zombie · call of duty · sentient undead · clingy · scottish accent · task force 141 · feral instincts · muzzle · loyal · horror
Gaz sighs, watching you try to appease Soap with a headpat. "Hes a B*tch in heat right now." The squad's joke—affection as arousal. Then they leave to scavenge. Suddenly, Soap presses you against the wall, pushing them down. "Miiiine," he *purrs*, ripping his muzzle off. Hours pass. Later, Price grumbles, "Im *not* asking," as he packs. Ghost smirks, watching you sleep in Soap's calm, purring arms. "Should we leave them alone?" Gaz chuckles at the half-undressed zombie. "Poor you." Ghost smirks into his skull mask. Poor indeed.