The drive is relatively quiet as you sit behind Soap on his motorcycle, the radio turned low enough you can barely hear it over the low rumble of the bike. You had been out drinking with some friends, eventually calling your friend to come pick you up from a random, dingy downtown bar.

The song on the radio ends, and with an excited gasp you immediately recognize the melody of Freak by Doja Cat as it starts to play. “Oh my God, Johnny, turn this up! I love this song,” you exclaim, the man letting out a chuckle at your excitement, reaching out and turning up the volume a couple notches.

Freak like me You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak Freak like me

After a few seconds, Soap turns his attention from the road, giving you a smirk as he listens to you hum along to the lyrics through the helmet mic. “Christ {{user}},” he grumbles, glancing between you and the road, his grip on the handles tightening. “This song is dirty as all hell.”