all-purpose-dish-soap - Tumblr blog

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Could we get Gaz reacting to reader spreading rumours on base that they're dating for no good reason other than to undermine his authority and piss him off? (Inspired by your reader flirting with Gaz on the job piece) 🙏

tasty tasty tasty.

ok so there is a reason other than undermining his authority. but a pissed-off Gaz is a pissed-off Gaz, right?

26 / 1.4k / comes after flirting with Gaz on the job

...

You're on your way to a briefing, eyes cast down on the paperwork in your hands. You did not do your homework, as usual, so you're skimming what you can in the four minutes it takes you to walk to the meeting room.

Which is why you almost don't see Gaz standing in front of you, arm braced on the wall, blocking your way. To someone else, he'd read as neutral. You know his face too well to misread the stern glower tightening his features.

"Excuse me," you say, trying to sidestep him.

Gaz doesn't move. He also clearly knows he can't be moved. Not by you.

"Late for a meeting?" he asks lightly.

"No, sir, but I will be in just a few minutes. So if you don't mind--"

"Not at all," he says in a voice that implies the opposite. "Since you're about to be late anyway, how about you and me have a little chat, yeah?"

"I couldn't possibly take up more of your valuable time," you say, slipping into the flirtatious tone you so often direct at him. You try to slide past him, but nothing escapes Gaz. "Though I'm flattered you'd--"

He grabs your arm. Not roughly—he never touches you roughly, probably because you’d just egg him on—but firmly enough not to be ignored. "With me, Private."

You're too flustered to resist as he pulls you through the halls and into a different office. Captain Price's office, you notice.

“Have a seat.” He gestures to the chair in front of desk, then sits himself on Price’s chair. The corner of his mouth curls up. That’s unnerving.

You don't sit. "Sir, I appreciate your urgency, but I really must get to my briefing. Shepherd will wonder where I am."

Gaz's stare is steady as a hawk's. You'd love the chance to gaze into his eyes under any other circumstances. But now?

"Then Shepard can take it up with me," he says. "He wouldn't be surprised to hear we're spending time together, after all. Or hasn't he heard?"

You sweat. Oh, shit. "I, um, don't know why he wouldn't be surprised."

His eyes harden. “No? I hear we've been spending quite a lot of time together lately. Funny how I was the last to know about it."

Inwardly, you cringe. "I can explain."

“Yeah?” he challenges you. He crosses his arms, leaning back. "You can explain where the hell you get off spreading grubby little rumors about how you and I are fooling around?"

"I said I can." You fidget with the stapled corners of the packets of paper in your arm, folding and creasing them as your mind runs at ninety miles an hour. "So what did you hear, exactly?"

"What I heard was that we're seeing each other in the least professional way imaginable," Gaz says, voice clipped. He keeps his expression and tone controlled only with visible effort. "That I’m having a cozy little fling with a private. Someone who is technically my subordinate. That could cost me a lot of time and patience if my superiors decided to write me up."

"But Captain Price would never believe that about you, though. Right? I mean, the rumor mill is always churning out something. Last month it was Sergeant MacTavish and the girl from IT."

His expression gets frostier. "You started the rumor about us. I know it was you."

You fight the urge to glance back at the door behind you. You try to weave an excuse together, but it gets stuck in your throat.

Gaz leans forward now. His glare is so sharp it could slice glass. He seems to grow in size as he stares you down. He’s so intense, so intimidating, so… right there. Way too close. You start to get distracted, swimming in his dark eyes, before his voice yanks you back to reality.

"I know because some prick claiming to be your ex-boyfriend confronted me about it. Said you put the idea in his head that I'm keeping you warm at night. Took a swing at me, too." He narrows his eyes. "I don't like being put in a position to defend your honor just to protect my reputation, Private."

You stumble through a litany of excuses--you had to get your ex off your back; you meant a different Sergeant Garrick; okay, maybe that's not true, but you only just told a tiny little fib. Is it really your fault the rumor spiraled out of control?

It doesn't work. In fact, as you babble on, Gaz only takes your flailing as proof of how guilty you are.

You're prepared for him to tear you a new asshole (though not in the way you'd want), but to your surprise, he doesn't. Instead:

"You’re going to make this right."

You blink. "I am?"

"Damn right you are. I did your dirty work for you, and I'm sure as hell not chasing down your ex and apologizing after the rubbish he spewed."

"Then... you want me to tell him I lied?"

Gaz scoffs. "It wouldn't work if you did."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Ignore it?"

"Quiet down. I wasn't finished. There's no use trying to quell the rumors at this point; it'll only fuel them. So here's what we're gonna do."

…

You're not quite sure how this is going to solve the problem. It seemed rational when he explained it. Then again, anything coming out of Gaz’s mouth sounds reasonable to you.

