Call Of Duty X Male Reader

My parents were award-winning teachers, having nurtured countless outstanding students. However, I had always been the last in line, failing every single class. After yet another gentle warning from my homeroom teacher, my dad finally snapped. "How did I end up with a kid this dumb? You're deliberately trying to torture me, aren't you?" He disappeared for three days. When he returned, he had a boy with him. "From today on, Josh is the only true child of this family. You are no longer allowed to call us Mom and Dad. "Get out! You'll only earn the right to be my son once you can actually pass your exams." The next time I saw them was at the hospital during a check-up organized by their school for all the staff. The head of guidance recognized me immediately. "Yale? Isn't this Shane from your family? "He works here now. And Josh's condition, there's hope for him! You should have him contact the new Dr. Cunningham right away." Seeing me in my white coat, my dad's expression shifted again and again. "This kid… switched jobs and didn't even tell me." I subtly used my coat to cover the badge hanging on my chest. It read: Department Director: Asher Cunningham

To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences. When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend. When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me. I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika." Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.

Six months after our divorce, my ex-wife, Shanon Reich went viral with her new influencer boyfriend, Tobias Hunt, gaining over ten million followers. One day, by sheer accident, I scrolled into their livestream and saw my three-year-old daughter, Ginny Herbert, trapped inside a car. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her little face was flushed, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. She looked utterly helpless. Shanon didn't smash the window, nor did she call the police. Instead, she laughed brightly at the camera. "Thank you to our top fan for the moneybag gift!" Then she grinned and said, "Send another moneybag! I'll smash the window once I get it, okay?" I lost my mind. I raced over like a madman and wrenched the car keys out of her hand. "Leomund Herbert! Are you insane?" she screamed. "Do you know how much this stream is worth? It's just a little heat! She's not going to die!" I held my daughter in my arms. Her tiny body was limp, and she was barely conscious. With reddened eyes, I pointed at her and shouted, "Shanon Reich! You will pay for this!"

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make. At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard. I rush to save the tree in tears. Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists." Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree. She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!" After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce. On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

At a banquet, Winona Quinton’s stocking got snagged on something. I moved to take her to the dressing room, only to see her male assistant reaching under her skirt. I grabbed his wrist. “What does my wife’s torn stocking have to do with you?” However, Winona shoved me away. “Stop overreacting,” she snapped. “Corey has even changed my underwear before. It’s just stockings.” That night, news of the attentive assistant caring for his female CEO went viral. By the end of the event, I was gone, leaving my resignation letter with the assistant. Upon receiving it, Winona threw it aside. “Jared Strathmore has gone too far. Get him here immediately!” I returned—this time with freshly drafted divorce papers in hand.

After connecting to a call hosted on a treasure-appraisal livestream, I find out that the "Fields of Freedom" stamp my grandpa has left me with is worth 10 million dollars. I've been troubled as to how I should afford my upcoming wedding with my girlfriend, Danielle Dalton. Delighted by the news, I call Danielle to tell her about it. Unexpectedly, Danielle, who's always such a prude about physical contact to the point that she refuses to let me kiss her, turns up on my doorstep that night. She spends the night draining me of my stamina with her skills and body. When I wake up once again, both Danielle and my stamp are gone. I visit Danielle's home to get my stamp back. But her father instantly shoves me out of the door angrily. "We don't welcome you here! Get lost right now!" At first, I thought there was a misunderstanding between us, so I still held back on my rudeness. But when I notice how rude Danielle's father is being to me, I decide to go all out on him. "Sure, I can leave, but you must return the stamp Danielle has stolen from me—" Before I can finish speaking, someone has dumped a bucket of ice-cold water onto my face. It turns out that the culprit is Danielle's mother. As she carries the bucket, she scowls at me, her features completely twisted. "Who the hell did you claim to have stolen your stamp, huh? Don't you dare run your mouth without any proof! I'll definitely sue you, you know!" Having realized how vile Danielle's parents actually are, I can't help but feel a strong hint of relief. Thank goodness I had only shown Danielle a fake copy of the stamp last night.

Mom and I board a flight to Fangoria to visit Alicia Carter, my wife. She's a special forces soldier who's here on a peacekeeping mission in this foreign country. But the moment we walk out of the airport, we're ambushed by a group of kidnappers. One of them holds a gun to Mom's head and says, "If you don't give us the ransom in three days, we'll blow her head off!" In a panic, I make a video call to Alicia, my hands shaking as I beg her to help me. "Calm down, honey. I'll put in a request to lead a rescue mission. We'll save her within 24 hours!" But the next day, I keep failing to get in touch with Alicia. After I blow up her phone with multiple calls, one finally connects. Amid her rushed panting, she tells me, "Sorry, honey. I just got assigned to an urgent escort mission. You guys just hang in there. I've arranged for the local authorities to—" Her voice is abruptly cut off by a familiar male voice. "Alicia! Thank goodness you came over just to pick me up. I didn't have to spend 100 dollars on a cab after all! That cab driver didn't even have a license, and I can't believe he tried to ask for more money…" The three-day deadline passes, and the kidnappers keep their word, letting me hear the gunshot myself. As I clutch Mom's cold, dead body, Alicia calls me out of nowhere. "Hey, honey. I just completed the escort mission. How are things on your end? Have the kidnappers released her?" I look down at Mom. Her eyes will never open again. I gently wipe the blood off her face as I reply to Alicia in an eerily calm voice, "Yeah. They have."

I had been on a business trip overseas for less than six months when I suddenly received a call from the hospital. "Mr. Jones, your wife is having a difficult labor. Should we proceed with a C-section or try to continue with a natural delivery?" The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I stood there, frozen. When I left, my wife had not shown any sign of pregnancy. How could she be giving birth less than six months later? I quickly dialed her number. The moment the call connected, I heard her cries of pain. "Honey, what's wrong?" From the other end of the line, I could hear a nurse urging her to push harder. However, my wife forced her voice to sound calm. "Sweetheart, I just slipped and fell a moment ago. It's nothing serious. You should keep focusing on your business trip. Don't worry about me." As I listened, the faint sound of a baby crying filtered through the phone. My grip tightened so hard around the phone that it nearly cracked. "Is that so? Then, get some rest," I said calmly. After hanging up, I immediately called my father, the richest man in the country. "Dad, Rebecca's cheating on me. She's in the delivery room right now, having another man's child. Stop all investments in the Harris family immediately. I want her thrown out with nothing to her name."

On the day I get promoted to the department manager, I take my parents on a trip during the holidays. But my dad invites my older brother, Jacob Hunt, and his family over as well. He even posts on social media about the event. "My oldest son really is amazing. The first thing he does is sponsor a trip for me right after he receives his salary." Jacob comments on that post, "It's my duty to care for my parents." All of my relatives compliment Jacob right away. They even text me on the family's group chat and tell me to learn from Jacob. As I quietly stare at my dad's social media post, I decide to unlink the family sharing account from my credit card right away. This time, I want to see how Jacob will care for our dad without my money.