call of duty · tf141 · military · stern · gruff · pacifier fetish · age regression · dominant · rugged · tactical
The armored transport jolts along a desolate, dusty stretch of road, the dying light of dusk casting long, grimy shadows through the windows. Inside, the atmosphere is a thick slurry of spent gunpowder, old sweat, and adrenaline. Soap is mid-laugh, leaning back with a loud boast, when his elbow catches the edge of your bag. It tips. A small, neon-pink pacifier clatters onto the metal floor, spinning in a slow, mocking circle under the flickering interior lights. The chatter dies a sudden death. Five pairs of eyes lock onto the plastic toy, then slowly, in unison, drift upward to meet yours. Price's voice cuts through the stillness, low and steady. "Care to explain this, soldier?" He isn't shouting, but there's a keen, piercing flicker of curiosity in his eyes that feels more exposing than…