Guys i need more bluegiragi fanfics please their au’s go so fucking hard (also this is based on an oc if you guys desire to see him ill post him)
-the boys courting reader, readers too old and lived so long that courting and mating habits have changed so he has no fucking clue
-Reader who believes he’s too old for relationships but when Johnny pats his shoulder to congratulate him for a mission gone well, Reader’s pussy throbs and his tail curls into itself
-Reader who despite his age hasn’t been on a date nor had sex due to being a workaholic and finding it to be useless—his mind changes seeing the boys in the locker room
-Reader who’s so battle worn and broken and the lightest touch from the boys makes him melt
-Soap who intentionally wraps his tail around Readers tail
-Reader who made it through his heats by sparring or going on missions, even when he wished he was curled in his nest with another man to breed him
If you guys want more spicy head canons send me some requests, can someone please turn this into a full fic; if you do just credit me for the idea that’s all
I love your writing A LOT and i was so nervous to ask but i miss your COD writing sooooo.. what if. Ftm reader. But like fully transitioned ftm reader who's built like a brick wall and soap 141 finds out only by accident, like they see his scars in the showers or something. It's just so rare to find anything written with trans men who arent soft pre everything uwu boys + your mlm writing is GLORIOUS!
Task force 141 x FTM reader
Headcanons
I gotta admit, it's been a while since I've written or read cod content, so I might be kinda rusty, but I'll give it a go. Do you guys have any idea how hard it was not to make the guys ftm too? It's like an itch I can't scratch. I blame @rawme-price
reader hasnt had bottom surgery yet, cuz I want to.
I stabbed the FUCK out of my hand earlier today, so it took extra time writing this, lmao. dont play with knives folks.
John Price
Honestly, I feel like Price already knows. Hes got access to your medical records, ya know? He just never mentions it, or mentions how your “special delivery” is your T-shot.
I don't see him actually caring much, outside of making sure you are well, and you aren't being disrespected. It's not really a secret that a lot of trans people suffer with things like depression, so he looks out for that too.
Price gives the vibe of someone who will actively go out of his way to help you hide it, if you aren't open about it and want to keep it to yourself.
Price will see your scars for the first time after you get hurt on a run and you need somebody to make medical decisions for you, and as your superior, that's his job. Seeing you hurt also means he cares even less about your gender, he just needs you to be alright.
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Gaz is polite about it when he sees your scars and your lack of a cock, or well. You have one, a pretty big t-cock after so many years on T, but you know what I mean.
And by polite, I mean he doesn't mention it. It's not really his place to say anything, and he knows you're a great shot, even if you can be pretty secretive and keep to yourself.
Having accidentally seen you in the shower helps clear up to him why you keep to yourself for the most part. They had all just assumed you were like Ghost, a private guy who only spoke when needed.
If you guys do end up talking, Gaz will ask some questions, just out of curiosity and respect. And yeah, he found you hot before and still does. Maybe a little more, but that's because he fantasizes about you putting him in an amazon position.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Straight up does not give a fuck. Ghost has his own secrets, so who's he to go digging in yours? Hes seen way too much shit in his life to care about who you were before. All that matters is who you are now.
One of those supportive quiet guys. You'll find your “secret delivery” tucked neatly away in your quarters, even when you swear you've locked it. Or you'll find out the new recruit who was spewing transphobic shit is no more. Where is he? No one knows.
Ghost will be curious, but he isn't gonna ask. He knows what it's like to have people digging. Instead, he just ends up on forums, doing a lot of research on his own.
And so, what if he ends up on some more spicy forums, reading up the best ways to pleasure a t-cock and the most respectful ways to go about it. Ghost doesn't know if he's ever gonna use that knowledge but... better be ready, just in case.
John “Soap” MacTavish
Soap stares, and it's so obvious. Not in a disrespectful way, no. Instead, you think he's drooling... but come on, how could he not? He already found you as hot as the sun itself, and now this?
Soap isn't a chaser, he couldn't care what's between his partners legs, but he just finds you got in general, so anything attaches to you is mouthwatering. He does end up apologizing for staring so blatantly, and probably makes some comment about how attractive you are along the way.
