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Oh yeah, dating a British army guy sounds fun and exotic, until this happens to you.

#call of duty #call of duty x reader

[enqmind]

Oh no.

The Price fic has gained a female original character.

Run Dr Kennedy! You are perilously close to becoming a reader character!

[enqmind]

I'm enjoying writing this Gaz fic, but I am far from confident in it.

[enqmind]

König is the epitome of "That's my girlfriend, she just doesn't know it yet"

✦ He'd follow you closely everywhere you go, and while normal people would call it stalking, he calls it a necessary precaution.

✦ He'd follow you back home when you have night shifts to make sure his girl gets back home safely (you have no idea he exists)

✦ If you treat yourself out to a fruit smoothie, he'd be taking pictures from every angle subtly possible

✦ When the boys at the barracks ask him about any girls, he's quick to tell them he has a girlfriend.

✦ He doesn't want them to think he's a loser, but in all honesty (and König is NOT honest), that's the one thing he most definitely is.

✦ He'd pull out his phone and proudly present his beautiful most gorgeous amazing lovely girlfriend to them (you still don't know he exists)

✦He gets bolder with his approach towards you. Once you made too much coffee, enough for three mugs, and left the leftover in the kettle while you ran out the door to work.

✦ König watched from the cameras he installed in your kitchen, some of them were cute Sanrio magnets he planted as a faux gift from one of your friends on your birthday.

✦ He immediately takes this as an invitation to come in

✦ "My beautiful pretty girlfriend made extra coffee for me" is his thought process

✦ Later you return home ready to chug down a liter of Red Bull and coffee because of how exhausted you were.

✦ Wait a minute. The coffee barely filled a cup.

✦ You're sure you made more than that. It was so much??

✦ You eventually chalk it up as the water evaporated while you were gone.

✦ But then weirder things start to happen, like your navy blue panties going missing.

✦ You're sure that did not evaporate

✦ Cue more underwear going missing

✦ At some point, you came back home from work with the intention to go out to buy new underwear.

✦ You stripped out of your work clothes, and as you stretched your arms backward you noticed a square package on your bed.

✦ You look around in caution, you don't know where it came from. You shouldn't open it. Hell, it could be laced with something.

✦ Curiosity got the best of you and you ripped away the paper, and it was laced, indeed, but not in the way you thought.

✦ You found multiple gorgeous laced underwear.. and a note.

˖◛⁺⑅♡

To my beautiful, ravishing, Schatz.

[enqmind]

New neighbour König x afab reader

*König is your new neighbour, who you thought mildly disliked you.

Your first interaction with him wasn’t friendly. It wasn’t particularly rude, though. I mean, what 6”11 Austrian army recruit do you know that is a ray of sunshine?

You greeted him politely as he strode over to his door, but he looked over to you and tossed you a half-nod as he took half of his boxes inside in one trip. He barely spared you a good look, but he looked exactly the type.

He also looked exactly your type.

One of your windows overlooked his, so on occasion you would both catch each other’s gaze before König quickly averted his first. It made you smile, just knowing you got to share a quick moment.

Thats why it was so embarrassing.

So embarrassing when you were raving to your friend about how attractive he is, how big he is, how muscular and how you just know that he’s big there, too, he walked past.

He absolutely spared you a glance this time. As he walked past, his piercing eyes were fixated on you, and whether or not it was in disdain or interest, you had no idea.

Either way, it sent shivers up your spine.

He walked past after breaking your intense eye contact as if nothing had happened, but your face told another story. Shrouded in embarrassment, your face turned beet red and you tried to hide your face as your friend burst out laughing at you.

It’s been weeks now, and you hadn’t seen König once during. You figured he had just been deployed again since he worked in the army or something.

It was like that for months. The endless, very few ‘neutral’ interactions with him. You assumed he was at the very best indifferent towards you. But little did you know, behind those doors, König would be fucking his own hand like a madman thinking about you. Every time he caught you gardening in shorts that were a little too tight or in a skirt a little too short, he would have to stay home, to hide from you almost. Just to control himself.

Of course, you had no idea. You acted like you knew what you would be doing with the way you spoke to your friends, but you were still a touch-starved virgin at the end of the day. That didn’t stop you from fantasising about König, though.