You're sitting across from him at a low-key dinner joint. Not the kind of upscale place you're used to being taken to on dates. Then again, this place wasn't your choice. And technically you're treating him to dinner. He’s the one who’s quote-unquote "breaking up" with you.

When you'd questioned his logic, pointing out that it'd be way easier to just not and say you did, he gave you a half-amused, half-condescending look that made your stomach too fluttery.

"If you're gonna use my name and risk my reputation to be my fake girlfriend, I'm gonna get something out of it," he'd said. So now you've gotta wine and dine him at his favorite restaurant, and then you're gonna have to sit there and be broken up with. As if he hasn't shamed you enough.

That sucks. This sucks. You never even got a real date with him. And with your luck, your ex is gonna find out.

You do try to flirt your way back into his good graces during this fake-relationship-real-date. He just scoffs. Doesn't just no-sell you--he actively bites back and he's pretty damn mean about it.

You're not just a liar, he tells you--you're dense. If you'd asked him out like a normal person instead of flirting with him and then starting stupid rumors, he'd have considered it. When you tell him you had asked him out and he’d turned you down, he scoffs and tells you he'd have split the bill instead of making you pay, at least.

That's as far as he intends for it to go. But then, while you're waiting on the check, he gets a text from an unknown number.

It's a video. Of you.

You doing some very lewd things to what looks like your ex-boyfriend. Blowing him in the bathroom of some club or a restaurant much dingier than this one. If that's where he's been taking you on dates, Gaz can understand why you broke up with him.

Enjoy my sloppy seconds, chud, says the accompanying smug text.

Gaz is also starting to understand why you lied to get your ex off your back.

"What is it?" you ask, seeing the look on Gaz's face as he stares down at his phone.

"Nothing," he says, putting his phone away as the waiter sets down the check. Gaz pushes his chair out and rises, trying his best not to show any emotion, but his words are a little too sharp. "Let's go.”

"Now?" you ask, surprised. "I thought you were going to--I thought we would get our story straight about the, um, the breakup."

"We can figure it out on the way."

"To where?”

"Your place."

...

[part 1] / part 2

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

550 words / 25 / more ghost + gaz with free use medic reader

...

"Come here, medic."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Ain't a request." Ghost takes you firmly by the back of the neck before you can flee. He squeezes tight enough to make it clear he's not asking.

You feel his and Gaz’s eyes on you--on the bleeding laceration sliced through the outer cartilage of your ear and on the bruise forming on your cheekbone. You got tangled up briefly with an enemy tango and almost became a hostage. Or a statistic. But you're fine now.

"You're making a big deal over nothing,” you tell them.

Ghost pulls you forward and angles your face this way and that, trying to get a better look at you.

Gaz crosses his arms and stares you down. "Fine is when you burn yourself on a shell casing. You're not fine." He's barely holding back the edge in his voice. He can't pull rank on you--none of them can, technically--and he's supposed to be polite and respectful. But seeing that happen to you, and the adrenaline running through him, is making him thoughtless.

"He only grabbed me. Didn't hurt me."

Ghost hisses at you, his voice just as rough as the squeeze he has on the back of your neck. "What happened isn't important. What's important is that he thought he could touch you." His grip tightens. "You're in our squad. You're under our watch. No one messes with you."

Your gut twists. That's not fair--acting protective. It's part of their job to keep you safe, but they don't have to talk like this. You glance at Gaz for help, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t disagree with Ghost. You swallow the protests on the tip of your tongue and close your eyes, silently letting them examine you.

Ghost finds another few nicks and fresh bruises. You’re a medic—you’re not as armored as they are because it’s a goddamn war crime to kill medical personnel. "Jesus,” he mutters. “Bastard snuck up on us.”

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"For what?" Ghost snaps back. As usual, he's not expecting gratitude from you. You're supposed to take the insults, the berating, the harshness. And the protection, because you belong to them. At least, that's how they see it.

Gaz speaks up. "No one treats you like that again, alright?"

"It's not like I asked him if he needed a hostage."

"Doesn't matter," Gaz retorts. "If someone puts a finger on you like that again--"

Soap ducks back into the room, his rifle’s muzzle on his shoulder.

"Take care of it?" Ghost asks.

"Aye," Soap says. "Bastard won't be layin' his hands on anyone anymore. Not enough fingers left, for starters." He turns to you with a look of sympathy, but you recognize the wild edge of adrenaline still present. "You alright, hen?"

"I'm fine." You use the opportunity to worm yourself out of Ghost's grasp. "We going?"

"Affirmative," Gaz says. “We should move.”

Ghost turns away, forcing his attention back on the mission even though he carries himself with cold anger. Soap looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on your cheekbone a little longer this time. He seems about to say something, but thinks better of it. His blue eyes soften just a bit before he turns to follow Gaz and Ghost.

