#Johnny the Hound Dog

[nickelodeonshows]

Johnny & Friends: Santa Johnny and Santa Polar Bear

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY HEAVENLY BIRTHDAY to Elvis Presley. When he turned 11, his mother Gladys took him to the Tupelo Hardware Company Store and bought him his first guitar: A 1947 Kay flat-top K19. He’d play this guitar throughout his school years and at his first Sun recording session. Also on this day: In 1956 his double-A single “Don’t Be Cruel/Hound Dog” went to #1 and stayed there for weeks. Fast forward to 1993 and the United States Post Office issued an Elvis Presley stamp. 

Sidebar: 1n 1976 David Bowie demo’d the song “Golden Years” with Elvis in mind to cover it (for unclear reasons Elvis nixed it even after making a demo). Rewind to 1960 when Elvis recorded the song “Black Star” (later re-titled “Flaming Star”). That song directly inspired the Black Star theme of Bowie’s final work, and it’s remarkable that Bowie was also born on the same day as Elvis.

In 2022 Baz Luhrmann released the ELVIS film, a biopic that most people think “got it right,” portraying Elvis as channeling Pentacostal church rapture with juke joint energy into one voice, one vibration. He looms over me, be it through mindful study or cultural resonance—in 1989 I named my back-up The Rover Boys after the surname for The Million Dollar Quartet a.k.a Elvis’s legendary 1956 jam session with Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Carl Perkins. Like many professional musicians, I started with cover bands playing in bars, and I’m certain I’ve learned many Elvis hits + in my solo set I do gospel songs that he favored.

Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is based on “Plaisir d’Amour,” a 1784 French chanson by Jean-Paul-Égide Martini, re-written by hit-making team Hugo & Luigi w/George David Weiss. The lyrics are informed by poet Alexander Pope and Bible verses. I always enjoyed the tune, but when I heard Bob Dylan cover it, I became inspired to play it. Dylan gave it a gospel flair, and that triangulation with God’s love is what I aim for when I do it. Here’s my cover of it with stories https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEeb6uPiQWI&t=217s Meanwhile, HB EP 

#Elvis #Presley #birthday #black #star #DavidBowie #GoldenYears #Martini #chanson #HugoandLuigi #DavyJones #Monkees #Epiphone #johnnyjblair #Kayguitar #HoundDog #Dontbecruel #king #milliondollarquartet #Johnny #Cash #JerryLeeLewis #CarlPerkins #BobDylan #Dylan #singeratlarge #postage #stamp

[meme-streets]

my favorite thing in music is when they yell random shit or wordlessly scream in the middle of the song

[pricesprincess]

jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar with Simon!!!! Maybe because reader is flirting a lil too much with soap? 👀

smut mdni | fat fem reader | he picks you up | this is my first non prompt ask and i squealed so fucking loud

meeting all of simon's friends for the first time left you on edge, three other men who suffered the same memories that keep your boyfriend awake as you peacefully sleep next to him tucking into his side.

it was at a dingy bar where there weren't many patrons but still enough to keep the place open, smoke from clipped cigars hung around the room turning it into a smokescreen of sorts.

people stayed close to the bar while others milled around other tables speaking to one another when you and simon entered, your arm looped with his as you stayed close to him for protection.

he was a guard dog as well as your boyfriend, simon has chased off a pestering co-worker of yours who has been hounding you for a date with nothing but a look while standing behind you at the party.

"lieutenant!" soap was the first one to greet him standing from the booth with a dopey smile that made you smile shyly and tuck your face into simon's bicep gathering attention from the table.

price and kyle turned to look at you, both wearing warm smiles that put you at ease. "oi, who is this pretty little thing?" soap asked, his grin deepening as you extended a hand forward to shake his.

simon grumbled his distaste when soap kissed the back of your hand letting his lips linger there for a moment as he stared at you like you were a painting of sorts. "you can let go now soap." simon told him.

"my bad lieutenant." he replied and moved over to let you have some room between him and simon.

the five of you shared stories, them about their time on missions and you as a civilian and your job as a secretary for a doctor's office, and despite the people who have gone off you it paled in comparison to what they did for a living.

simon watched as soap held your attention the most, even kyle and price shared a look before glancing at simon waiting for the moment he pulled a knife out to threaten him then you started flirting back.

it wasn't on purpose truly.

him being able to see straight down your shirt to see the soft supple skin of your breasts was a complete accident and when you got out of the booth to use the restroom the flash of your panties got him.