You had no idea how much you were teasing him. You didn’t think he paid you any attention whatsoever.

Until you went out drinking with your friend. Some sleaze-ball was hitting on you and her nonstop, despite both of you telling him to go away and go home.

You were somewhat drunk, so you confronted the entitled prick. Unbeknownst to you at first, none other than König loomed over you from behind, glaring at the other male and filling him with fear and submission. You thought you had successfully driven him away, until you got an inkling to turn around.

The gift from God named König stood over you and your friend, glaring still at the male. He didn’t move until he knew he was gone and finally switched his attention to the two people in front of him. All you could do was stare at him in awe until he broke the silence.

“Are you… ok?” He said, talking to both of you. His voice was so deep, coated in masculinity and so gravelly.

Of course, you were starstruck. No way could you have said a word in your current state that wasn’t inherently sexual, so your friend answered for both of you.

You managed a choked out “Thank you,” a few minutes after, before he offered to take the both of you home.

[P2 out!]

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My vision of John Price is a man who goes 'yeah, I'll try it on with this single woman' followed by 'yes, I will marry her' after an hour max.

Then, when presented with a second woman he likes, immediately goes 'might as well induct this one into the group too' while knowing nothing about her. Possibly with a side of 'I think Gaz is single'.

I have no evidentiary basis for this.

[enqmind]

I want him.

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I've realised that I really love the 'group of people gain partners in quick succession' genre. This is probably why I like CoD fics so much.

[enqmind]

The line 'would you do me the honour of becoming Dr Garrick' is very tempting to use.

Oh no.

The Price fic has gained a female original character.

Run Dr Kennedy! You are perilously close to becoming a reader character!

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JSYK, the reader in Hit One, Purl One has this thing:

I found a copy on the Internet Archive, but that one is missing the last two pages, so there are no better images of the four pieces of headgear, I'm afraid. (It's also missing part of the last pattern).

It screams Price to me.

Seriously, someone get that man a pipe.

#call of duty #vintage knitting #vintage fashion #cod john price #john price

[enqmind]

She's doomed.

Hope Gaz likes his new girlfriend

Oh no.

The Price fic has gained a female original character.

Run Dr Kennedy! You are perilously close to becoming a reader character!

[enqmind]

Okay, @leftshoeuntied, there's more of this now.

Warnings: Mention of non-consensual groping, mention of groper getting stabbed with knitting needles, in later parts there will be guilt tripping but it's cute for now

Reader notes: Knows how to knit.

Hit one, Purl One II

Previous

Just think about how baffling this would be for Ghost.

 He’s just gone out to the park with Johnny and his kid. Partially so the girls can have a little peace and partially so he can get used to being around babies again before his own comes.

 Johnny wanted to swing ‘round the Waitrose (urgh) on the way back to pick up some treats for his Mrs. This was where they ran into Price.

 He was supposed to just be joining them for a cup of tea. Supposed to.

 So when Simon heard the tell tale sounds that indicated violence, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting. Maybe Price in a scuffle with some brute while the girls took shelter behind the table?

 “Wha-”

 That was not what he found.

 “What?”

 His Captain was clutching at his face while the three women stared at him.

 Mrs McTavish looking horrified, his treasure breaking out into a nervous laugh and the new girl clutching a hardback book to her chest with a guilty expression.

 Johnny appeared next to him, surprising Simon in his bafflement.

 “Captain, what happened to your face?”

 The new girl was the only one on this side of the table, and she was holding what amounted to a blunt weapon.

 “Did you hit him?” Simon asked her.

 She looked at the floor.

 “Yeah… sorry.”

 Mrs McTavish stood and moved around the table.

 “It’s the stabbing all over again,” she muttered, “you really only have yourself to blame, John.”

  Price moved his hands so she could have a look and staunch the blood.

 “Stabbing?”

 “That’s not fair,” the new girl protested, “Captain, er, John, didn’t shove his hand up my skirt.”

 All eyes bar those belonging to Johnny’s bird zeroed in on her.

 “You stabbed a groper,” Price said, still commanding despite the napkin held to his face.

 “It was on the bus. I was knitting a scarf… he startled me.” She remained staunchly staring at the ground. “So… yeah.”

 That sounded familiar.

