TJ

he/him, 18+ AO3 - TJ_22

[iceman-soup]

hiii introduction time!! + how my blog is formatted :)

about me:

he/him

trans ftm (pre-surgeries :( for now!!)

gay and asexual/ace-spec

adhd and autistic!! :)

CYMRAEG RAAAHHHHH 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

about my blog/fics:

mainly amab reader and masc reader - will occasionally do ftm reader if i feel up to it

i also write gn!reader quite often :D

i will never do fem!reader please don't request it!!

mainly top!reader but every so often switch or bottom reader

i write call of duty and at some point i might post top gun but idk

i am open to requests!! don't be shy :D

i mainly write drabbles or oneshots on here and i have my AO3 account in my bio!

reader pronouns will almost always be second person :)

who am i ok with reading my work?

short answer: most people!!! this is more just things to be aware of:

i write smut. like, almost every fic has smut at some point so. just be sensible judging whether you should be reading that or not

in terms of kinks - i tend to put praise in most fics i think? i also like to write other kinks fairly regularly - check the tagging/labelling subtitle for more info

i WILL NOT write pedophilia, racism, incest (including incest play/kinks), anything against any religion, transphobia, etc. please DNI if you support any of these

DNI if you're fem and read my masc stuff with a fem perspective. you have plenty of fem!reader stuff, plus i write gn!reader often, read that. not the masc!reader stuff.

^ that being said!! feel free to read my amab gn!reader stuff! i know a lot of mtf people might enjoy it and that's fine!! :)

how does my tagging/labelling work?

tags -

i will always tag smut or any kinks!! this will be seen as cw smut, or for kinks cw biting (for example)

don't be afraid to dm me, comment or write an ask if you think any tags are missing/would like something tagged!

ships/pairings will always be tagged

reader gender/agab will always be tagged

please block anything you're not comfy with rather than complaining :)

labels at the start of fics -

these are mainly just pairings and reader info, e.g. amab reader x character

important part! ^ this one means that reader is amab but gender neutral. not masc!

for masc amab reader, it would look like this: amab masc!reader x character

for ftm reader fics, i'll specify if it's pre or post top surgery (and bottom surgery if it's relevant), also masc reader is assumed

if a fic is tagged amab it will likely be smut; ftm will generally be angst/fluff or smut; gn has no mention of reader genitalia if it is smut but it isn't always sexual stuff!!

the colours don't matter btw i just like them :) there aren't enough to assign one to each character so don't overthink them (other than rottweiler!hybrid!soap, that'll always be orange)

sensitive/triggering topics -

i will always both tag these and label them at the start of the fic

please don't hesitate to message me/comment if i miss any!!

please bear in mind that if i'm writing topics like this they are generally from my own past/current experiences. i ask you to be respectful and be mindful of this when interacting with these posts especially :)

^ also please consider this if you want to request a fic with a sensitive or deep topic and forgive me if i feel i am unable to write it properly due to personal inexperience with the topic. thank you!

sorry this is long!! feel free to ask any questions as always :D

[iceman-soup]

roach with a thick somerset accent

[iceman-soup]

masc!reader × divorced!price

Knowing John Price from outside of the military - fuckin hell, knowing him from a toddlers' group of all places. You had both joined at roughly the same time, and being the only dads there rather than mums, you quickly stuck by each other, becoming fast friends since the first session.

Turns out, he'd had a shitty divorce a few years ago, and, well - his sweet baby girl got caught up in all the middle of it. She was a tiny baby at the time, but the legal stuff regarding her in the divorce was messy and Price barely managed to see her at all; and then her mother had been arrested for something or other (he didn't like to talk about it) and he had gained full custody, and arrangements were made for her to stay with his family whilst he was on deployment.

Your story was entirely different. The kid was technically your sister's - but she had died shortly after childbirth, and with no partner and an awful relationship with your parents, the two of you had agreed beforehand that if anything happened, you would become the baby's legal carer. But you'd called the boy yours after only a few months, and that's all you ever introduced him as now. Your son.