"i bet you're the best worker in the entire place." soap complimented before handing you the drink he just paid for with a wink pulling a giggle from you.

having to watch one of his good friends, someone who has had his back in times that most people would run from treat his girlfriend like that made simon seethe with jealously even though he understood.

you were everything he wasn't, soft and so fucking sweet.

when simon had a bad day a hug from you made it all better and being able to hold you tightly made his chest flutter, a lot of the times he was scared that something would happen and he lost you in a setting he couldn't control and right now he could control this.

"i never thought anyone could pull of a mohawk but you make it work with that grin of yours." you cooed to soap as you played with the strip of hair on the top of his head and that's when simon snapped.

he took a hold of your wrist gently but tight enough to let you know there wasn't a way out of this. simon guided you toward the back ignoring the looks from his friends and everyone else.

outside behind the bar in the alleyway you and simon stood between the narrow bricks thankful no one could see anything.

cool air caressed your warm skin as you stood by the door that clicked shut. "si?" you stepped forward placing your hand on his back when he twirled around to look at you with darkened eyes.

his mask hid his mouth but you knew that the upper one twitched with irritation. "do you want to fuck johnny?" he asked bluntly.

you furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head. "what? no. why would i want to do that when i have you?" you hummed sliding your hand up his shirt with a deep shiver as you looked back at him.

"you're entertaining the bastard." simon bit out as his fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt tugging you until there wasn't an inch of space between the both of you, his scent made your heady fuzzy.

leaning in you pressed a tender kiss between his eyes when you pulled him to your height. "he's cute, but not as cute as you are."

that was enough for simon to reach one big palm down to smack your ass making you cry out from surprise and the sting which was accompanied by it which was quickly followed by a soft moan.

simon met your heated gaze and jumped up letting him catch you as your legs wrapped around his waist while you clung to his broad shoulders still feeling a little nervous about your lover doing this.

hooking a finger in his mask you tugged it until his lips were visible and you could feel the roughness of them against the softness of your own. simon turned to have your back against the wall.

you engaged him in a sloppy makeout session, tongues gliding against one another as you licked into his mouth like a hungry thing as your fingers clawed at his jacket feeling your cunt leak slick.

the gusset of your panties stuck to your pussylips while you ground against simon needily with soft pants until one hand was sliding into his pants to stroke the thick length of his cock, so heavy and warm.

simon made sure that the brick didn't bite into your back as his hand moved from under your thigh to between your legs to easily rip at the stockings you put on because it was rather chilly this evening.

"si!" you cried and buried your face in his neck feeling the cold air kiss the baren skin that pooled out of the gaping hole in the fabric.

thick fingers simply moved your panties to the side to play with your arousal making it coat each inch of your cunt before sinking two fingers in your heat making you bite down on his throat.

you matched the pace of his fingers that scissored deep inside your cunt making you squeal and hump him the best you could as you jerked him off while struggling your best to kiss him how you could.

he bucked into your hand and pulled his fingers out making you pout from the loss of him. "say you're mine." simon needed to hear it to help soothe away the thorns of the green monster that got him.

"i'm all yours simon, no one else's, i only want you." you whispered in between each peck as you helped him remove his dick in a haste to feel the thick crown push against the first ring of muscles.

with your admission, simon bent his knees a bit and dropped you down fully on his cock causing tears to instantly prick your eyes. "that's for letting soap think he has a chance with you sweetheart."

with simon balls deep in your drenched cunt you swore you felt him in your womb as he ground against you not even thrusting in and out feeling the way you twitched around him so warm and fucking wet.

now that his mouth has been exposed he left a trail of bites and passionate open-mouthed kisses along your neck and chest marking you in a way that people can see and they could smell him on you.

it was wild as you tried to fuck him back with soft whines that grew louder as he picked up the pace feeling his sack pat against you, it had to be somewhat of a quickie so no one would come out and see.

another sloppy thrust and your orgasm ripped open making you cream simon's dick that pulsed nestled between your walls dumping a thick load into you as his mouth found yours in a heated kiss.