 “Was this about two years ago?” Ghost asked.

 She nodded meekly.

 “I read about it in the local paper. Very impressive.” He nudged Johnny, “your Mrs has good taste. In friends, if nothing else.”

 The pout was very satisfying.

 “Thanks for volunteering to drive John to A&E,” she smiled at him, saccharine, “because it looks broken.”

 The new girl buried her face in her hands.

 “I’m so, so sorry. I’ll take you, it’s my fault.”

 “Babe, you don’t drive.”

 “I’ll call a taxi.”

 Price let out a chuckle.

 “You don’t have to, Simon will drop us off and you can call one to bring us back.”

 She peered out from between her fingers before lowering her hands and looking curiously at Ghost.

 “Are you okay with that?”

 “Sure he is,” Price beamed, looking over her to Ghost’s bird, “right, Treasure?”

 “Yeah, sure. I’ll just stay here and eat gingerbread.”

 “See? No problem at all.”

 “I’m not-”

 “It’s fine,” Ghost cut her off. “It won’t take long.”

 She went from looking like a half deflated balloon to a fully deflated one.

 “Okay, just… let me get my knitting out of my bag and we can go.”

 Price smiled.

 “There’s no need. No one will get close enough to you for you to worry about stabbing them.”

 The poor thing looked mortified.

#call of duty #cod fic #call of duty x reader #cod #cod john price #john price #john price x reader #john price x #john price x oc #edit: i scanned the image so it looks better now

[enqmind]

Oh no.

The Price fic has gained a female original character.

Run Dr Kennedy! You are perilously close to becoming a reader character!

[enqmind]

Well, this took a while. But we're here now and that's all that's important.

Ghost/Female Reader WC: 1.1k 18+ content

Warnings: Suicide attempt by reader, gaslighting, manipulation, Local Manc has worst possible reaction to a suicide attempt, ~*self indulgence*~

Reader notes: Thin enough to fit into a standard bathtub, light enough to be lifted from a standard bathtub by Ghost, mentally ill, pale enough for noticable blushing (feel free to ignore), atheist (ffti)

One Man's Treasure II

Previous Next

 He didn’t turn the big light on when he carried her into his living room. He didn’t need to, the floor clear of any clutter to trip him up.

 He didn’t turn it on after he lay her on the sofa and went to grab a towel. The light of his own bathroom spilling into the room was enough, he thought.

 Enough to wrap her in one of his big, barely used, towels.

 Enough to clean and bandage her wounds.

 Enough to blot the blood and water from her hair.

 She huddled into him for warmth and comfort and he did not deny her.

 How could he? For now he was her shepherd, guiding her until she went to the hereafter.

 In the dim and dinge, it would be easier for her to accept the reality of her situation.

 So he kept her in the dark.

---

 She stirred against him a few hours later. Wincing against the low light and putting a hand to her head.

 “Head hurt?” he rumbled.

 She froze and peered up at him. Blinking in confusion.

 “You’re… no. There’s no way.” She pulled away from him and rubbed at her face. “I keep fucking it up, there’s no way it worked this time.”

 “How many times?”

 “Four or five.” She looked ashamed, wrapping herself up in her arms, like she’d done in the bath. “Skill issue, I guess.”

 He watched her. He could see that forlorn hope dancing in her eyes that he was real. That she’d actually managed it this time.

 He put a hand on her shoulder.

 I am real.

 “I thought if I did it in the bath, maybe I’d drown if I fucked up again.”

 He tilted his head at her.

 She looked at him, eyes widening.

 Relief played on her face again, battling with misery.

 “I drowned?”

 “Was the bottle full when you started?”

 Relief won, a smile breaking out on her face.

 “I did it,” she whispered, a hand reaching out and grasping his jumper. “It’s over.”

 On some level he felt like he should be angry at that, like he’d been trained to be by an uncaring world, but it was hard when she started crying.

 “Thank you,” she sniffled, “I know it’s your… job? Or whatever, but thank you.” A watery smile. “I feel a lot better not being alone right now.”

 She removed her hand and pulled the towel tighter around herself, covering up her skin.

 Her head must still be throbbing from her hangover.

 He stood.

 “I’ll get you some water. Drink it, then sleep.”

 She nodded, resigned.

