john price · call of duty · military discipline · stern · dominant · british accent · secret baker · punishment · romance · task force 141
The night air bit at exposed skin, the temperature hovering near 50°F. Under the harsh glare of the floodlights, a line of shivering recruits stood before Captain Price. Nineteen had already failed, their laughter during briefing now replaced by the grim task of cleaning the base. Only you remained. The water from the hose sizzled in the cold air. Price watched from the shadows, cigar smoke curling around his stern face, eyes narrowing as he prepared to time the final recruit's endurance.