...

more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

orz this makes me feel so anxious and yet obsessed hnngjhn... confounds me...

it screams for an i can fix him reader who turns aloof and jaded and maybe becomes the one that got away ಠ‿ಠ

i crave toxic cod men but not like dark content toxic i mean like ANGST. like simon, who brings home the trauma and hurt from a recent deployment, and drinks the pain away. when you try to stop him, try to get him to seek help that's not at the bottom of a bottle, it explodes in your face and your ears ring from how loudly he shouts and tears run down your cheeks as you look at the holes his fist put into the drywall, knowing damn well that if he had a little less self control it would have been you taking those blows.

or kyle who is so sweet and kind that you just can't help but fall for him. he knows about your crush and he thinks it's cute. the problem is that he's not home long enough to maintain a proper relationship. but he likes the attention you give him and he could see himself being with you. but he's not really that good of a man. intentionally leads you on, makes you think you're an exclusive item - he doesn't even correct you when you call him your boyfriend. but he's not serious about you, he's still fucking whatever hole he can get whenever he can when you're not available. he thinks it's cute that you actually think you're together, maybe even a little pathetic.

soap who, like gaz, likes to lead you on. but he's meaner about it. talks shit to his friends after you've had a night together, laughing about the cute idiot that thinks him their boyfriend. have you seen him? what about john mactavish seems like boyfriend material - a man in the military with more problems than he can count, come on. it's your own fault when you get your feelings hurt when you find him getting tit pics while hes still laying in bed with you after fucking your brains out.

price who is just so painfully inattentive that it hurts. flat out ignores your existence when when you're in the same house as him. the only time he gives you the time of day is when his cocks hard or when you've pissed him off with all your whining. he'll call you immature, telling you it was a mistake to date someone like you - whiny and needy. he needs space, don't you understand? he won't listen when you tell him there's a difference between space and neglect. ):

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

TF141 & sexy clothes

Gaz absolutely supports you wearing whatever you feel sexy in. however, in his heart of hearts, he believes the sexiest thing you can wear around him is your pjs, your ratty old tees, your sleep shirts, your big hoodies, your slouchy garbage clothes. he just wants to know you're comfortable. not to mention the idea of you letting him see you the way nobody else gets to... letting yourself be totally vulnerable around him... that lights up a certain (slightly needy) (slightly possessive) part of his brain. interesting how easily his hands can slide past the hem of your clothes when they're bigger and slouchier, too.

Ghost loves lingerie, though. like wrapping a present just for him. it's less about the lace (or the bows, or the straps, or the leather, whatever you prefer) and more about the time and attention you're expending to make yourself look all sexy. all this work? for him? even if his usual compulsion is to act aloof and pretend it's no big deal, he can't hide the greedy way his eyes devour you--for me? don't mind if i do. it's a toss-up whether he decides to unwrap you completely or just push his calloused hands into your lil outfit and muss you up until it's not covering anything anymore. or maybe he'll just leave the wrapping on so he can keep admiring all your hard work while he pumps into you.

Price says he loves you in lingerie, and he does. he doesn't tell you how fucking crazy you drive him when you're dressed for business. that might mean the clothes you wear into the office every day; it might mean fatigues; it might mean a particular uniform; it might be sportswear. he's big into seeing you focused and in your element--your competence is sexy--while also knowing there are so few layers he'd need to peel off before he could have you completely forgetting yourself if he wanted. and hey! if the lace at the top of your thigh-highs happens to be peeking out from under your pencil skirt, or if your ass fills out your uniform just right? that's just fine with him. you do you. (for now. he'll do you later.)

Soap's preferences are simple. he likes access. skirts. dresses. obviously, if he could convince you to be naked 100% of the time, he would. sundresses are pretty, though. so are your studded black skirts if you're gothy. or your sharp, practical, form-fitting pencil skirts if you're professional. you can even wear a kilt if you'd like. his kilt. he doesn't mind. (he only asks that you wear it as it's meant to be worn--without a thing underneath.) on days you do wear a dress or skirt, you're lucky to make it out of the house without him darting after you, pulling the hem up your thighs, and wondering aloud how you managed to find any undergarments at all; he'd swear he hid every last pair. he peels your underwear off--don't protest, hen; you know how this works--and after that, your chances of getting out the door are slim to none.

...

more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

edging gaz and ghost… I need to bite them

can't recommend it. biting Ghost OR Gaz--especially with the other one around--is a good way to get your jaw grabbed. do you think you get to do whatever you want? no. behave or else <3

maybe you could get yourself into a position to edge them. if you're clever... and then what? you have two very wound up, very single-minded men to contend with. and where do they both want to direct their frustration? yeah. they do not have an issue taking it out on you(r holes).

hope this helps <3

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

so who's writing the fucked up and horny choose your own adventure huh

you're in the woods, trying to evade capture.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

lowkey I kinda wanna top gaz or ghost out of curiosity on how they would react 🤔

gaz or ghost? gaz AND ghost. ranked competitive sex. the ol' good cock/bad cock.

they're both confident almost cocky but they show it very differently.

you tell gaz you wanna be on top this time.