he held you there until the both of you came down from your high and most times simon would eat his load out of you or clean you up he decided to just fix your panties when he sat you down. 'a reminder of who you're with." he whispered in your ear as he opened the door.

comments and relogs with tags are really appreciated <3

[quarterlifekitty]

so I’m a little freak that gets a raging boner when stupid doofus characters realize how much they messed up and hurt someone

would cum in my pants a little if you made college Johnny from the promethean series suffer I’ll be real

I’d like to think Simon actually manages to coax shy!reader out of their shell and make some cute noises for him during sex :(( and Johnny has to hear just how sweet they sound when someone fucks them right

need that dog to come begging for scraps (please)

This also gives me a boner

Promethean: Coming home to roost

Why is he doing this? Why is he doing this?

He’d come to Simon’s room to talk about his their the bird. The logic just didn’t click in his brain in time. Obviously if his door was closed, it meant she was inside with him, didn’t it? That he was inside of her—

Soap was about to knock when he heard it. Angelic. That was the word for it, really. He prided himself on his skills, but he didn’t know women could sound like that. That you could sound like that.

Johnny had made you cum. Every time he was with you— at least once, usually more. But your sounds were so hushed. You bit your lip and whined. It was cute, and he wasn’t so invested in your pleasure that he needed you to scream for him or anything. He knew you were having a good time, that was enough. Right?

But the moans he heard through that door. He could picture you, mouth wide and back arching while Simon held his calloused fingers at your clit, his strokes careful and deliberate. Soap felt himself rooted at the door. He shouldn’t be listening. But he can’t bring himself to walk away.

Your sounds change. Punctuated. Like you’re crying out for more with every thrust. Johnny can just barely hear the wet smack of flesh on flesh, of your cunt gushing she takes everything Simon has to give.

“Yes, yes— Simon, oh, fuck— please? Oh my god—“

Johnny’s used to getting so horny is brain fogs up. It’s normal for him to get hard and think “this is the hardest I’ve ever been”. But this time it might be true. And he hates it. Why didn’t you sound this good in his bed? Why did he give a fuck?

He knew why you didn’t sound as good back the . He could hear your cries being swallowed by Simon’s mouth as he kissed you. Fucker probably had you in missionary (he did) and was holding your hand (he was) while cooing in your ear about how gorgeous you were and how perfect you felt (it was more like growling).

You were getting fucked proper. And here he was, the once proud hound now pawing at the master’s door like a stray. He doesn’t just want you back, which is horrific enough to realize— he wants to be in the room with the both of you. Wants to see how Simon’s cock is making you feel religion. Wants to stroke his cock and watch how it’s done, then take a turn in your creamy pussy after he’s done and get scolded with Simon’s hand pinching his neck from the back— scolded for not knowing how to fuck you, love you, appreciate what you’d—

Your near sobbing cry from beyond the door snaps free the coil that’d wound so tight in his belly.

Oh fuck. No, no, no. He couldn’t have. Untouched? Never— not him. Fuck.

You’re on your side, nestled under Simon’s arm and nuzzling into his chest when you hear a door slam in the hallway.

[oceantornadoo]

ch7 the wrong john | masterlist | next

tw: minor violence in the last sentence

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

--

Simon might be a ghost on the battlefield, but you become the ghost on base.

Everyone’s gone. Your only company is your cat, and even Bubbles is starting to get sick of you. You can’t work, have nothing to contribute to the base, and it’s not like the military is going to recruit you for help. 

John and Kyle are gone for weeks. Five days into your abandonment, a nurse puts you out of your misery and recruits you as a medbay volunteer. You fetch supplies, talk to injured soldiers, and deliver food trays. It’s thankless work as most of the hospital occupants are too injured to talk or too caught up in memories of the battlefield. Occasionally, you can make someone smile, especially once you start bringing Bubbles in. Dogs might be favored for therapy animals, but in the grimness of the grey medbay, your cat does the trick. Those smiles keep you going, reminding you of the task force you’ve come to regard as yours. 

