Stiles has come to the realization that he’s going to need to tell the pack that he’s transgender before they find out on their own. He’s only ever told one person before, and he’s still thankful Scott was a true best friend. He only hopes the others take his news as well.

Stiles’ first memory of his mom is green. Her green eyes, her green dresses, her green scarves, her green blouses and her green barrettes.

She hasn’t had a partner-assisted orgasm in over a week and a half, and she is just beyond done. She wants to lie down on the cold bathroom floor and cry. Derek is starting to look like a permanently kicked puppy. “Look,” she tells him after dinner, “I love your inner self and your personality or whatever, but can I just tie you up and use your body until I come a couple times?” Derek fumbles the sudsy glass in his hand. “Awesome!” Stiles says brightly.

Derek smirks at her, eyes hooded as he leans closer still, until his lips are brushing her ear. His breath fans hotly over the curve of her neck and Stiles shudders, knuckles going white as she clasps them together between her legs. “Touch yourself,” he whispers, the curve of his lips a shade too wicked.

Short fics originally posted to my Tumblr, edited and collected here.

Derek’s had a rough life up until this point. He’s beginning to learn perspective, and in the scheme of things, being a temporary woman is pretty minor.