"i'm fine with that," he says.

cool cool cool. easy. too easy, in fact.

he's smiling at you. "you want to be on top, you're on top." he says. "easy as."

so... you get to be the dominant one this time. he knows that's what you mean. right?

mm, harder sell. you wanna do his job? you're gonna need to prove you have what it takes. you're gonna have to work for it. talk like you mean it. don't whine, don't ask, don't just tell him what to do. command him. 

and don't mess up.

nsfw ⬇

order him to take his clothes off. top him like you mean it--bounce on him like you don't need any help, because he's not helping you. and control yourself. edge him. don't show weakness. make him keep his eyes on you. keep his interest with your body, your voice, your tone.

(it's tough for him, feigning such precarious half-interest. pretending like you don't have a visegrip on his every atom. pretending like he's not suddenly understanding how it might feel to be possessed by a succubus. it's tough, but he's soldiering through because he's a great fucking teacher. this is good for you, you just don't know it yet.)

he's teaching you to use your whole body to tell him you're in charge. you need to make the rules.

if you don't--if you slip up--he'll make you sorry. he'll give you a crash course in how a mean dom operates.

(you might be able to collar him, but god help you if you fumble. the second you do, that o-ring choker is going on your neck, and his thumb is already hooked in.)

ghost--

ghost is a little easier to entice. he's a visual guy. he's a little smitten with anyone who approaches him first. you're offering to top him? to put your whole damn body on display? that's an act of service, baby.

even if you're doing it because you want to control the pace and the position, even if you want to take your own pleasure and act like you don't give a damn about his... you're still giving him exactly what he wants. if all he needs to do is lay back and shut up, he'll play your game.

not a tough job, either. not half bad. he could get used to this. nope, he's already used to it. he's thinking ahead--wondering what other dirty fantasies in that pretty head he could help fulfill.

then he shifts his hips down an inch to hit your sweet spot. you snap at him not to move. 

his eyes flick up--from your hole squeezing his cock--to your face. strange sense of whiplash you're giving him--the instant flip from almost ignoring him to focusing squarely on him. negative attention or not, it's arousing. you shouldn't have done that.

"yeah?" he replies, voice low and rough. "you gonna make me?"

you don't have time to reply before he's shoving his hips up into you hard. one stroke, then two, then more, so slow and hard and deep your vision threatens to go white. 

he's challenging you to keep ignoring him now. 

"say it again," he growls. "tell me what to do one more time."

he reaches for your clit, and you fight him, grabbing his wrist, using it as leverage to sink down on him again, redoubling your pace. 

you're both fighting to stay in control. ghost could overpower you easily but he's having fun. and you're putting on a hell of a show for him.

he'll contend with your attitude later. for now he just wants to keep you pissed off and horny enough to keep riding him like you've got something to prove.

riding ghost and gaz together...

you just know they're both talking at you, trying to get your attention as you fight like hell not to fall apart.

gaz is instructing you to sit up straighter, to clench your thighs so they don't shake, to control your voice--or keep it up, sweetheart. keep moaning like a slut if you want to be treated like one. 

ghost is egging you on, enjoying how furious you're getting, how it makes you clench up and stutter when gaz says something that really gets to you. he tosses in his lot every so often to keep things going. like throwing a lit match into a pit of black powder and lead azide.

you're doomed. until.

you tell ghost to move his hands already so gaz can maneuver you by the hips instead. 

that turns them against one another in negative two seconds.

suddenly they're critiquing each other. gaz smugly insinuates you're enjoying his technique more. ghost replies smoothly that it hardly matters to him; it's his attention you're after.

their back-and-forth gives you the precious time you need to clear your head. once you can finally fucking concentrate, you can push past all this edging you've been put through by stupid competition they've been having on you.

they keep one-upping each other and only half-notice what you're up to--until you throw your head back and make a sound of pure rapture, riding them both to completion. you throw yourself into the best orgasm of your recent life.

they're dead silent as you come down, grinding your hips in bliss as the final sparks of pleasure fizzle under your skin.

it sort of humbles them. but then again, it also inflates both their egos just enough to keep them from learning their goddamn lesson.

...

more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

hi hi!! saw the list of wips and was curious about the keegan ones :3c

also pls don’t put me in the basement i have finals next week and like three pieces i gotta work on!!!! and ig the petri dishes gotta be in the right conditions

no, no finals. only basement. mine now. <3

keegan number 1 for the wip ask game: soulmate keegan-- takes place during the mission "clockwork," for the cod: ghosts enjoyers!