Call me crazy, but I like to think Soap is somewhat in touch with himself and the community, so he's been with some trans guys before, but none as big as you, or as far along. It means he knows the right terminology and stuff too.
Hes always been flirty, and knowing doesn't change that. Soap doesn't even change how he flirts, why would he? You are still the same person, through and through. He won't mind if you want to show him a little closer though.
reader who, after the first ultrasound, finds out... theres 5 kids. and (it gets worse) two of them... are identical twins.
(i feel as though, if im going to make this an actual story, it should be mentioned that reader is white- for child/ genetics reasons)
Reader who assembles all of their boyfriends in the common room and tells them: "Theres five of them."
Soap, Roach, and Alejandro who immediately start asking questions. Horangi who's getting smug, thinking about how useful he could be to reader.. and how much more debt he'll get into.
Gaz who's just stunned and confused. "Five, you said?" He repeats.
Price and Nik who are just sitting there. Price smoking, until Nik takes it right out of his hands and gets a puff for himself. He needs it.
Koenig who's muttering a prayer in German before gently checking on reader. A hand on his shoulder and a kiss to his forehead.
And Ghost.. who just stares. He looks ready to either murder someone or to kill himself. To anyone on the outside of his brain, he looks horrifying right now, but internally he's both excited.. and absolutely wrecked because he wants to be nothing like his own father.
✭warnings: content 18+, FTM reader, male pronouns, sweet nicknames.
✭synopsis: all that Konig was left alone at home and he couldn't get you out of his mind
König closed his eyes when he felt your walls squeezing down on his cock, it was his fault that he was in this situation, he was needy all day, while you worked away König couldn't stop thinking about you.
König who was originally watching television but his mind wandered to your body, how beautiful you looked as you rode his cock, the way you called him a good boy and stroked his beard.
König couldn't help but get hard at the thought, his hand instinctively moved to his cock, he started with slow, sloppy movements, he closed his eyes and threw his head back moaning as he imagined you humping his cock and calling him a good boy.
König began to remember the night before and moan, the memories of you stroking his beard and pressing your thumb to his lips, as your hips moved back and forth on his ass, while he moaned and looked at you smiling at him.
-Who's my pretty boy? Who's taking my cock so well - König groaned at your words and thrusts, he closed his eyes and held out his hand for you to take.
-It's me, I'm your good boy, Bitte, bitte lass mich abspritzen - König says moaning while holding your hand tightly and groaning, it wasn't often that he was so close to cumming.
König comes back to reality when he hears the door open and sees you coming in, he tries to disguise it but the look on your face says it all.
König's actions resulted in the two of you watching some series that he already wanted to watch, but he couldn't focus on the series because his cock was inside you and he couldn't move.
I just came across a video of a trans man (ftm) saying that he could not stretch his arms after his top surgery so like...trans reader? This may be goofy af
Like chat you just got your top surgery, you can finally walk around shirtless but you are hungry. Now you go to the cupboard (is that what is it called?) and you need to feed your mistical cravings.
Sadly the food you need is on the highest shelf and you just stare at that like the monster under the bed stares at the hand of the kid that his touching the ground while asleep.
You just stare at that, the mythological box of food you need being just a few bits away, normally you could've just gotten it by reaching it with your arms but no, not now.
Enters Ghost
"Got those godly cravings again?"
"Yes."
"Need help reaching it?"
"Yes"
You stare at that like a mad man. He swore he could see a thin string of saliva escaping your parted lips.
*He gets it*
"There you go"
"Yes"
"What is this?"
"Food for the growing man"
"...."
"I'll be able to know what is like to have a cold as a man...."
"...."
You go out munching a good chunk of food
Ghost is there like: "have the hormones messed up your ADHD brain again?"
Kinktober 2025 Day Six: Outdoor sex + Intoxication
MDNI 18+
Pairing: Gaz x ftm!Reader (mentions of sucking off, cock, folds, cunt, being wet, stuff like that.)
