#trans!stiles

[imagine-sterek]

Imagine young FtM Stiles who comes out to his dad telling him that he’s a boy and the sheriff pulls out a video of stiles gender reveal party where it’s just revealed that they’re having a girl and Claudia shrugs (while wearing blue) and says that the baby (stiles) keeps telling her that they’re a boy. And the sheriff reassures stiles that he knew Claudia was right cause she always is. And that he loves stiles no matter what.

Claudia was always right.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

So, wondering if you can help find a fic that I accidentally closed out of 🤦🏻‍♀️ It had links for visuals and one I opened didn’t open to a new tab like the one I clicked before it and I closed it… Anyway

Stiles goes to Derek’s apartment after he and Malia fight and breakup because he’s trans. And they end up sleeping together. Stiles needs time way and leaves for 3 months and comes back, telling Derek he’s pregnant. The pack was helping Stiles move out of his dads house and into Derek’s spare room, they borrowed Kira’s dads truck…Derek had a motorcycle.

And that’s as far as I got 😞 it was about 20k words, single chapter. I found it from a list that was posted of fics where Derek and Stiles have a kid, maybe by you or another Rec account. It was over a month ago, that post it buried now lol

I appreciate you! Even if you don’t find it you’re amazing for your efforts!

I found it! I'm so proud of myself.

Fortune Favors The Bold by ShowMeAHero

(1/1 I 20,021 I General I Sterek)

Stiles and Derek make a mistake, and they spend as much time cleaning it up as they do accidentally falling in love with each other.

[foofsterart]

Some trans Stiles art. :)

[helpimstuckposting]

“mpreg is dumb and doesn’t exist in tw”

Yeah okay but Stiles is also very trans coded

Deadname: ✅

Shaved head: ✅

Like what more do you need

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Mitch was surprised to find the only bar on the island hadn't closed its doors yet, with the population dwindling as it is. Maybe more surprised than he should have been; in an isolated fishing town laid to waist by oil spills and decay, it made sense that the few who were left would need a place to drown their sorrows.

Ever since Mitch showed up to the dilapidated building, with yellow tungsten lighting and humming bulbs, and the trademark sticky floor, he's felt someone watching him. Eventually tracked the sensation of eyes on the back of his neck to a young man at the bar sending coy glances his way, a strange glint in his eye and a mischievous smile playing at his bowed lips. Something about him was frustratingly familiar, but Mitch couldn't place him.

After what must've been half an hour of half-heartedly sifting through old memories - memories Mitch preferred to keep at the back of his mind, buried by the sands of time - the man came wandering over. He took the worn, cracked-leather seat next to Mitch, leaned on the bar with his chin propped up in his hand, and gave Mitch a knowing smirk.

"Yes, handsome, you know me," the guy said. "I'll buy you a drink if you can tell me where from."

"What if I can't?"

"Then you're buying."

"Alright." Mitch gave the man a once-over. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. Mitch's age, maybe a year or two younger. Up close he was able to make out the details of his face, and something nagged at Mitch, bit at the tip of his tongue, but he still couldn't quite place it. "School?" Mitch eventually guessed.

"Too easy. You can do better than that." Mitch smiled despite himself; there was only one school on the island. If he and the guy were the same age, then they were bound to have run into each other at some point. Hell, there was only one building for the K through twelves to file into every day; their paths would've likely crossed even if they were years apart. Still, the guy inclined his head and added, "But yes. Not that it narrows things down much."

"You're right, it doesn't." It's been ten long years since Mitch thought about this place, let alone anyone in it, aside from his family.

"Come on, man, there's not a lot of people it could've been. I'll give you a hint: my hair was longer back then."

In the end it's that infuriatingly knowing - and attractive - smirk that does it for him. That devilish grin that used to come in shades a much deeper pink, if Mitch remembered correctly.

"… Stiles?" he cautiously guessed, doubtful because Stiles was definitely a girl last time Mitch was in town, but there's no mistaking that mouth, or those honey brown eyes sparking with trouble.

"Ding ding, you got it. New and improved, of course."

I'll say, Mitch thought, looking at Stiles in a new light.

"Well. A lot has changed, huh?"

"Not a lot. New haircut, got myself a little nip and tuck on the mainland, you know how it is. Also got your spot on the lacrosse team once you left; it needed filling, and Coach was just crazy enough to let me in. Father Argent just about had a conniption over it, but despite what he may believe, he doesn't actually own the town. Not yet, at least."

Mitch smiled a bit listening to Stiles ramble; it was just like the old days, back when Stiles could go for hours, and Mitch didn't even have to say a thing.

"You look good," he said when Stiles stopped to take a breath.

"So do you, for a guy that just got out of prison." Mitch shrugged, and Stiles didn't linger on the subject. "Now, how about that drink?" 

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Trans boy!Stiles AU where Stiles kept it a secret until one day, Derek got wounded and Stiles pulls off his shirt to try and stop the bleeding, not realising that he revealed his binder.

[rosepersomnium]

Day Two of Steter Week! Totally ignoring today’s prompt in favor of trans!Stiles.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315708

@steterweek

[sharkfish]

[on ao3]

Or, you know, this: Stiles has pretty much always known he wasn’t a girl. It’s why he started going by Stiles in elementary school: Zofia isn’t actually that hard to pronounce, but it isn’t him. Stiles, though, yeah: the first time Scott says it, Stiles is sold. That’s his name. He knows who he is.