It burns where he's gripping you. Sears your neck at the throat. It hurts so bad you white out for a moment. The man's arm tightens across your shoulders, pinning you to his chest, and you grab his forearm. He hisses in pain. Instantly, you both know what just happened: he soulmarked you; and you, him. He burned his handprint into your throat--the first place he touched you. You burned yours into his arm--singeing him through your gloves and through his disguise. Keegan knew his soulmate probably existed in the world somewhere, but never thought much about what it would be like to know her—if he ever had the chance at all. Still, finding his soulmate here and now--a Federation soldier in a Federation base, of all things--triggers an instinct in his mind that compels him to keep her from harm. That instinct wars with the need to carry out the mission at all costs. But his grip doesn't lessen. Instead, he tightens his arm around you, trying to keep a cool head. He drags you past his teammates--Logan, Hesh, and Merrick--and into an adjacent empty room. You can barely see anything, but you hear shouting and the exchange of gunfire. You struggle against his hold. "Let go of me!" "I'm not gonna let go." He shifts his grip to pry your head back, exposing the glowing soulmark formed at the base of your neck. His breath falls over the mark, and it glows hotter. Neither of you can ignore this. You're his soulmate. But here? Now? You're supposed to be an enemy; you're part of the Federation. He's not even supposed to let you live. But he's definitely not gonna let you die.

and keegan number 2: keegan in the cold-- with medic!reader. warning: keegan is mean.

"Why would you say that?" "Because I want you to understand who you are," Keegan hisses. "You can't handle using a gun because you're scared. You can't tell Hesh how you feel because you know he'd reject you. You'd be dead if I hadn't pulled you to safety. You're nothing without me. You're pathetic." You keep your mouth shut until the sting from his words fades. What he's saying isn't true. He's pissed and looking for control wherever he can get it because that's the kind of bastard he is. You will your voice to soften from anger into condescension. "Do you want that to be true, Keegan? Would it feed your ego?" "What I want is for you to admit that I was right," Keegan retorts, his tone growing more aggressive as you refuse to rise to the bait. "Admit that you rely on me. That without me, you'd be dead. That you're weak and pathetic and need me to be your shield. It's the truth, isn't it? Say it." "It sounds like you want it to be true." ”It sounds like you're avoiding the question.” "You want me to tell you I'm worthless?" “I want you to tell me I'm right." He leans closer, invading your personal space. "I want you to show me some gratitude for saving your life. Maybe treat me better than the dirt on the bottom of your fucking shoes." That takes you genuinely by surprise. Anger still simmers in your gut. But you tamp it down. You keep your head cool and your voice even. "Thank you, Keegan, once again," you bite out, "for saving my pathetic life. Happy?"  "Thank you isn't good enough," Keegan growls, his tone dangerously low. "Keep talking."

wip ask game / more Keegan / masterlist tag

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.8k / 24 / soap soulmate au, part 4

...

Price takes a seat opposite you. Ghost stands behind him, massive arms crossed. Price folds his hands together.

"Tea?" he asks.

You say nothing.

"Ghost, go get us some tea."

Ghost leaves. Price examines you, drumming his fingers against the table. He acts friendly. But he's not playing. You have no doubt he'll extract the information he needs by any means necessary. You need to make sure he doesn't figure out which of your buttons to press.

"You're Soap's girl," he says.

You say nothing. His stare presses in on you as heavily as the silence, pushing your back into your seat.

"Who is he to you?"

You shift, uncomfortable in your chair. "A stranger." You roll your shoulders as if trying to shrug off the implications. "An enemy, ostensibly."

Price leans closer. "You kiss your enemies often?"

Not until Johnny walked into your patrol path. 

"Left quite the impression on Soap. You made a bit of a mark on Ghost, too. Not that it’s hard." Price leans back, giving you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "He’s got a soft spot for Soap, hm? So he doesn't want you hurt. Doesn't want Soap put out."

You remain silent, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He studies you, utterly calm. He's trying to read you. It's obvious he has some kind of game plan, and now he thinks you have one, too.

"Weren't quite planning to walk into someone like him, were you? Things happened, didn't they? Things you had to work through."

"No."

"Really. 'Cause with the way you're acting, I'd wager you had different plans for yourself. Now you're all twisted up in this. Plans got ruined because he came along. Maybe you've got your own plans, hm? Got a whole life back home. A career, clearly. Nice little house. Maybe you've got a boyfriend already."

"What do you want?" you grit out.

"Access, love," he says, like this whole interrogation is just a pleasant chat. That new base of yours, the one Graves commandeered. How do you like it?"

"Barely seen it."

"I imagine you're rather busy lately, then. Lot on your mind. Shepherd must have you working hard." You notice a muscle twitching in his jaw. He has an iron grip on his temper. "But you saw enough of it to get a good look around, hm? The layout, the security, the systems. Tell me about it."

"I don't know anything."

"Nothing?" He leans forward again. He doesn't seem to like that answer. "The security cameras. The guards. The patrols. The sensors." His voice is low. "You don't know anything about those?"

"Didn't ask."