Volunteer work gives you time to think. To ponder John’s words and how, despite the idiocy of him just assuming you were together, they were what you’ve been wanting to hear. You’ve been straddling this line of jealousy and avoidance, wanting John to yourself while knowing you can’t want him at all. But is that really the case? If Johnny’s dating Simon, maybe it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you could be with John. You just need to approach the subject with caution, and give him time to warm up to it. He’s never met a boyfriend of yours, so you can’t show PDA off the bat. It might take a while, but optimism seeps through your veins.

It’s the feeling you can know so much without knowing anything at all. You have no clue how Johnny will react or if John will even want to date you now that you’ve hurt him. What will Simon and Kyle think? You’ve only met them a few times, but with how much Johnny trusts them, their acceptance means everything.

Of course, all of your plans include Johnny surviving whatever hell he’s in, and that realization quickly snuff the flames of your desire. You ride this seesaw of emotions for weeks, thinking of John one day and your brother the next. It doesn’t help you have no one to talk to except your cat and soldiers in comas. Your social life is really looking up.

Eventually, the nurses stop seeing you as a nuisance and more of a new fixture on base. It’s the nurses that keep medbay functioning, especially when doctors are focused on emergency patients. Someone finds out you’re Johnny’s brother and suddenly you’re hounded by two women asking if you know of one Kyle Garrick. They must be in that love triangle John mentioned. You warn them to not get attached, something someone should have warned you months ago.

Three weeks later, there’s an early morning knock at your door. It’s barely 5 am and even the sun isn’t awake yet. You trudge your way to the door, grabbing one of Johnny’s sweatshirts to battle the early morning cold. There’s a runty almost-kid at your door, shifting from foot to foot. He almost flinches when you open the door, head snapping up to look at your face, then back to his boots. It’s a bit unnerving, how scared he looks.

“Ms. Mactavish?”

“That’s me.”

“You’re wanted at the helipad. Captain Price is back.” You can’t help the gasp that escapes you, how the rookie in front of you almost jumps back in fear. “Did they say anything about Sergeant Mactavish? Soap or Ghost?” He shakes his head and your heart drops to your stomach. “No, ma’am. That’s all they told me. I’m here to walk you to the helipad.” You’re already moving, fumbling for the closest pair of shoes, shoving them on without socks. You close the door and wait for him to direct you. He stands there, almost twitching. “Well?” You adopt a forceful tone, reminiscent of your captain. The recruit jumps slightly, then starts walking down the hall, gesturing to you to follow. You’re speedwalking, leading even though you have no idea where you’re going. Finally, after minutes of silence, he brings you to a nondescript elevator. When you get inside, there’s only one button, an up arrow. You wring your hands as the elevator moves up, every worst possible fear coming to mind. What if John comes back empty-handed? Or with two body bags? They didn’t even mention Kyle. What if he got captured too? You shake the thoughts out, knowing you’ll get your answers in seconds.

The elevator stops, dinging as the doors open. It’s dark and cold outside, but you’re fixated on the doors of the helicopter in front of you. It’s opening and you’re moving, practically running across the roof. A figure with a shaved head is jumping out, the darkness hiding his face. You finally reach him and cry out in relief.

“Johnny!”

“M'eudail.”

His response is muffled by the hug you attack him with. He’s skinnier than usual, no longer built like a tank. It doesn’t matter as long as he’s here, arms wrapped around you. The tears fall unbidden and you think he’s crying too, something you’ve only seen him once at nine years old when he broke his arm climbing a tree. You rub your arms up and down his back, calming him like you would yourself. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” He nods against you, tears slowing as you simply hold each other. “Thought you got the memo, you’re not allowed to leave me, Johnny.” You hate how long it takes for him to find a comeback as all he does is squeeze you tighter. “Won’t do it again, hen.”

You finally pull back to take a look at him. His usually bright eyes have dulled and his facial hair is shaved unevenly. And, like you originally thought, his mohawk is gone, replaced with a terrible buzzcut. You run your hands around his smooth head and hate the feel of it. “‘M sorry, Johnny. It’ll grow back.” He gives you a watery smile, hands finally relaxing their grip on you. He blinks back the remaining tears and you can see his soldier persona take over as his back straightens. You take one more moment to kiss his cheek, then pull back out of his grip. Over his shoulder, you spot Simon being handed a medical mask by Kyle. Once he puts it on, you approach him gratefully.