The toddler group wasn't great for either you nor Price, to be honest. The kids loved the playtime, which was good - but the parent "teachings" that the leader held were mostly encouraging weird outdated shit that wasn't worth listening to, let alone enforcing. Not to mention the constant repetition of how a single parent is a "bad" parent, which you scoffed at every time. Good thing about it was how you and John could sit at one of your houses after and shit talk it over a coffee.

Was he hot? Sure. Yes. Absolutely. It was the very first thing you noticed about him. But more than that you were genuinely grateful to have a friend; another single dad to lean on, to finally start talking about your sister's death and all the guilt you felt with your son. Someone who would actually get it.

Price started to come around to yours almost every day, even when the toddlers' group was only once a week. He insisted it was nicer than his flat, and the kids had more space to play anyway. You never minded. He took you over to his parents' house, introducing you to them. They were quick to befriend you and your child, mentioning how you should visit John's daughter there when he's on deployment.

Deployment. Forgot about that.

You laugh and nod, thanking them before you leave. You take your son to a play park and sit on a bench, watching him and just thinking. It doesn't take long til you realise you're thinking less about your friend being all captain-y and more about his smile you've come to adore being wiped from his face. About him coming home and there being more scars on his hands and arms than before. 'Cause you fucking counted. Realising he might not come home at all.

You go to his flat the next day, awkward small talk as the kids go off to play. He can tell something's up. He asks if it was his parents. Fucking apologises as if he did something wrong. You sit him down on the sofa, and rest your head on his shoulder.

"Dunno what to do," you start, eyes flickering shut when he combs a comforting hand through your hair. "You're such a great man, John. Dunno what I'd do if you went."

He looks at you for a moment; you can feel his gaze. Tilts your chin up with a calloused finger and brushes his lips against yours. It takes a second or two to process what's happening - and then you're kissing him again, his jacket balled up in your fists as you hold him closer, suddenly realise this is what it was all along. The hot, slightly traumatised dad had tripped you up and you fell fuckin hard.

All too quickly and you're lowering him down against the sofa, and his hands are on your back, and your tongue is prodding impatiently at his lip. Then he opens his mouth and you almost seem to melt into it, a soft groan in his throat, and you're lying on top of him, and his legs are around your waist-

"I'm not complaining," you hum between kisses, "but how is making out gonna help?"

He breaks apart. Looks at you with a sort of dog-like curiosity, mulling over the question for a second. Then his hands snake up to rest in your hair, and he smiles his signature smile. "Don't know. Just thought I wanted to kiss you. Won't fix me goin' on deployment, but-" he glances away, a flush creeping up his neck, "thought... thought you might be somethin' to come back to, y'know?"

You chuckle quietly, pressing your lips to his blush. "You askin' me out, John?" He kisses you tenderly, shuffling to sit up a little, pulling you onto his lap facing him.

"If you'll take me."

And you don't even have to think about it. "'Course I will."

[iceman-soup]

Hi🙋🏽

HELLO 👋👋👋👋

[iceman-soup]

happy Saint David’s day!! Patron Saint of wales and a nice dude :)

I visited my mom this week and she made corned beef and cabbage last night, as well as a welsh breakfast, lunch and dinner today. Honestly the best day of the year for someone who loves to eat like me (fast metabolism is a curse)

-🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 anon (I think I was this anon? I haven’t stopped by in a while)

happy St David's from yesterday!!! i think i need to visit your mam for next year's celebrations 🙏🙏

[iceman-soup]

FELLOW ACE!! Could I get some physical (but non-sexual) intimacy w/ Ghost? Thanks :D

YES OF COURSEEE ENJOY!!!!

masc!reader x ghost

Sometimes all anyone needs is a good nap, no matter how much they deny it or huff or grumble or say they've got "more important stuff to do". Sometimes it's necessary to drag them away from their endless tasks that they really don't have to worry about right now anyway, when instead they could be sprawled across their partner and forced to just rest.

