pain. Then again, he was almost always in pain. Today seemed like a five, so not too bad. He wouldn’t need one of the percocets sitting on his nightstand. Small victories, he supposes. He was, however, dizzy. Too dizzy. He glares at his walker, because of course today would be a walker day. Not like he’d planned on running a few errands....

When Derek decided that he really couldn’t take one more awful thing happening to him and left Beacon Hills, he found himself drawn back to New York. Other than the years with his pack in Beacon Hills, New York was the only other place that had felt like home. He’d only had Laura but they’d made it work. Cities were hard on werewolves but could also be easy, depending on your situation....