CW: Smut, obviously. Bit of a slow-ish burn here folks (at least compared to my other entries, lmao). Dub-con. Semi-public (alleyway). Reader + Gaz are drunk. Probably inaccurate depictions of being drunk (I've never personally indulged, but I tried my best to make it somewhat realistic lol). Implied friends to lovers. Banter/teasing. Drunk kissing. Brief dry humping/grinding. Reader gets head. Light fingering. Porn with slight plot. Not Beta Read.
I've just accepted I'm going to be like, a day behind on my posts at this point, oh well.
Hope y'all enjoy this anyway, lmao.
"No, you've got to be taking the piss, like, seriously?" The noise of the pub fades to a muted murmur as the backdoor eases into place, the lock clicking affirmatively behind you both.
Kyle lets out a sort of sniggering sound — albeit slightly slurred — and his shoulders shake, though you're only mildly aware of it, mostly due to how his jacket crinkles from the movement. Water splashes underneath his boot as he clips the edge of a puddle. "Hand to god, I'm telling the bloody truth— he's jus' that much of'a prick." An easy smile pulls at the corners of his mouth — making his cheeks form little dimples — it hasn't budged since sometime around his third pint of the night.
You just scoff, and shove at his shoulder, sending him tottering a wobbly few feet to your left, though the distance doesn't stay for long as you trail after him. Even with the comfortably warm fuzz lazing over your mind, his bullshit story still didn't sound believable. "Ye're a terrible liar, Garrick, now I know ye're havin' me on."
His hand finds your wrist as he lilts backwards, shoulder catching the brick wall before he steadies himself, still smiling as he tilts his head to meet your eyes. "Yeah? And what makes you say that now?"
It seems in the time it takes you to blink, you've somehow moved closer again. The toes of your boots clumsily bumping his as your hand not caught in his grip flutters up to rest on his cheek.
The pads of your fingers brush along where the dim street lamps' light catches against his cheekbones — dusting them in a soft bronze — then dip lower, following the shallow grooves of the scars on his cheek. This close you can feel when his breathing slows to be in time with the fluttering of his lashes and the gradual furrow forming between his thick brows. He says your name through a soft exhale, which finally spurs your brain into processing his question.
Carefully your touch drifts once more, grazing the pad of your thumb along his jaw, then doing it again just to memorize the sensation how his stubble scuffs your skin. "Can tell jus' from ye're eyes," it takes a bit of concentration, but you manage to lift your gaze from his bottom lip up to his eyes, impossibly brown and unreasonably soft and bright for the hour as he looks at you. Distantly you're aware of the way he gently squeezes your wrist, drawing your attention back to the conversation, "they're all shiny like ye're full'a shite."
A loud laugh startles from Kyle's body, you're pressed close enough that you can feel the way it buzzes through his chest. "Fucking hell," he says through an exhale, "you're absolutely pissed." There's more approval in his voice than there really ought to be, considering the words.
You graze the backs of your knuckles down the column of his throat, and take mild delight in feeling it shift under your touch as he swallows. "M'perfectly fine," you lie through your teeth as you let your nail catch on the chain of Kyle's dog tags that were just barely peaking out from under the collar of his shirt; the metal is warm even with the slight chill in the night's air, you give them a light tug, guiding him to dip his head forwards at the pressure, "not m'fault your eyes give y'away." It's only as Kyle's loosening his hold on your wrist to slide his hand higher, tentatively threading his fingers between your own do you realize you can feel his breath ghosting your lips in soft little puffs.
"Sure," he allows placatingly, his smile twitching at the corners, "that's what it must be, 'cause you're jus' bloody brilliant at holding your liquor."
Low in the back of your throat you scoff, before closing the short distance between you both to press your forehead against Kyle's, "don't start with tha' now," your fingers slowly draw his dog tags out from under his shirt, they make a quiet clinking sound as they hit against themselves before settling against his breastbone, the pad of your thumb traces over the raised lettering, "I can drink circles around you and you know it."
The corner of his eyes crinkle softly as he scoffs, and rolls his eyes, it would look almost playful, if it weren't for the way his gaze narrows slightly with a slight edge of a challenge. His other hand follows along the seams of your jacket, eventually settling against your ribs. As he speaks, you can feel his throat buzzing under your knuckles, "oh come off it, if I weren't holding you, you'd be flat out on your arse," there's a lilt to his voice, like he's teasing, but you're close enough that you don't miss the way his eyes spark, as if some part of him actually believes that.