Which is exactly how you have Ghost now. Sure, he'd resisted and complained and tried to dart back off to his office, but the moment you shut the door to your room, clicking the lock in place, he was entirely compliant in letting you step him out of his boots, slide the t-shirt over his head and swap out his work trousers for much more comfy joggers. He still huffed and rolled his eyes, yet when you started changing yourself he was quick to drop your shirt to the floor, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his nose into your neck.

"C'mere, love," you murmur, kissing the shell of his ear and guiding him to lie down on the bed, his tired frame blanketing over yours, grunting as he gets comfortable. He starts to get all whiny, grumbling incoherently and rubbing his masked face on your bare shoulder until you hold him still and gently ease away his balaclava, putting it - still in reach - on the bedside table. He meets your lips in a soft kiss, then pecks them around your face, targeting first the cheeks, then nose, then eyelids. It makes you laugh and he loves the sound; loves the feel as your chest rumbles against his, your hands holding his waist and his in your hair and over your heart. He settles down and his fingertips carry the bu-dum, bu-dum, bu-dum from your body to his.

You ask him about his day, a question anyone could present, but rarely will he answer properly like he does with you. Scarred lips curl into a tiny smile as he recounts each detail, talking quietly so that nobody could listen in if they tried. If you commented on that, he'd say it wouldn't matter anyway; there was no importance in rambling about the "incompetence of some recruits" (as he so elegantly put it). And of course, you would be inclined to disagree; hearing him go on and on about something as mundane as how had his day been - that was the favourite part of your own day, as you trace invisible patterns into his skin, running a finger over the ridges of his spine and feeling him just melt into you.

[iceman-soup]

Idk if your requests are open but would you be willing to write Ghost x FtM! reader who’s on testosterone and has bottom growth, please?

they are open thank you lots for the request!! and YES i would LOVE to

ftm reader x top!ghost

You'd been on testosterone a while now, but a big fuck you if you thought that was gonna make your little cock any less sensitive - in more ways than one. It had its moments, being fussy and sore and painful; in which times you'd go to Simon's office or bedroom (or drag him away from anywhere he was, really), whinging and complaining until he gave up whatever he was doing previously just to soothe and pay attention to you.

Sometimes, this was just sitting on his lap, maybe with an ice pack pressed to the area over your trousers to help numb some of the pain. He'd trace patterns into your thighs, murmuring praise and sweet words of affection as you grumble about how "it hurts, Si," and he'd compliment his pretty boy for being so good with it regardless.

Other times, you would pull him into a kiss the moment you had him alone, whining into his mouth and grinding desperately against his thigh, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you paw at his belt. He guides you to wherever the closest surface is, dipping his nose between your thighs once you're comfy. "This okay, love?" he'll check in before peeling away your boxers when you nod, humming contentedly as his mouth attaches around your dick and you groan quietly in appreciation.

"So fuckin' handsome," he likes to almost growl against your cunt, nose smushed against your tummy as he laps at it like he's dehydrated, jaw aching and your hands in his hair.

His eyes flick up to watch as your back arches when he pushes a finger into your hole, quickly adding a second and pumping them in and out to make you moan and your grip tighter, tugging his head closer and bucking up your hips to his mouth. Simon grunts and uses his other hand to push you back down to the bed, holding you there as you squirm and whine and cum, switching between sucking on your cock and cleaning your own mess up with his tongue.

"Good boy," he mumbles, taking his fingers out carefully so as to not hurt you and coming up to kiss you gently on the neck. Afterwards, he'll gather you into his arms, littering your face with kisses as he dresses you again, cradling you on his lap as he praises you and asks if it feels a little better now. Sure, it doesn't always fix things, but the head was fun regardless.

[iceman-soup]

hrng... soup i wanna make a CoD charecter (IDC who as long as U dont mind) get invested in mah music n just... hrng... cause Sabaton...

YES i think soap would fixated on Sabaton HARD and like. he hears them once then that's all he listens to for like 2 months (me too fr)

he forces the others to listen to them and gaz gets into it as well, each going to the other's rooms when he's playing them too loud (good volume)

[iceman-soup]

just wanted to say hi as a fellow transmasc cod fan, i love your writing and i hope you’re doing well!! 🫂

hello!!! thank you lots <3

i am doing great thank you!! :D i hope you're doing good too!!

