Five Hargreeves x Trans!Male Reader

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Plot: The reader is a transgender male who is struggling with body dysphoria and tries to deal with being reminded that he was once a female. Five is there to support him and remind him that the reader is indeed a man.

Author's Note: To be honest, it felt weird writing this. I'm a female and I don't feel like I should be writing this. I feel like someone with these actual experiences should write this. This is also why I'm turning to my friend Axel, who is transgender and having him help me write this. I would love to write more stuff like this in the future, so please send in more requests! Also, if you're struggling with body dysphoria, please feel free to talk to me about what's going on. I love you guys and I wanna help ya'll! I love you guys and remember that you're all special in your own way! Also go check out more works on my Tumblr!

Warnings: BODY DYSPHORIA! Basically, if you're sensitive to any content regarding transphobia I guess.

Requested: Yes by ​

Key: E/C = Eye color; B/T = Body type; S/C = Skin color

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      My chest ached at the feeling of my binder crushing the two lumps of fat that remained hanging on my body. Then again, it's my fault for making it so tight, but I've been wearing it all day. I just wanted to look completely flat; is that too much to ask for? To be born with the correct body and to have people accept you for who you are? I just want to look how I was meant to be born; I wanted to be born a man. Is that too hard? Is it too hard to be accepted for who I want to be, who I was meant to be? I'm not harming anyone, yet only a handful of people in my life support me rather than everyone. These people are the only reason why I stay sane. They're the only reason I haven't given up my dream of having top surgery. Though, the topic of transitioning from female to male didn't settle well with my parents.

     Here I am, standing in front of my body mirror with tears brimming my (E/C) eyes which were glaring at my (B/T) (S/C) body. I hate it. I hate my body. I hate every damn thing about it! I couldn't even look at myself without feeling the dysphoria creeping up my back like it's a damn spider. I can't even look down without seeing the two lumps of fat on my chest and what lies between my legs, I can't even tell my parents about what I'm feeling because I know what their views on transgender people, and they're not positive.

     It hurts to know that you can't become who you want to be; who you are meant to be. It fucking hurts to hear people call you something that you're not and to be constantly reminded that you're different, and when people think of different, they think, "Oh, that's weird." Weird eventually leads to people thinking the people or things that are weird as inferior to them. It's beneath them. Do you know how much it hurts to hear your loved ones bash the people in your community just because they're different and think that they're weird? They say those things then turn right to you and tell you that they love you for who you are. No, they don't, but then again, they don't know I'm the very thing they despise.

     It's scary to know they if they found out your secret, you'll change right before their eyes into a hideous, mutated monster. They'll kick you out, act like they don't know you, humiliate you and force you to wear the clothes they want you to wear, and they'll do whatever they can do to convince you it's a phase and you aren't who you think you are. I'm terrified of the day they remind me constantly of the things that make me what they want me to be.

     I'm so fucking insecure about how my shirt hugs my body, and how I can't wear underwear without wanting to bawl my eyes out because they're not boxers. Sure, I have other insecurities that everyone else has, such as how some people don't like the size of their nose, the color of their eyes, or even the amount of fat they have on their bodies. I can't change myself though without anyone really noticing what I'm trying to achieve. I had to convince my parents I was just going through a phase just so I could get my hair cut short enough to where it chopped off some of the dysphoria I carried around.

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 22, 2020 ⏰

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