“Simon.” He scoops you up in a hug. “Bird.” You smile against his mask. “Thank you for keeping him safe.” He nods against you, releasing you from his grip. “Think he kept me alive, t’ be honest.” You grin and give him the same cheek kiss you gave Johnny.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You turn and let out a shout of relief. It’s Kyle. “You’re alive!” It’s another brotherly hug you dole out, squeezing him tightly. “Couldn’t leave ya alone, angel.” You giggle. “I’m glad you’re alive. I met some very lovely nurses while you were gone who had very interesting thoughts on you.” You can hear him audibly gulp for effect, a smirk written on his face when you pull out of his grip. “We’ve got things to discuss, then.” He winks and you wink back.

There’s a pair of eyes that have been staring at you for a while now. John’s the last out of the helicopter, conferring with the soldiers around him before saying his hellos. A doctor is checking out Johnny and Simon, Kyle talking to them in murmured tones. John walks toward you quietly, stopping silently. The words of the last conversation you had float between you, bitter from weeks of overthinking.

When John opens his arms for a hug, your senses go haywire. The noises of the task force, of your brother, fade to the background as John gathers you into his arms. He smells like gunpowder and blood, that familiar scent of pine and musk nowhere to be found. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I said.” You murmur it into the crook of his neck. John stiffens slightly, knowing you’re referring to your last conversation. Where you told him you couldn’t be together. 

“‘M sorry f’r not communicatin’.” You shake your head against him like you won’t accept his apology. His hand traces the path of your spine and digs into the nape of your neck, gripping the base of your hair like a leash. “What’re you sayin’, sweetheart?” The hug has gone on far too long for this to be normal, for you to be having this conversation wrapped in each other. You pull back slightly to see his face, arms still wrapped around him. “I can’t not be with you, John. We’ll figure everything else out.” He pulls you in for a kiss, a short and sweet one that wraps around you like a warm blanket. The moment is perfect.

Well, it is perfect, until you remember your brother standing a few meters away. Johnny, recent captive and loyal twin, is red in the face watching his sister kiss his captain. You turn your head to see Simon put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, an attempt to calm him that does not work. Johnny’s charging the two of you like an angry bull, huffing and mad. He reaches you in quick steps, hands balled in fists at his side.

“Didnae ken who ta yell at first.” His eyes drop to John’s hand in your hair and his nostrils flare. John’s hands drop, pushing you around him and away from your brother. “Guess it’s you, Cap.” And that’s when Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, known spitfire, punches his captain.

- 50 points to anyone who can find the taylor swift lyric. hint it’s from Red and it’s an underrated song imo.

taglist:

@lveegsoi

@galactict3a 

@nova-willow-541 

@sirbonesly 

@starlightkitten19

@prettycatboy

@roastyyytoastyyy

@autumnheartsprice

@lucienofthelakes

@eyeless-kun

@bina-passion-fruit

@lilynotdilly

@lovenewfandoms

@tired-writer04

@sleep101

@konigsm

@mehjustalasshere

@alyssajofreitas

@thriving-n-jiving

@royalz658

@honestlymassivetrash

@krispymagazinepizza-blog

@just-a-harmless-potato-05

@vullzo

@rosallels

[callmecoke]

cw: NSFW, oral sex, fluffy smut, gentle sex, gender-neutral reader and anatomy

Lokey getting tired of rough sex poly 141 headcanons.

Give me something with some passion! With feeling! 

I want you to go through the worst day of your life. You’re overworked, over-stimulated, in your head about everything, insecure, the whole shebang. You come home, drop your bag on the floor, and your boys turn around to look at you. And you’re just…Not there, you know? You've entirely blanked out, and tears are swelling in your eyes without even noticing it happening.

And like you’ve whistled for the hound dogs, they’ve come running to you. Gaz is always the first to reach you, wipe those tears away from your eyes, and ask if you’re okay. John is an action man and moves you to sit on the couch, somewhere you're safe and you can rest your legs. Like the dynamic duo, they are, Soap and Ghost sit on either side of you. Soap has his entire body around you, caressing your arm softly and pulling you into his chest because he knows how much his hugs comfort you. Ghost doesn’t move much, but he’s looking you over with a deep feeling of concern and worry while gently brushing your hair out of your face to look into your eyes.