[iceman-soup]

do you eat soup with ice in it serious question!!!

yes, on the regular

[iceman-soup]

the work song by hozier lyrics "no grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her" trend but with Ghost and his mother

[iceman-soup]

hi! i wanna ask something, is it okay for someone who's afab and identify as she/her read stories involving amab x male characters? thank you!

yes that's fine! if you feel like reading gay sex then by all means read gay sex

i do ask to keep my masc!reader stuff (where reader is a guy, whether that be amab or ftm or unspecified) to be kept just for guys though :)

[iceman-soup]

Hiiiiiii I love how you write Ghost. Could I make a request for him to be as desperate and pitiful/pathetic as you can make him? Can be x reader or x Soap! Thank you!!!!!

thank you lots!! and yes of courseee

amab reader x bot!ghost

0730 is too early for this shit, yet here you both are. You, with the coffee pot in your hand with a lost intention of making yourself a cuppa, and Simon, on his fucking knees as he nudges at your clothed dick with his nose, puppy eyes as he looks up at you and whines that he needs it, please.

Tears threaten to spill his waterline as he sort of tries to grind against your ankle, hands gripping your thighs and groping your ass, practically clawing at your trousers like a kitten trying to climb up them.

You're just grateful you're in the comfort of your own home, instead of trying to navigate this horny mess of a lieutenant in some office or barrack where anyone could walk in at any moment. Although, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, giving you the chance to finally show him off like this, your sweet boy begging for your cock...

"Fuckin' give it to me," said sweet boy pleads, lips grazing the tent in your trousers, pressing tiny kisses against the fabric then dragging his tongue over it to weaken your knees and extract a quiet groan.

"Bloody- fine-" you grunt, finally putting down the coffee pot and leaning against the counter, letting him free your leaking cock, grabbing a fistful of his hair and holding his mouth to the tip. "You happy now?"

He nods (to the best of his ability, anyway) and parts his lips, taking it into his mouth and moving one hand from your thigh to wrap around the base, squeezing gently. You moan and his eyes smile, tongue lapping out to coat the underside of your cock with his spit, forcing more of you down his throat. His eyes water and with a blink, a tear falls, and he gazes up at you, lids half-closed when you push his head closer to your body.

"So needy, Simon, fuck-" you mutter, doing all you can to not buck into him and startle him. He whimpers around your cock, the vibration making your grip on his hair tighten as you hold back from cumming right then and there. You pull him off you, ignoring his small sob and ramble of complaint, looking down to see his tongue still poking out of his mouth, a string of spit and precum still linking it and your tip. "Get up."

He responds instantly, one hand still around your cock and fisting it slowly as if you wouldn't notice, and the other moving to feel your pecs, pinching a nipple slightly as he tries to lean in for a kiss. Your lips connect for a brief moment before you gently push him away, taking his waist and using another short kiss to swap your positions around so he's against the counter instead, then easing his hands away from your body and turning him to face away from you, sucking a hickey high into the back of his neck.

"You want me to fuck you, love?" you purr, pulling down his trousers and teasing his hole with your wet cock. "You did such a good job making it nice and slick, didn't you?" He nods again, little begs and yes's, bending over the countertop and desperately pushing his ass closer to you, groaning when you enter him and barely letting himself adjust before asking why you aren't moving through a needy sob.

It doesn't take long before Simon's cum is dripping down the side of the counter, your hand milking more from his dick whilst you pound into him, feeding off his moans and cries and how he's hardly even holding himself up anymore, letting you do everything for him - to him. You're quite convinced he would let you go round after round, not asking to stop even when his eyes are dry of tears and his whole body is shaking and sensitive from the overstimulation.

He's completely dicked out by the time you cum, pelvis flush against his ass, groaning through gritted teeth and your fingers automatically clenching around whatever they're holding - which draws a loud cry from Simon as you squeeze down on his softening cock, and accidentally leave nail marks on his hip.