No one will cut his tits off until he turns eighteen but he’s pretty small-breasted anyway, lanky and lean, so under a sports bra and a couple of layers, no one knows the difference. His mom buzzes his hair with clippers up until she dies and then he starts doing it himself; it’s cheap and easy. Jackson and Matt call him a lesbian all through middle school but freshman year Stiles starts insisting on male pronouns and actually everyone at school just kind of goes with it. They don’t all remember all the time and he’s still not allowed to play lacrosse on the boys’ team, and he’s still a total loser, but it’s not that big a deal. It’s not like he’s the only openly LGBTIQA student at Beacon Hills High, anyway: there’s Danny, of course, and a genderqueer person who calls themselves Tugs and makes out with a girl who wears cat ears in the hallway outside Stiles’s history class every morning, as notable examples.

Not long after Derek and Stiles meet, Stiles goes on his period. As soon as his scent hits Derek in the doorway of the loft, Derek jerks back, blinking rapidly at him.

“That’s kind of embarrassing,” Stiles says, laughing at least half-heartedly. “You can smell it?”

“Oh,” Derek says. “I didn’t know you were -- um. I didn’t realize.”

It’s Stiles’s turn to blink incredulously, looking down at himself. “This shirt has the trans pride flag on it. You’ve seen me wear this a million times. You -- last week you asked me if I ever washed it.”

“I didn’t know there was a trans pride flag,” Derek says.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “There’s a pride flag for everything. So, can I come in? Or is my stench too offensive?”

“It’s not offensive,” Derek grumbles, stepping back to let Stiles through the door. “I was just surprised.”

Derek doesn’t seem to like Stiles much, but Stiles is pretty sure it has a lot more to do with his ever-rambling mouth than the trans thing -- after all, Derek likes Scott even less, and Scott is as unfortunately cishet as they come.

Stiles comes back from his first year of college, and he knows he looks a lot better than he used to. He took up running and weightlifting and between the gym and the T, he’s filled out. His skin is golden from (too many) days skipping class to lay on the beach. He let his hair grow back shaggy enough for boys to wrap their fingers in while he sucks their cocks and, yes, he lost his virginity and was even mostly sober when it happened.

Derek stares at him really intently without any expression for a long time. Finally, he says, “You look different.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You know I had surgery over winter break.”

Derek’s eyes travel down Stiles’s body, all the way to his feet, and then slowly back up. “It’s not that,” he says.

“Wanna see my scars? Hey, would a werewolf scar from surgery like that, do you think?”

“I’m not sure. No, I don’t need to see them.”

Stiles throws himself on the couch. “You’re being really weird. Weird even for you.”

“You smell different, too,” Derek says, frowning. “You smell like…”

When Derek trails off, Stiles raises his eyebrows. “Like what?”

“Like someone’s been touching you.”

Stiles blushes. “Well, so what? Someone has been touching me.”

Derek looks away, turning his whole face from Stiles like he’s in pain. “Is he good to you?”

“Um, sure? It’s not a big deal. It’s just a hookup.”

“He knows that you’re trans?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Yes, Simon is intimately familiar with the state of my genitals. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I know. I just -- worry sometimes.”

“Little Trans Human does not require a Big Scary Werewolf to take care of him. It’s awesome, dude. Simon thinks I’m hot.”

It’s Derek’s turn to roll his eyes. “You are hot.”

Stiles laughs, but Derek isn’t cracking a smile, just back to staring at him intently, like he can erase the mole on Stiles’s cheek with his laser eyes. It’s unnerving. “Uhh,” Stiles stammers a little, “you think I’m hot?”

“You know you’re attractive.”

“But I don’t? I’m ok, I guess, and let’s be real, T is helping, but it’s not like -- I’m not running around looking like you.”

Derek looks down at himself, the cloth of a henley clinging to his stomach, his too-tight jeans. Stiles realizes that Derek is dressed a little nicer than usual, and his hair is overly-styled, too. “Wait a second,” Stiles says, all too aware -- as usual -- that Derek can hear his heart pounding. “You’re -- are you into me?”

Derek sighs deeply, deflating, eyes still cast downwards. “I had this stupid idea,” he says, voice low and resigned, “that I could be your first.”

“Whoa,” Stiles says. “Holy shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek says.

“Back up, nothing to be sorry for, I just need a second to kind of filter this through my brain, because, like -- wow, I mean -- ok, there’s a lot of stuff I still haven’t done, though, you know. Like anal. You could totally be my first at that. Or, um. I haven’t tried the strap on thing yet. If you’re into that. Honestly mostly I just blow him and he fingers me.”

Derek growls and stalks up to Stiles on the couch and leans over him. He rakes his fingers through Stiles’s hair -- yes, definitely a good idea on growing it out -- and tugs Stiles’s head back to kiss him.

It’s gentler than Stiles would’ve expected, if he had ever let himself entertain the idea of kissing Derek before, which he has mostly avoided for his own sanity, because up until about two minutes ago he was one hundred percent certain that Derek was one hundred percent unattainable. Now that all seems a little short-sighted, as Stiles’s lips part to welcome Derek’s tongue into his mouth.

It’s a long kiss, and Stiles gasps a little when they part. Derek’s eyes are dark, flaring red at the edges. Ridiculously, it turns Stiles on -- he can feel it tingling from his groin to his stomach to the tips of his fingers.

“So, uh, you want to become intimately familiar with my genital situation, too?”

Derek sighs, long-suffering, but Stiles is pretty sure the edge of his mouth tips upwards, too. “Yes, Stiles. I would like to become intimately familiar with your genital situation.”