They just wait for you to talk, knowing that they don’t want to push too hard, or else you’ll crack under the pressure. Their silent, calming presence is enough to make you feel safe. And you tell me you just want to feel loved right now. Feel needed. Feel them entirely, body and soul, so you can forget everything except being with them.

And they’re a little hesitant. It feels pushy to have sex while you’re this vulnerable. But when you curl up closer to Johnny’s side and tell them that that’s all you want, they could never say no. 

So they take their time with you, slowly pealing off your clothes bit by bit, their lips and tongues tracing every inch of skin as a silent form of worship. You’ll rest on John's large chest as he engulfs you with his arms fully; he kisses along your neck and whispers praise in your ear. Ghost will take your lips to his, kissing with a gentleness he reserves only for you. Gaz finds his hand going to any exposed skin he can find. Your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, everything. And as they wonder your body, he groans about how amazing you feel under his fingers, how good you look so exposed and vulnerable like this. Johnny, of course, has found his way to his knees, licking long strips up over your sex while moaning like it's the best meal he’s eaten all day (It is). 

And even in the debauchery of how they make you moan between them, there’s this loving, careful overtone with every action they take. Like when John kisses your head, or when Ghost uses his hand to stroke over your cheek, when Gaz moves his hands from your chest to stroke over the goosebumps on your arm to calm them down, even when Johnny whispers into your slick arousal about how gorgeous you look with his mouth full of you. 

And when you’re right and properly drained just how you like it, with your brain turned to liquid sludge as you forget what made you so upset in the first place, they’ll take you to bed, curl you up against their warm bodies, and fall asleep with you in their arms protectively holding you.

[machveil]

GuardDog!Simon Riley x Puppy!Reader x Mutt!John MacTavish thoughts? they’re all just coded that way to me hmmm (a bit of a longer post, whoopsies)

CW: ambiguous relationship dynamic - up to your interpretation, size difference, “Pup” and “Puppy”, Simon x Reader x Johnny

GuardDog!Simon Riley who’s just on the border of being a hair too protective over you. can you blame him? in his eyes you’re just a little thing that needs him - Simon’s puppy who needs to be safeguarded. he shields you from strangers, blocking their view of you with his broad body. he has half a mind to snarl at them, bare his teeth and fight tooth and nail for you. he’ll drape his jacket over you, make it known that you’re with him

Mutt!Johnny who’s excitable around you, always has his big, rough hands holding or resting against you. he’s not as openly intimidating as Simon, but his possessive streak rivals his. while Simon aims to guard you, drape you in his clothes and scent, Johnny will happily bite and nip on your skin in public. grubby hands pawing at your hips and waist, sloppy, uncoordinated kisses pressed to your cheeks. when someone approaches you Johnny will slink up behind you, hands resting over your tummy as he smiles at the poor stranger, chin resting on your shoulder

GuardDog!Simon Riley who begrudgingly lets you wander off in shops you like. he’ll stalk behind you from a distance, always keeping an eye on you - never too far out of reach in case someone approaches you. he’s oblivious to how it looks - his massive figure, dressed head to to toe in black, following a cute little thing like you around. oblivious to how employees and shoppers stare at him, he’s scared a couple people before for approaching you. they were just concerned about the man following, you sweetly explaining how Simon is with you, a good dog, making sure you’re safe

Mutt!Johnny who has no shame, will grab you by the fat of your hips and sit you down on his lap. you’re not getting up, his arms locking around your waist as he kisses your neck - his scruff grazing your skin lightly. “Bein’ a good pup?”, he asks, delighted when you squirm. you’ll get up when Johnny is ready to, even if it means being stuck in his lap for a couple hours. he won’t neglect you though, makes sure you have snacks and a drink, keeping himself busy by petting your hair, gently scratching at your scalp as he relaxes. it’s nice, right bonnie?

bonus Hound!Price x Puppy!Reader thoughts

Hound!Price who sees you, his cute little puppy, and keeps his gaze trained on you. it’s hard to get his attention off of you, stalking up behind you to hug your waist. just a little thing, swallowed by his frame as he holds you. it’s less for your enjoyment and more for his, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck, his scruffy beard tickling your skin. he’ll ask about your day, who you saw, what you ate - he just wants listen to you