"Shit- Si-" he turns his head to watch your face as you pull out of him, both of you groaning softly at the feeling. "So fucking pretty, so-" your eyes are fixed on the creamy mess seeping out of him, and he sobs quietly in a tired attempt to get your attention. It works, and you help him stand, kissing him tenderly and leading him to the bathroom. "Better get you cleaned up, yeah?"

"Want more." He's sitting on the bathtub, playing with your hair as you flannel him down, pressing your lips to his thighs and looking up at him in surprise when he speaks. Your eyebrows furrow a little, and you shake your head, kneeling to meet his face and apologising with a kiss to the cheek. "Why not?" Sometimes, you think, he sounds like a stroppy toddler.

"Got a full day ahead of us, sweetheart. Can't have you all tired." He scowls but accepts it, letting you redress him and yourself and following you back to the kitchen to actually eat a bit of breakfast. You're right, of course... but you best prepare for him to be absolutely insufferable today, wanting you to fuck him around every corner.

[iceman-soup]

Question: Would Rottweiler!hybrid!soap have heats or ruts I was just thinking about this since he's a hybrid and all and if he did have those would he have to get neutered or can he control it?

oooo i haven't actually thought about this

i would say not so much, due to his reproductive system and sex organs being human, but it's an interesting idea and i wouldn't rule it out completely

either way i love the idea of the others joking about neutering soap/him already being neutered, i imagine ghost would joke about it most like "at least i have balls" or "calm down or we'll have to chop 'em off"

[iceman-soup]

request!

sorry if you've done this already, but what would Ghost and Soap's first leave together look like? could be sfw or nsfw, everything is up to you

yes yes yesss this is sfw because my descriptive brain took over, also autistic ghost supremacy 🫶🫶

ghost x soap

Simon wasn't ready to meet Johnny's family yet. Hell, they'd only been dating five or so months before deciding to stick with each other on leave, and by that point it was far too stressful and overwhelming to think about meeting a whole bunch of new people to mask around and make good impressions. Ghost needed the time off to re-regulate, and honestly, Soap wasn't up to introducing a boyfriend he had barely warned his mother about beforehand.

So instead the two taxi'd over to Manchester from the airport, arriving at a tiny, cheap flat with even cheaper security cameras dotted on each outside wall and above the front door. "Enough of a deterrent, even if half don't work," explains Simon, seeing Johnny looking around curiously. He unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch, baited breath for a couple of moments as he appears to listen for anything unusual, before opening the door properly, flicking on the warm overhead lights and pulling Soap in by the hand, who gazes at the inside of his flat whilst Ghost locks the door again.

"Dinnae take you for an interior designer, Lt," John grins, glancing at the taller man before going back to admiring the space. It's dusty, sure, but otherwise not quite as awful as expected, and although cramped, holds a feeling of comfort and rest. The two are standing in the kitchen, cupboards naked oak wood and counters hand-painted daffodil yellow, the honey-coloured floor tiles chipped but superglued back together. The image of Si sitting cross-legged on the ground fixing them fills Soap's mind, his heart fluttering at how domestic his lieutenant suddenly seems.

There isn't a wall between the kitchen and living room, and Johnny takes that opportunity to wonder straight through, taking note of a comfy-looking secondhand sofa to cuddle up on together later. An old TV with a jumble of cables is stood upon a coffee table, which simultaneously doubles as an actual coffee table, evident by a few mismatched coasters with just as many water marks as the surface they're supposed to be protecting. Splintering wood in the tried-to-be-aesthetic bare floorboards are covered by a granny rug which contrasts the baby blue walls surprisingly well. Two doors lead off from the living room, and Ghost walks over to the first one, opening it to show the other.

"Bathroom," he comments as if it isn't obvious. There's nothing extraordinary about it, but Soap does notice his unwavering loyalty here and on base to his very specific shower products - of course. He nods and they move on, entering the fourth room. Si hovers at the doorway whilst Johnny wanders inside, taking in the bedroom.

