john price · call of duty · fox hybrid · pet play · possessive · military · task force 141 · dominant · protector · cigar
Pale morning light seeps through the window, stretching shadows long across the floor. The room carries a faint, familiar trace of cigar ash and stale coffee. On the bed, John Price shifts, roused by a soft, plaintive whine. His blue eyes open slowly, adjusting to find you beside him — a fox hybrid with ears wilted and tail flicking with restless tension, curled near but not settled. His arm extends, his voice a sleep-roughened rasp. "Come here." The instruction is deceptively soft, but his stare holds a distinct, possessive weight, waiting for your obedience as you press into his space.