Hound!Price who loves the smell of your shampoo and body wash, who would drown in your scent if he could. perfume or cologne, he’ll spray your preference on you in the morning before pressing his face to your neck. he soaks it up, hugs you so your scent rubs off on him, keeps him company throughout the day. if you’d rather though, Price isn’t afraid to pull you into the shower and use his shampoo and soap on you, hands gently massaging the suds against your skin. he won’t stop until you reek of each other

CW: Fem!Reader, uuh Ghost x Reader x Johnny again<3, Simon guiding(?) Johnny, Mutt!Johnny just gets so excited, oral (Fem!recieving)

GuardDog!Simon Riley has one job, making sure you’re kept safe and happy. he doesn’t know a better way of doing that than propping you up on his lap, sitting pretty with your legs spread. back pressed to his chest as he presses a firm kiss to the back of your head. lazily rubbing circles over your clit, dipping down to slide his middle finger into your cunt, only to stop and thumb at your pearl again. eyelids drooping as he listens to you whine, soft little moans coaxed out of you by his hand. Simon who beckons Johnny over, haphazardly rubbing his palm against your slit

Mutt!Johnny who kneels on the floor, pupils dilated as he nips at your thighs. gaze glued to where Simon’s hand is, messily spreading your slick around. when he pulls his hand away you can’t complain, not when his hand moves to grip Johnny’s mohawk. a muffled groan, Johnny can’t help but squirm as Simon guides his face between your thighs, lapping at your cunt. no technique or thought behind his movement, drool and spit mixing with your cum. you can’t be mad at him, not when he’s desperately moaning against your heat, nosing at your clit without knowing

[thegnomelord]

yk how they cover fighting dog's eyes in order to calm them down? would that work on Hound or just rile him up more? if it'd calm him down I can imagine when/if he's "better" enough he'd start shoving his face into price or any of the other 141 to feel safer/calm, like nuzzling in between their shoulder blades/neck or if they're lying down together just pushing his head into their arms 😶‍🌫️

hmmm Price holding Hound against his chest to calm him while he claws and begs into his captain's skin for forgiveness because he acted out again, even if Price had already forgiven him🤔

if the loss of sight just makes things worse then I can see all of them always making sure Hound can know where they are, making noise when they can and maybe even dragging their feet a bit so he doesn't swivel his head around constantly to look for them😚 ignore this if u want tho reading it back is making me cringe a bit-

No, no, anon this is great! Y'all are giving me so many ideas♥️

I definitely think Price would have done that to Hound before he got captured, putting his beanie or just his hand over Hound's eyes and talking about Hound like he wasn't even there to basically calm him down. Like you know how you're a kid sitting between your parents and they're talking about you but you're snoozing or something like that. It would have just been comforting for Hound.

But Makarov soured it by using sensory deprivation as a punishment. And a pretty severe one at that, so Hound gets extremely violent when his sight is deprived.

But also like, when Hound's better, letting them cover his eyes as just this huge show of trust just melts my heart. Like:

CW:SFW just a bunch of fluff, cuddle piles

This feels. . . strange.

You're laying on top of Price, practically crushing him beneath your weight, your head and shoulders pushed beneath his loose shirt so you can lay your head on his naked chest. It's dark, and warm, the scent of musk and sweat curls in your nose as his thick chest hair tickles your face with every even breath, his heart beating so calmly beneath your ears.

It's strange. It's the best way you can describe it; a part of you is disgusted with the proximity, panic occasionally jolting through your system and lining your muscles with lead as your body expects for the hit to come any moment. Only for a calloused hand to run down your spine gently, turning your tense muscles into mush.

"You're alright lad." His voice rumbles in his chest, a type of tone that is both calming and commanding. "Just listen to my voice yeah? Good boy," A pleasant shiver runs up your spine as the praise, a low whimper escaping you as you nuzzle your head further into his pecs. Your head feels stuffed with cotton yet his low praises still reach your brain, and it feels strange to get them without any work, to be praised just for simply existing, but it's also. . . nice.

"Oi Price-" You tense immediately as the door suddenly opens, loud voices shooting lightning into your muscles. Price scruffs you through the shirt before you can react any more, calming you down to the point you don't even notice what they're talking about.