"Hm." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug as the expression on his face hardens further. "You didn't ask." He repeats. "Didn't ask. Didn't ask..." Then he pauses, staring through you. He leans back again. "No, of course not. You follow orders. You do your job. Can't fault you for that." He speaks with a cool tone, but there's a tightness in the lines of his jaw as he says it. "And now you're here and your buddies are gone. Just you. The only target left." He lets the silence stretch out. "Do you think Graves'll come for you?"

"No."

"Hm. Why not?"

"I'm a nobody."

"Hmmmmm." His smile doesn't change, but the lines around his eyes shift as if he finds that amusing. "And you're perfectly content with that? With knowing that when you walk into that base every day, you'll just be another body for Graves to throw onto the heap?”

You hold his gaze. "Yes."

"You don't think you're worth more than that?"

You say nothing.

The smile is still there, but his eyes narrow. He's judging you. Judging your worth. You hold his gaze. He seems to recognize something in you--that you're telling the truth. You know what you are. You're a mercenary. You're expendable.

"You must have a low opinion of yourself." He sighs, crossing his arms and settling a little further into his chair. "You've accepted you're not walking out of this base, then."

You nod.

Price examines you, eyes narrow and intense. Peeling you apart. You're certainly not an idiot. Smart enough to know you're expendable; loyal enough to take orders, keep your mouth shut, and follow through without asking questions. Not the type of soldier he prefers, but in the right hands, you'd be lethal.

Tough to crack, too. He rubs his chin. Hard to threaten someone who doesn't have anything to lose.

Two sharp knocks on the door herald Ghost, who slips back inside and closes the door. He's not carrying tea.

"Might want to pick up the pace," Ghost says. "Soap's back."

You stiffen, as much as you try not to show it.

Price's gaze flicks over to you, noting the tensing of your shoulders. "He knows?"

"Affirmative, sir. Someone outside must've seen her mark and tipped him off."

At that moment, there's a banging on the door. Johnny's voice echoes from the other side. "LT!"

Hearing it is a punch to the gut.

Soap keeps knocking. "Ghost, get yer lyin' arse out here!"

Price looks at Ghost and nods toward the door. "Go on, then, handle it."

Ghost curses under his breath and slips outside.

"Hell's fuckin' bells, LT, what's goin' on?"

Ghost's reply is too low and muffled to catch.

"Busy with what?" Soap snaps. "I know she's here. I need to see her."

Ghost's reply this time sounds harsher.

"Like hell I'm not. That's my goddamned soulmate, aye? My girl. I've got a right to see her. You'll not keep me from the one person in the whole bloody world that's mine."

"Captain's interrogating her." Ghost's tone is low and loud now, a warning. "You don't get special privileges with her."

Soap lets loose a string of colorful curses. You can make out roughly half of them through his accent. "What does Price think she's got that's so bloody important I don't get to know about it?"

"She's a Shadow, Johnny. Chrissake."

"Aye, an' she's in that room goin' it alone. She needs me."

Your heart twists in your chest, and it forces out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It's eating at your resolve. Just hearing him speak about you is making you want things you shouldn't. He sounds like he wants to protect you. Like you're worth something to him. You try to shake it out of your head. You're a prisoner here. This isn't a love story. He doesn’t love you. He doesn't know you.

Then you look up, and your blood goes cold. Price is staring at you, and he's smirking.

His eyes move over you, dissecting you piece by piece, and you feel your expression revealing too much. He saw your mask slip. He saw what you're concealing.

"I'll be damned." His smirk grows. "I thought Shadows were all cold-blooded bastards."

Your mouth twitches like it wants to bare teeth. "Go to hell."

"Ghost," he calls mildly at the closed door, "get in here. And bring Soap, would you?"

No no no no. Panic washes over you. You pull at your cuffs, feeling yourself lapse into a freeze response. Not Johnny. You can't face him. You try desperately to get a grip on your body's reaction, to remember your training.

You turn your head away from the door and fix your eyes on the opposite corner of the room. Among the many rifles and launchers racked on the walls, you find a pistol and you concentrate on it as hard as you can. You study the polish smudged near the mouth of the barrel. The scarred grip.

Behind you, the door opens.

Soap is across the room in moments. He kneels next to you, his hands falling to your arm, to your shoulder, your neck. His thumb brushes across one of the many cuts on your cheek.

You feel outside of yourself. Soap seems too fixated on your state of being to notice.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ. What did you rat bastards do to my girl?" he growls.

"She did this to herself," Ghost says. He puts his hand on Soap's shoulder. "And we need her restrained while we question her--"

"Back off," Soap warns, brushing his hand away. "Am not dealin' with you right now."

Price cuts in, voice firm. "Soap, cool off. Now."

Soap's temper flashes hot. His jaw clenches. His muscles tense. But he takes a deep, steadying breath. "Aye, Captain," Soap says. He straightens up, his hands falling away from your face. But it's clear his blood is still simmering. "Permission to remove her cuffs."

