#ftm!gaz

Everything that makes you nervous about transitioning when you start out, gaz is more than happy to help with.

He buys you what seems to be an excessive amount of binders, insisting that finding the right one is essential for you. Hands sweeping over your chest after he catches you wearing one for too long "I know it feels good, baby, but you need to take breaks, yeah? Mmh, I know its sore, let me help–"

When you get approved for hrt shots, kyle is right there. He administers your testosterone like he assembles a rifle. Quick, efficient, practiced. Never once do you feel nervous when kyle has his hands on you, murmuring "can't wait to see how you change, handsome. So nice, letting me help you, hm?"

You're sure he enjoys it just as much as you, if the way he insists on making out afterwards is any indication. Oh, and he's more than willing to help you with the sudden libido spike, fingers slipping into your boxers to note with pride "your dicks already so big! Mine took forever to grow. You're a natural, man."

Kyle loves seeing the man you're becoming, celebrates it everyday. Never once does he make you feel ashamed of choosing happiness, not like other people in your life.

Prompt: Exhibitionism (kind of) Characters: Gaz/Soap

look at me, posting two consecutive days that are correct. I'm on fire, don't expect it again.

@anonmousegosqueak @writer-fennec @ihaventgotaclue-really @sheissopink

Gaz strapped down to a surgery table in Nikolai’s basement— they’re borrowing the space just for a few hours. An IV dripping into his arm. An oxygen mask secured to his face. Price snaps on a pair of latex gloves, approaching the table where a tray of scalpels and forceps are set out. Gaz’s eyes are rolling in fear as he struggles weakly against his restraints.

smut below the cut, ftm!gaz x top!sub!male reader. please remember this is my first ever fic, so it's not going to be perfect. writing tips appreciated, but please don't be rude. very rushed, and did not proof read.

gaz is such a sweetheart. cuddling you every night and morning, helping you do chores around the house, cooking for you.

so why not return the favour?

as gaz climbs into bed with you, ready to cuddle, you surprise him by pulling his body on top of yours. this earns a little giggle from him.

"what're you doin'?" gaz asks with a quirked brow, his hands on your chest. god, his hands are so soft. always feel so fucking good around your cock. "just showing you how much i appreciate you, pretty," you whisper, your hands sliding into his boxers. you push gaz to lay down on the bed, noticing the way his thick thighs bulge ever so slightly where the boxers hug them, and you can't help but lean forward to pepper kisses all over his beautiful, brown skin.

gaz shifts slightly, moving to get comfortable, but begins to whine. "i wanna cuddle, want you to hold me," he whispers, laying next to you. you agree, of course—you'd never deny gaz of his wants, not when he's so sweet to you.

however, while you're cuddling, you can't help but notice the way gaz rubs his cunt against your thigh. "you need something, puppy?" you ask quietly, your voice a low grumble. he's such a tease.

after a moment with no response, you look down at him to find his fingers in his mouth. a cute sight, it is. pretty boy's got his mouth stuffed with his pretty little fingers to muffle his pretty little noises. can't have that, can you? no, you've got to hear him. got to hear what he wants, what he needs.

"words, pretty boy." you whisper as you pull gaz's fingers out of his mouth, kissing his plump lips softly. "you, need you," he whispers breathlessly, his wet fingers moving to rub his cunt.

you chuckle at the sight—it's adorable, really. how quickly gaz's moods change, from wanting cuddles to wanting your fingers inside of him. of course, you have no complaints—you're quite lucky to be able to have such a pretty boyfriend.

your long fingers tap at gaz's soft lips, requesting entry. he obeys, as usual, and begins sucking on your fingers. "that's it, attaboy," you praise, moving your fingers in and out of his mouth. when he starts to beg and babble around your fingers, you finally pull them out.

you take a quick moment to strip him of his boxers, admiring his cunt. he hasn't shaved, but with the way his pubes curl so prettily around his soft lips, it's worth getting a hair or two stuck in your teeth (snack for later). you poke at his entrance, cooing at the way he bucks his hips into your touch. "you like that, baby? yeah?" you whisper, kissing his inner thighs. "so pretty for me, baby, so good for me," you praise as you slowly push your fingers inside, the heat of his warm cunt around your fingers nearly making you moan.

as gaz squirms beneath you, begging for you to push your fingers deeper, you look up to admire him. his big, brown eyes full of pleasure and desire. he's so beautiful. only when his cunt flutters around your digits do you snap back into the moment, giving gaz what he wants.

you bury your fingers in his cunt, poking at his cervix. judging by the way gaz's back arches and his voice goes up a few pitches, you can tell he likes it.

shifting to lay beside him rather than between his legs, you pull your fingers out for a moment to rub his clit in soothing circles. "shh, pretty boy. i've got'cha. taking my fingers real deep, yeah?" you murmur, plunging your fingers into his wet heat once more.

this earns a loud moan from gaz, his arms wrapping around you. all he wants is to be close to you—how sweet. you rub his back, kissing the top of his head as your fingers slide in and out of his cunt. "there we go.. just like that, baby," you coo, curling your fingers against his sweet spot. gaz's nails dig into your back as he grinds down on your fingers, whimpering. "please, gonna cum, please," he begs you, his thighs shaking.

you thrust your fingers harder and harder inside of him, earning soft "ah, ah, ahs" from gaz. when he finally cums, he shakes as he holds you tightly, burying his face in your neck.

idk enough about animals in general to add details but the sizes in particular with the seals u just posted. like omg force fed by the team to gain weight bc females are lighter and 'youre clearly not a female'

This but with northern cardinal!reader??

