#joke’s on y’all this is still a wip Wednesday that ending is abrupt af

[ivymarquis]

Bonded

Pairing| Ghost x F!Reader

Rating| T

Word count| 892

Tags| COD-esque levels of violence, non-descript references to SA,

Anyway idk what this is but I had a thought and I wrote it down. Enjoy. Or don’t, it’s whatever either way.

You come back to the world of the living with ringing in your ears.

Dazed and disoriented, your brain struggles to piece together everything that just happened in the last 30 seconds.

You and Ghost were supposed to be clearing a room when you’d realized a moment before disaster that it was rigged to blow. The two of you scrambling to put as much space between yourselves and the inevitable detonation; You’d succeeded, but not entirely.

You aren’t blown to pieces and it feels like you have as many limbs and fingers and toes leaving the room as you did entering- that was good.

Ducking around a corner had shielded you from part of the blast but not all of it. Enough to knock you both on your asses.

Everything is white noise, staring forward blankly and only distantly realizing you’re staring at Ghost because the black and white of his balaclava is such a stark contrast to the surroundings.

You can’t tell if he’s conscious, but he’s not moving. One of your hands outstretches towards him, so focused on your squadmate that you miss the sound of approaching boots crushing the debris littering the ground.

Disoriented as you are, you don’t hear the “She’ll be more fun to get information out of” but you do feel the hands wrapping around your ankles.

A startled yelp escapes you, instinct having you scrambling to get to your teammate. There’s certain things that hardwire into the brain, and even as out of it as you are, you know intrinsically that nothing good awaits you being separated from Ghost. The 141 is packbonded, the hours spent in close and often unpleasant quarters forging a bond that supersedes anything else.

Your sound of protest seems to be what brings Ghost to, and he is far more with it than you are.

Whoever has a grip on your ankles settled far too quickly into the idea that you are in no state to fight back and Ghost is down for the count. You’re just close enough even after the foot or so that he’s dragged you that Ghost is able to grab a hold of your wrist.

Where the enemy soldier’s grip was loose, Ghost’s is firm and unwavering. If you were more with it, you’d be laughing at the notion of feeling like a rope toy caught between two dogs.

You’re able to free one of your ankles at the expense of the other one being clamped down on with two hands. Kicking blindly, you can feel yourself making contact against his chest but you’re not entirely certain how much damage you’re doing.

Ghost yanks you towards him with one hand, his other digging around until he finds a knife.

The first yank catches the soldier off balance as you slide across the floor closer to your Lieutenant. The soldier doesn’t lose his grip on your ankle, staggering forward the few steps to keep a hold of you. The second yank pulls you half underneath him, Ghost raising to his knees and lunging in attempt to slash at the enemy soldier still holding to your ankle.

You are grabbing at any part of him that you feel you can get a good purchase on, propriety be damned.

A feeling that is apparently mutual as Ghost’s hand lands on your ass, shoving you further underneath him. Ending up with your head between his thighs, your arms reach through the gap. One elbow hooks around the back of one of his thighs as the other reaches up looking for purchase on his back. Grabbing a fistful of one of the numerous straps on his vest, you’ve secured yourself to him about as well as you are able.

The room is spinning as you try to keep your wits about you.

You’re probably concussed, you realize, and being fought over like a scrap of meat is jostling you as the two men struggle to break the other’s hold on you.

At one point Ghost’s knee ends up digging into your shoulder as he moves to stand, the brunt of a grown man’s weight a welcome trade off to the discomfort that would have awaited you with the would-be kidnapper.

Your feet hit the floor with a thud, and it seems at this point the other soldier has realized his error.

Too late though- so preoccupied with trying to keep a hold of you versus dispatching Ghost (Good luck with that), once the lieutenant gets a hold of him he’s done for. The knife finds its place in his neck as it has with so many enemy soldiers. Arterial spray hits everything in reach as the knife is removed, his body dropping like a sack of potatoes. He’s not dead yet but will be shortly, too distracted with trying in vain to staunch the bleeding to do anything else.

The threat neutralized, Ghost’s attention turns to you.

He’s speaking, you experiencing the dissonance of hearing his voice but not understanding what he’s saying. your brain picks up what he wants as his hand outstretches to you. Taking the offered hand, he plucks you off the ground like a sack of flour.

He sounds like you’re underwater, and something is sticking to your neck that you’ll realize later is blood drying down to your skin. “On your feet soldier. We’re leaving.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #my writing #joke’s on y’all this is still a wip Wednesday that ending is abrupt af #but I can’t think of anything else so here ya go lol