"Negative," Price says. Soap starts to say something, but Price cuts him off. "No. She's unpredictable. You know that as well as we do. We can't afford to trust her until we understand what Graves' orders are."

Soap curls and uncurls his fists, evidence of the sheer will he's exerting to keep his feet planted where they are. "And what do you expect me to do? Just leave her here? Not say a word to her?"

That smirk curls Price's lips again. "Quite the opposite. I'd like you to do the talking for us."

Price stands and gestures to Ghost again, and Ghost guides Soap by the shoulder over to him. Soap resists on principle for a moment before his mind catches up and he walks stiffly to the other side of the table.

“She has information we need," Price says. "Alejandro, remember? Once that's squared away, we'll need no hostage. You understand me?"

There's a beat of silence.

"You want me to interrogate her," Soap says.

"I want access," Price replies.

"And once I have the information?"

"Then she’s all yours. You can do whatever you like. Let her go. Hell, drive her to the airport if you want. But until then" --Price's hand lands on Soap's shoulder and pushes him down into the interrogator's seat across from you-- "she doesn't leave this room. You understand?"

You feel Soap's eyes on you.

"Fine. I'll do it. But it's gotta be me and her. No one else. You let me do my job the way I know it needs to be done."

"Hm." Price glances at you. You're still concentrating on the pistol on the far wall. "That's just fine. Ghost, let's give 'em some time alone."

Ghost follows Price out of the room, closing and locking the door behind them.

"Sir?" Ghost's voice is low and uncertain.

"Trust me, Soap is the leverage we needed. He'll do just fine.”

Ghost is quiet for a moment. "If he keeps his head on straight."

Price hums in agreement, his smile genuine now. "If he keeps his head on straight."

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / [part 4] / part 5

more Soap / masterlist tag

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

you're in the woods, trying to evade capture.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Hi, for the wip ask game, bff Soap Hurt Comfort? :') please and thank you!

for the wip ask game--lighter, sweeter bff!Soap. you're meeting him at the airport. he's coming home after being MIA. scared you to death.

this one is short, so here it is edited + posted in full. for the hurt/comfort girlies :)

600 words / 23

…

“Thought you couldna live without me, eh?”

You tackle Soap in a hug, tactical gear and all. "Shut up. Shut up. God, you're alive."

He laughs and returns the embrace. "Too stubborn to die. I thought I told you not to worry about me."

You grip the straps on the back of his vest and keep your face in his chest to hide the tears threatening to track down your cheeks. "You can't just say that and go MIA. They talked about putting your name on a memorial and everything."

"You know me. Always gotta do things my way."

"Your way is stupid."

He chuckles and rubs your back. "Yeah, I'm stupid. I've missed you, though. I haven't stopped thinkin' bout you."

"Really? Cause I..." The dam breaks. You can't stop the flood of hot, angry tears. "I missed you too." Then you start sobbing. God, it's embarrassing. But you refuse to let go of him.

He strokes your hair. "Hen, don't cry. Please. I'm here and I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm your man, aye?"

You shake your head, stubbornly refusing to move.

He rests his cheek on you. "I don't want you to be sad. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I love you."

Hearing him say that just makes your heart skip before the tears come out faster. You love him, too, more than a friend should. How could anyone not fall in love with him? He's Johnny. It's just that you were always too chickenshit to tell him. You thought you lost your chance.

"Come on, look at me."

"No," you mutter, refusing to unbury your face from his shirt. Scared to, maybe. "I don't want you to make it up to me. I want to stay here."

"That's no problem. We can stay here for however long. I just need to know you're not upset at me. I can't stand seein' you sad. Makes me sad."

You sniff. "You deserve it."

"Aye, I do. But what can I do to cheer you up'?"

"Nothing," you mumble into his chest. "I've been crying for two weeks because of you."

You try to collect yourself anyway, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. His squadmates stand a little ways away from the terminal, looking curious at this scene you're causing. This isn't exactly how you wanted to meet them. You're supposed to be Johnny's cool best friend, not a weepy mess.

Johnny recaptures your attention, wiping away a stray tear track with his thumb. "You've been cryin' about me?"

You shove him, but it's light and there's no anger in it. "Of course I have, asshole, you're my best friend. They said you were MIA. Why wouldn't I cry?"

He grins. "But I'm here now, though. Could use a wee bit of comforting myself. You mind?"

You sniff, nodding as you press your sleeves into your eyes one more time to dry them. He's right. He's the one who's been away from home for a month. Probably endured some draconian shit, missing for two weeks and all. But the way he's looking at you through those blue eyes of his... it's not fair how easy it is to fall under his spell again.

"Yeah. I guess. What do you want? More fawning and crying?"