Price taking one look at you, wings a dusky brown, and snorting. A hand reaching out to pinch at feathers and ignoring the way you yelp, "The hell's wing with your wings, kid?"

You furrow your brows, a bit insulted. Sure, you're not the prettiest gal, but by cardinal standards your wings are fine! You hardly get a word into your explanation before Price is frowning, hand coming up to grab your bicep, and the other one pulling out his phone. He sends a text you can't see then looks back to you "no they don't. You think that's what yer wings should look like? Fuckin' poor excuse of feathers is what that is. Cmon, me and garrick will fix 'em"

Which is how you end up here, in the base showers. You should have been more resistant, but you've always been self-destructive. Letting your superiors use you, or that's what you hope, isn't anything new. Call it self-destruction, call it fun. Either way, you don't mind. Sleeping around and hoping you'll finally find what every woman tells you about.

Your clothes had been swiftly removed by Kyle, a fellow cardinal hybrid. He's grinning at you like he's been given a delicious treat, manhandling you to kneel. Looking up to his captain as his fingers tug your wings open. "You need to hold still, okay? Price doesn't have the patience for squirming. The first time he did this he threatened to break my wings, so just- hold still?"

Which only makes dread pool in your stomach. What the hell does that mean? Silently, you are a bit curious. Your body at least seems to have guesses, judging by the way you're dripping, wings shuddering where Kyle touches them.

The only warning you get from Price is a "don't flinch" before large palms are scrubbing right against the dawny feathers at your back. The sudden pleasure arching through you, and thank god kyle switched to holding your shoulders, because his steady hands are the only thing stopping you from collapsing with pleasure.

"What– what are you doing–" you try to peek behind your shoulder, but Kyle grips your chin and forces your lips against his. Prices hands never stop moving, shoving over delicate feathers and lifting layers to rub at sensitive roots.

Just a few passes has your muscles locking up and orgasm rolling through you, quickly building to overstimulation as price just doesn't stop. He grunts when your wings snap closed in an attempt to push his hands away "Garrick, get him on the floor. Kids fighting it too much."

Kyle is happy to oblige, shoving you chest-first into the cool tile. Conveniently at the perfect position for him to grind his clothed erection against your face. God, you can hardly think with prices hands right back on you, mouthing at whatever Kyle wants. Your mind slowly melting away until all you can do is huff and try to stay conscious. "youre doing good. Just let price work, okay?" Kyle coos.

Finally, finally price's hands back away from your wings. Giving your hip a solid pat as he grunts and stands up. You don't try to move, boneless. Wondering what the hell this was all about when cold water suddenly splashes over your feathers and has you squawking indignantly.

Very much awake and sensitive wings screaming, you can only whine as your feathers are doused in ice-cold water. If you were more awake, you'd notice the red seeping into the drain. Presently, all you can do is cry in overstimulation until your vision darkens and you actually do pass out.

You come to in a warm bed, not your own, pressed in between bodies. Your instincts don't seem to mind, and they're usually right, so you let it be. Then the memories, that may have been a dream, of the shower come back and you're sitting up abruptly. Pulling your wings in front of you but– those are not your wings. They're bright red with a smoky undertone and undeniably male.

The body you were just lying on shifts, and Price sits up to watch you. He chuckles at the way you twist and turn to look at your back. "Like them, kid?" He pinches a primary and god– yeah those are your wings, "told you we'd fix them. Now you look like a proper fuckin' man, right?"

What. A man? You shoot up and duck into Price's bathroom. Stand in the mirror for a very long moment. You....you look like a guy. An actual, genuine man. Huh.

Johnny's periods are the heaviest, lasting a good seven to nine days, having him bleeding through the thickest pads that the BX sells within two hours or so. It's on the second day that his lips go white and his vision blurs around the edges if he stands up too fast. By the third day, he shakes just reaching for his iron supplements. He's lucky, and his cramps are manageable, almost forgettable. Just a tightening in his abdomen and briefly gritted teeth. Ghost has to put him to bed, with a towel under him just in case, and they definitely try out the period steak theory. Johnny gets force-fed iron-rich foods throughout the week, until he's begging for something other than beef, sardines, and spinach. Once the misery is over, Ghost still forces him to take it easy for another few days. Thankfully, though, his cycles are unusually long, sometimes 30-35 days, so that still gives him plenty of normal days.