I saw your requests were open and wanted to ask for a FTM trans reader, it can be with any character, I've been so deprived of transman representation that I'll literally take anything 🙏🙏
hey hey! thanks for sending something in <3 since ya gave me leeway in choosing the character, i'm gonna go with one of my fave characters!
i also kept the relationship somewhat vague, but it could be platonic or romantic! it's just dudes being dudes and getting into some innocent trouble.
BJ BLAZKOWICZ &/X FTM!READER - FIRST MEETING
WARNINGS: mentions of nazism (very brief; critical), casual drinking, pre-srs reader (fun fact: the first top surgery was conducted in australia in 1942, and the practice made its way to chicago in the 70s)
there is a lot of things you can do with a nazi and a hatchet. you'd heard the saying as some sort of rallying call amidst the american resistance, but you never quite knew how it started.
but then there was a trail of breadcrumbs. small things that lead to you getting into contact with someone involved with a larger group. they were your in to the eva's hammer, home of the largest resistance force out there.
the leader was a younger looking man by the name of wyatt. at least, you'd heard he was. when you finally did see him, though, it very much seemed like it was the rest of his inner circle taking the lead on operations. either way, you got along with the group pretty well.
things were awkward at first, understandably so, but there was just… a lot happening.
and that was when it became clear there was one member of the leadership you hadn't met yet: william j. blazkowicz. terror billy.
you'd heard legends of this man and the hell he'd gone through taking on some of the top cogs in the fascist machine. you'd seen pictures and videos of him. but seeing him in person? now that was a moment.
you remember climbing the narrow stairwell into "club kreisau," the little common area above the cantina where a few members found themselves playing pool or sipping back some cold drinks to forget the horrors outside the ship's hull. bombate had mentioned it in passing, saying you should make sure to drop by sometime and "remember to live a little" amidst it all.
that's how you found yourself at the bar, idly chatting with the french bartender about whatever came to mind. she offered a drink, but you shook your head for now. the thought to drink crossed your mind, but you'd rather get a feel for the atmosphere before lowering your inhibitions for the evening.
as the two of you chatted, the stool next to you was dragged out and a large shadow fell over the wooden counter. "ah, mr. blazkowicz. it is good to see you again. the usual?" the man beside you nodded, and she turned to sort through her stock.
his attention was on you, noticing the way you'd straightened your posture and subtly cleared your throat. he raised an intrigued brow, offering a minute wave of his hand. "at ease, newbie… you, uh, are new, right? not crossin' any wires i hope."
you nodded and introduced yourself, reassuring him that you'd only been with the group for a few days now. he gave a slow nod in response and offered a hand, saying it was nice to see people still fighting.
the bartender set a cold beer on the counter, and bj cracked it open. he took a slow, deep sip, savoring the coolness in his tired throat. as his head tilted back, you noticed the metallic gleam surrounding the circumference of his muscles. his gaze caught yours. "you drink?" you shrugged a little, and he nodded to the bartender to bring over another drink. you accepted.
and one thing led to another. and to another. next thing you know, the two of you were chasing shots and shooting the shit like you'd known each other your whole lives. the longer you drank, the thicker that sweet texan accent got, words slurring together with glee as he'd talked about this and that. then the two of you got the bright idea to hustle down to the shooting range and, quite literally, shoot the shit.
except you two didn't make it there.
instead, you took a detour that led to you, and some others who'd found themselves bored, engaging in some friendly wrestling. nothing too serious, but enough to break a sweat. some shirts came off, some didn't. yours did, and thus revealed the intricately placed medical tape sprawled across your chest.
bj was the only one who really seemed to notice it amidst the drunken haze, and his head tilted with a puppy-like curiosity. it was oddly cute, coming from a terrifying man like himself.
a creeping sense of unease settled in your gut, worried about a potential reaction. you'd seen the group was diverse, but you weren't sure if that extended beyond what you had seen so far. part of you expected the worst.
instead, you were simply met with a rather charming grin and an affirmative nod. the gesture was simple, but effective, both in its messaging and in bringing the man to nearly topple over against one of the chairs. you stepped over to help him regain his balance, and that grin became sheepish.
" 'll be alright. but, uh... mind helpin' me back to my room?"
after that night, your relationship with bj blossomed into something that made you feel right at home amidst the resistance.