Most of the space is taken up by a double bed pressed up in the far corner, white paint on the metal frame missing in spots, showing its age. The bedding is black with little bone prints patterning it, soft cotton and all matching. Shoved next to the bed is a chest of drawers, one of the handles missing and replaced with a nail bashed into the wood. Hung up precariously on the picture rail over it is Simon's formal uniform - clearly unused for years due to his skilful avoidance of social events. Again, the floor is stripped of carpet (the bedroom in slightly safer condition than in the living room) and the walls are painted, this time a pale pink and dotted with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars.

"Never got them as a kid," Ghost mutters, gesturing to the stars and then the general soft colours of his flat. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, avoiding eye contact - and subsequently his boyfriend's loving smile too. "You want something to eat? I don't have anything," he adds quickly.

"We can go doon to the chippy?" John suggests, walking over to kiss him tenderly. "Or if you don't feel like seein' people, I could order us something." The taller man nods at the second option, then proceeds to wrap his arms around Soap's waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck and pressing his lips to the skin, simply savouring his warm embrace.

"I love you, Johnny. I'm happy you're here."

The next few days go by far too quick for either's liking. They're spent with long mornings just laying in bed, doing fuck all on their phones in the oddest cuddle positions known; alternatively, smothering each other in hugs and kisses until they have to give them attention until they're satisfied. Time is spent plodding around the flat, wearing pyjama trousers and fluffy socks and with blankets draped over their bare shoulders.

Meals are cooked with very little skill but a whole lot of try, so at least that's something. Neither go out much; just to the shops when they need something or one night to get fish and chips from the good place across the street. They eat sitting on the countertop or the sofa, watching some shitshow with a laugh track that winds Simon up.

Evenings involve making out during conversation, quietly murmuring and laughing between kisses, chests pressed together so their hearts can talk directly. Ghost realises he's never felt so safe and content on leave before this one night when they're lying in bed, a dim lamp the only light in the room as he runs his fingers through Soap's hair, now slightly curly from growing out whilst not on base. It's quiet, but not in the lonely, terrifying way it usually is when he's alone in the flat, left to his own thoughts for however long between deployments.

Maybe, just maybe, leave will become something that he doesn't dread anymore. And perhaps next time - he thinks, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and flicking off the lamp - it might be nice to meet Johnny's family.

[iceman-soup]

ftm reader (post top surgery) x top!price

Thinking of Price finger fucking you in his office: you're sat on his lap, facing him and half-leaning backwards against the edge of the desk. He's got one hand on the small of your back, holding you up, and the other down your trousers, gentle touches to your wet heat before shoving two of his thick digits in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your bare chest.

Your shirt lays crumpled on the floor next to his chair, the only piece of clothing from either of you taken off. He insists it gets in the way, but you both know he just loves to see and feel your pretty scars, kissing them and reminding you how handsome you are whilst he curls his fingers inside your cunt, only going faster when you groan or whine.

And of course he's never stingey with the praise, calling you a "gorgeous lad," kissing you softly and breaking apart to murmur how you're his "best boy," to your lips as you moan.

[iceman-soup]

gn!reader x bot!soap

Price who tells the K-9s off for sitting on the sofas and chairs, and you who teases Rottweiler!hybrid!Soap by also telling him off when he sits on the sofas and chairs.

And he knows it's bullshit because he's seen you pull Riley (and all the other dogs) up onto the sofa to sit with you when Price isn't there, but he still isn't really sure how to react whenever you tell him "Soap, off."

The first time you did it, he sort of just stared at you blankly, with Gaz and Ghost wheezing with laughter over to the side. Price's grin was immaculate as he turned to Soap and said "off," joining the other two's wheezing when he actually slinked to the floor.

But then you start doing it far too often for his liking, and he finally snaps back whilst you're both staying the night in a safe house, along with Price. You tell him "Soap, off," when he curls up on a bed, and he glances at Price, then stares you straight in the eye, scowling as he stands up.

"Guess you'll have to fuck me on the floor, then."

It goes silent as Price's laughter just stops, then clears his throat awkwardly and leaves the room. You can feel a harsh blush on your face, cock hardening, but you don't break the eye contact. "Guess I will."