 “Some last solid rest before my trip to hell. That’s very kind of you.”

 Ghost turned to stare at her.

 “What?” he barked. “You're not going to hell.”

 Why would she? What could this small, sad looking woman possibly have done to deserve that.

 She frowned, “are you sure? I’m an atheist and I killed myself. You have to admit that it’s not looking good for me.”

 Both of those things were so desperately inconsequential that he found himself chuckling.

 “You’re not going to hell,” he repeated. A sly smile formed under his mask. “It’s so much worse. You’re stuck with me.”

 She stared back at him with wide eyes and a gently agape mouth.

 “Oh.”

 He turned away and went to the kitchen, leaving her to stew in that horror for a moment.

 It seemed to sink in as she took the glass from him and drank from it.

 He sat next to her again, arm stretched out on the back behind her. Watching her mouth as she drank.

 She had a pretty mouth.

 To her credit, she didn’t flinch away from him. Instead staring blankly into the middle distance as she drank.

 It was as she neared the end of the glass that the silence was broken.

 “Is- is that your face?”

 “It’s a mask. What people expect.”

 She nodded and finished her drink.

 “Okay.”

 He pulled the glass from her hands and put it on the floor.

 “Sleep now?” she asked, eyes wide as she looked at him. The towel pulled tightly around her again.

 He slipped his arms beneath her and pulled her up against his chest as he stood.

 Her eyes widened even more.

 Oh, he must be sc-

 “Gosh. You’re really strong.” She looked awed, mouth pulling up into a cute smile.

 Ghost found himself taken aback.

 “You’re not that heavy.”

 “At that angle I am.” She stared at her fingers, weaving them together, and was that a blush? “The mechanics being what they are, and all.”

 “You like strong men, huh?” he murmured as he carried her to the bedroom.

 Her blush deepened.

 “I admire the hard work and discipline.” A quiet protest, as she was placed on the bed.

 “‘Course you do.”

 “I do!”

 He dug around in his drawers, pulling out two sets of pyjamas. One with long bottoms and one with drawstring shorts.

 He put the shorts set on the bed.

 “Sure. You change into those and get under the duvet. I’ll be right back.”

 “Um.” Her meek call stopped him in the doorway.

 “Yeah?”

 “Are we going to share the bed?”

 Of course they were. There was only one in the flat.

 “Yeah.”

 “I could sleep on the sofa,” she offered.

 That was a stupid idea.

 “No. You need a proper night’s sleep.”

 Her nervous expression intensified.

 “It’s just, um-”

 “Sleep.” He walked over to her and crouched so they were eye to eye. “You need sleep, and that’s what you’ll get. Nothing else.”

 She searched his eyes in the dinge.

 “Okay.”

 He nodded.

 He found her curled up under the duvet when he got back. Towel neatly folded on top of the chets of drawers, bra and knickers on top of it. She must have believed him.

 A gentle touch on her shoulder earned him nothing.

 Out like a light. Good.

 He moved to the other side of the bed and climbed in.

 Sharing a bed with another person wasn’t something he’d done in a long time. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to sleep. That would be annoying, but he’d cope.

 He turned onto his side and looked at his bedmate’s sleeping face.

 She was smashing her face into the pillow, mouth locked in a grim line and eyebrows slightly furrowed.

 There was no way she was dreaming yet, her eyes remained stationary under their lids.

 Soon they’d start dancing, and he’d watch. Just in case she needed him again.

---

 Movement against his skin woke him.

 His eyes snapped open, hand reaching for a weapon.

 A head of messy hair filled his vision, and an arm around his chest stymied his reach.

 The light creeping under his blind illuminated the situation, his neighbour pressed up against him.

 It felt… quite nice, actually.

 She tilted her head to look up at him, the words on her lips falling away with shock.

 He looked curiously at her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

 “What’s the matter?”

 “You… look just like my neighbour.”

 Shit.

#cod fic #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x oc #tw: suicide attempt #tw: suicide #tw: dark fic

[enqmind]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley in CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE II (2022)

#god #his pretty blond eyelashes

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I MEAN—

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Nobody tells you how difficult it will be to write a scene with three different unnamed characters from a third person perspective.

Probably because only x Reader fics are the only time this would ever really be an issue.