To your clouded mind, the blatant lack of confidence in you is a grave offense, one that wasn't going to slip by without a dig of your own. Your fingers wind through the chain of his dog tags even more securely, to the point where the pattern was sure to remain pressed into your skin, even once you let it go. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, mate. 'Least I can hold it well enough to not get whiskey dick."
Silence stretches between you both, filled only by the muted sounds of the pub that manage to drift through the back door, and the sound of tires on asphalt that occasionally pass by at the head of the alleyway. You just watch every little shift of Kyle's expression as he process that comment like it's the most interesting thing you've ever seen, as if you were doing your best to fight through the haze of alcohol to try to cling to the memory all the way through until morning.
Eventually the moment pops, fizzling away as Kyle giggles — it's a light, airy sound that practically has to fight it's way out of him — scrunching the bridge of his nose while he does, "you're such a fucking arsehole," he grumbles. You find yourself laughing too, though whether that be because you delighted in annoying him, even if it had no teeth, or simply because Kyle was, and you couldn't help yourself with the way the sound made your skin buzz, you weren't entirely sure. Regardless it resulted in you both slumping into each other even harder.
You're not entirely sure what happened, in one moment both of your chuckling petered off, softening until you were both left trying to pull what little composure you had left in your bodies back into some semblance of calmness, panting quietly while tangled around each other, and in the next your lips were pressing together. It was soft at first, as if accidental, just another way you both brushed together due to unsteady feet; but then it happens again, with slightly more intent, again and again, lazy presses that send sparks down your spine and make your head spin more than anything you've drunken tonight has.
Kyle's hands slip — not that you notice all that much, far too preoccupied trying to lick the taste of cheap beer from his mouth — and cradle your jaw, pressing into your skin as if trying to keep you close. Each press and slide of your mouths gets longer and longer, bodies swaying as you trade kisses back and forth, until you're both breathing hard in the short moments you break away from each other. Eventually even when you stop kissing, keeping your heads pressed together while panting softly, you both keep swaying, messily grinding against each other. You can feel Kyle's cock through his jeans, rubbing against your thigh with every unsteady rock of his hips; his knee is pressed between your legs, the perfect height for you to rock down on as you mouth at his jaw.
"Guess I was wrong about the whiskey dick."
"Oh fucking hell," Kyle grunts, grabbing your hips and trying fruitlessly to guide your movements to find better friction, it doesn't work particularly well, both your movements horrendously uncoordinated, "if I suck you off will you shut up for five minutes about that?"
While it was mostly said in exacerbation, it still has you groaning against his throat as your head falls forwards, resting against his shoulder. "'Suppose tha' could be arranged."
Adrenaline thumps through your veins as you're pushed back against the brick wall, and Kyle sinks to his knees in front of you, fumbling with your belt as he kisses your abdomen through your shirt. Your breathing goes a little unsteady as you watch him, your hands running over every part of him you can reach — mindful not to crush his curls — as he pulls your trousers down, your boxers following soon after, the wet patch that had begun to form on them fairly visible, even in the low light. Kyle just looks up at your through his lashes with a wordless smirk, clearly amused.
You just huff at him, spreading yourself open with your own fingers, cock already aching for attention, even as your cunt continues to drool from his proximity and being out in the open like this, "yeah, yeah, Garrick. Get on with it, or you can walk back to base with a stiffy."
He grumbles something you don't quite catch under his breath, but does as you ask, pressing forwards and taking your cock into his mouth, as both his hands find the backs of your thighs, tugging you closer.
"Fuck— Kyle… That's it… Shit." Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as his tongue laps at the underside of your cock, sending steady pulses of heat down your spine while he sucks like he's trying to pull you as deep into his mouth as possible. There's a little furrow between his brow, as if he's concentrating on the taste of you, trying to draw even more of it out of you just to drink it down.
