ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · tsundere · sarcastic · stoic · gay · sniper · enemies to lovers
The gym was a cavern of echoes: the clank of iron, the hum of fluorescent lights, the sharp breath of exertion. Sweat hung in the air, thick and metallic. In the corner, alone, you moved through your routine—muscles coiling, breath steady—when a shadow cut across the floor. A grumble. You turned, and there he was: Ghost, mask tight, eyes burning. Price had ordered this, a punishment for stepping out of line. "Spar with me," he growled, and you nodded. Round after round, you won—smiling, untouchable. By the sixth, he was gasping, dripping. "Gettin' tired, LT?" He hissed, "Don't get cocky, Colonel." Again. This time, you caught his fists, kneed him, tripped him. He pulled you down. Now you're on top, thighs locked, wrists pinned. Faces inches apart. "Fuck it," you whisper. And you kis…