He laughs softly and pulls you into another tight hug. He presses a kiss to your temple, and you have to act like it doesn't make your heart explode into tiny pieces. He rests his chin on the top of your head, content to keep you here, totally enveloped in his frame. "Mm, that'll do. Just to start."

...

wip ask game / more Soap / masterlist tag

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

i am munching concrete and getting brainworms i am obsessed with gym buddy gaz and your writing 🙏🙏

thank youuuu <3 similarly obsessed with him. gym buddy gaz is so lowkey obsessive about you too. being gym buddies is being in a relationship with you... kinda like dating, right? basically gives him a free pass to be a little protective (overprotective) of you, right?

weird how people start avoiding the gym when you and him are in there.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

literally all im thinking of after the gas push-up fics are reader and gaz sparring or wrestling likeeeeee 🙏 his teasing would be nasty too omg

even before the tension reaches a head and he fucks you in the showers, his teasing was bad. but if you think that somehow he'll ease up after that? nope. it's 20x worse.

like tell me Gaz wouldn't be walking into the gym horny every morning. 5am and you're not even done warming up but he's quipping that it's a good morning for a spar. obviously ten seconds into this """friendly sparring match""" he's sweeping your legs and turning it into the most perverse wrestling match. pinning your hands under his knees and getting you into a leg bar so he can push your legs apart. you could give him the benefit of the doubt until he literally buries his head between your thighs. no shame, he has no shame.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Ghost frustration? ~ local pocket dragon asks softly rubbing their greedy lil paws.

(for the wip ask game)

huehuehue thank you <3

Ghost offering to help you out, sexually frustrated mess that you are... just an assist, helping you get off so he can get to sleep without being bothered by your tossing and turning... lending a hand out of the goodness of his heart. no other reason.

...

"Sit down."

Shaky anticipation floods your nerves. Your knees hit the edge of your bed, and you sit, eyes never leaving him as he walks toward you. The room gets warmer with every step he takes. You can see it--how you're starting to make him want things.

When he reaches you, he stops just before his leg can brush yours.

"May I?"

Your heart rate rises. You want to say yes. You didn't know how much you wanted to say yes until right now. But...

You shift, pressing your thighs together, fighting the urge to wring your hands. "I'm not an easy or... particularly fun woman to please, Simon." You glance up at him, trying not to look pained. You're not trying to challenge him. You're letting him down easy. Giving him an out. You're telling him he doesn't want to do this, that it's too much effort.

"Then I'll put in the time and the work."

His eyes remain locked on yours, as stern as ever. Your warning isn't deterring him.

"I need your permission. Yes or no. Do you trust me to take care of you?"

...

wip ask game / more Ghost / masterlist tag

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Hello, thank you for the tag :)

I looked through the list and got intrigued with Soap Accidental 01?

for sure! i'm looking forward to seeing your list!!

Soap Accidental 01 for the wip ask game--it's bff!soap :) just a completely normal chill night with your good buddy :) with no blackmail whatsoever.

...

"Am no' bein' a dick," Soap retorts, pointing at you with his scotch bottle hand. "An' I don' regret a damn word. Your boy toy needed a reality check."

"Reality check?" you echo in disbelief. "There is no reality in what you said. You sound like a crazy ex-boyfriend."

"Maybe I do, best pal." Soap leans closer, still holding your wrist tightly. “So, are you gonna keep our little secret, or are you coming clean with him?”

Your heart stutters when he leans in, and you shy away. "There's nothing to come clean about. You already told him we slept together before he and I hooked up."

“But you don’t plan to tell him how much you enjoyed it, do you?”

"Why the fuck would I tell him that?"

“Why indeed.” Soap gives your wrist a tight squeeze. “I’d hate for someone else to tell him.”

...

wip ask game / more Soap / masterlist tag

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

WIP game--

Rules: in a new post, post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how nondescript or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet and tell us about it!

the WIP avalanche:

soap soulmate 04

soap soulmate 05

spreading rumors about dating gaz

megafauna post-apocalyptic 02

megafauna post-apocalyptic 03

soap og soulmate original ending

messy sexual tension gaz 04

messy sexual tension gaz 05

shifter/hybrid au pwp konig

shifter/hybrid au pwp soap

shifter/hybrid au barn intro

keegan soulmate 01

milestone rq rough draft

konig horangi pocket medic reader

cap mactavish vs prickly medic reader

cap mactavish + yuri scrap

keegan in the cold

PI reader scratch

soap accidental 01

soap friends with benefits 02?

soap friends with benefits 0?

bff soap coming home hurt comfort

ghost frustrated

witch hunter au scratch

➡ ask box

no pressure tags, also encompasses writing/art/playlists: @majinbangus / @keegansshark / @fnny-bnny / @thevoidwriting / @ghostslittlegf / @141wh0re / @callsign-selkie / @kittsch / @kettlemouse

and anyone yet-untagged who wants to do it anyway. that's what i did ;)