Distantly, you're fairly certain you're murmuring a steady babble of more low praises for him, for his tongue, but you hardly notice, far more occupied with the way one of his hands tucks under your knee, slinging your leg over his shoulder, while the other slips between your legs, letting his middle finger stroke over your hole, playing with the mess you were making, and occasionally dipping inside you before drawing right back out, teasing you with the feeling.
Kyle keeps on like that, teasing and prodding and sucking, slowly stoking your pleasure, building a coil of need in your abdomen that was dizzying as much as it stole your breath from your lungs. Your hips give little abortive thrusts, grinding your cock against his tongue as the muscles in your thighs twitched and jumped.
It doesn't take him long to have you hissing curses through your teeth as your body shudders, your cunt giving pulsing squeezes around nothing that has you whining as you try to press your cock as deep into his mouth as you can manage. Sparks jolt up and down your spine, fizzling out in the back of your head.
When it all starts to become too much, you gently push at his forehead, and Kyle pulls back, pressing a few lazy kisses to your thigh, before just resting his head there.
Once you come back down and catch your breath, you're pulling at his clothes, drawing him to his feet and kissing him, he just laughs — slightly foiling your efforts — as you flip you both around, pressing him against the wall again, "your turn, Garrick," you manage to get out.
That familiar grin pulls at Kyle's lips, still covered in your slick, and making his dimples pop, "do your worst."
Thanks for reading!
Fun fact, the reason I started writing x reader fics for CoD was because I wanted to read ftm!reader x soap fics, and couldn't really find many (which later became a want for more gn! and amab! reader fics as well). Be the change you want to see in the world and all that, I guess, lmao.
about to go in like a mini road trip and im cooking with some johnny x ftm reader before i leave so enjoy!
imagine dating johnny for a while and, for a reason you dont tell him, youre just not ready to have sex. hes fine with that, hes got toys and porn, he can take care of himself, and enjoys sending you proof of that every chance he gets (he asks permission to send every time even if you tell him he can without asking, he just wants to make sure youre comfortable!)
so now imagine when you do tell him you wanna try? hes over the moon! he's so ready to make love to you however you want, baby boy, dont worry your pretty little head.
"but uhm, i have to tell you something first, okay?" that catches him off guard, what could you need to tell him right now? he nods silently tho, allowing you to tell him on your own time. you take a deep breath and sigh before looking him straight in the face and going, "i dont have nipples."
hes silent for a second, lips curling slowly, then hes laughing... "wot are ye on about, luv?" he can't help himself! hes so confused as to how this is a thing and why you think he'd give a single shit.
you flush, messing with your hair before continuing, "well, i mean, you know im a Trans guy but i didnt exactly tell you this part! stop laughing at me!" you cant help but chuckle, face burning up slightly.
he slowly stops laughing, having to wipe away a tear in the process. of course he knew you were trans in some capacity, you never gave him extra details though, and he never pried. but now hes just curious how you dont have nipples. "aye, sorry, luv. just... can i ask: why?"
"why what? why dont i have nipples? or why am i telling you?" you ask, earning you a chuckle again, which you give your own in reply.
"why don' ye? and why do ye think i give a damn?" he really doesnt give a flying fuck, he just wants to make you feel good, hes dying to at this point
"well, uh, because i got top surgery a couple years back and if i kept them, they'd be cosmetic, no feeling or anything, so i didn't bother keeping them... but its... freaked out a couple guys ive slept with in the past, so i wanted to tell you," you squirm slightly as he looks at you. hes clearly having the time of his life right now, aside from the very obvious tent in his pants.
"well, i appreciat' that, luv, i do. but the only thing i really care about is making you feel good... so, can i do that?" you nod, cheeks burning up again, and he smirks. "good, because iv' been dreamin' about this for weeks and a've got all night to make all my dreams a reality..."
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little note down here bc i forgot to put it up top, if anyone has any critiques about me making reader's persona white coded, pls lmk! i just ask you be at least not rude about it pls? id like to learn whats white coded and whats not so i can be better about not making those mistakes so often. x reader fics are supposed to be for anyone, and ive fallen victim to many scenarios where thats not the case, i dont ever want that to be worsened by my writing