"Wh- Soap!" Price shouts.

You feel the bed dip, a disgruntled sound leaving your chest as a body shuffles under Price's shirt next to you. Soap's scent hits your nose before his head bumps into yours, "Yer like a pig in shite pup." His hair scratches your face as he makes himself comfortable on Price's other pec, and you don't need sight to know he's grinning like a fool. "Cozy in 'ere."

"How comfortable are his tits?" Ghost's voice reaches your ears, and it must be his body that lays down next to yours, supporting some of your weight that you're not crushing Price by wrapping a loose hand around your waist. His body is solid against yours, both of them are, Johnny's arm wrapping around you just bellow Simon's hand, unapologetically groping your ass.

"Boys!" Price sputters, and without sight you can only imagine how flushed his face must be, he always got red as a lobster when you'd tease him. "Can't you be decent for one day?"

"We're wearing pants aren't we?" Gaz's laugh sounds somewhere behind you, and you're pretty sure it's Gaz that lays down between your legs, using your ass as a pillow. "Oh, wow," You hear him mumble as if astonished, heat burning across your skin as you feel him nuzzle into your ass.

A low whine escapes your throat without notice, and you're not sure why, just something about the way they handle you, like you're made of glass, makes lightning crackle down your spine.

"Do you want to stop?" Price's voice is non-judgmental, his hand brushing your hair that peeked through the stretched taught neckline of his shirt.

You shut your eyes, breathing in deeply. "No." You say, your arms gripping Price's pudgy stomach even tighter.

You feel Johnny shift closer to you, his lips blindly brushing against yours. "Aye, yer fine bonnie." He grins, and pushes his head to meet your lips in a proper kiss. You can taste the aftertaste of tobacco from his cigarettes and the mints on his tongue.

This is nice. You could get used to this.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[nickelodeonshows]

Johnny & Friends Minis: Santa Johnny

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY HEAVENLY BIRTHDAY to Elvis Presley. When he turned 11, his mother Gladys took him to the Tupelo Hardware Company Store and bought him his first guitar: A 1947 Kay flat-top K19. He’d play this guitar throughout his school years and at his first Sun recording session. Also on this day: In 1956 his double-A single “Don’t Be Cruel/Hound Dog” went to #1 and stayed there for weeks. Fast forward to 1993 and the United States Post Office issued an Elvis Presley stamp. 

 

Sidebar: 1n 1976 David Bowie demo’d the song “Golden Years” with Elvis in mind to cover it (for unclear reasons Elvis nixed it even after making a demo). Rewind to 1960 when Elvis recorded the song “Black Star” (later re-titled “Flaming Star”). That song directly inspired the Black Star theme of Bowie’s final work, and it’s remarkable that Bowie was also born on the same day as Elvis.

 

In 2022 Baz Luhrmann released the ELVIS film, a biopic that most people think “got it right,” portraying Elvis as channeling Pentacostal church rapture with juke joint energy into one voice, one vibration. He looms over me, be it through mindful study or cultural resonance—in 1989 I named my back-up The Rover Boys after the surname for The Million Dollar Quartet a.k.a Elvis’s legendary 1956 jam session with Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Carl Perkins. Like many professional musicians, I started with cover bands playing in bars, and I’m certain I’ve learned many Elvis hits + in my solo set I do gospel songs that he favored.

 

Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is based on “Plaisir d’Amour,” a 1784 French chanson by Jean-Paul-Égide Martini, re-written by hit-making team Hugo & Luigi w/George David Weiss. The lyrics are informed by poet Alexander Pope and Bible verses. I always enjoyed the tune, but when I heard Bob Dylan cover it, I became inspired to play it. Dylan gave it a gospel flair, and that triangulation with God’s love is what I aim for when I do it. Here’s my cover of it with stories https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEeb6uPiQWI&t=217s Meanwhile, HB EP 

 

#Elvis #Presley #birthday #black #star #DavidBowie #GoldenYears #Martini #chanson #HugoandLuigi #DavyJones #Monkees #Epiphone #johnnyjblair #Kayguitar #HoundDog #Dontbecruel #king #milliondollarquartet #Johnny #Cash #JerryLeeLewis #CarlPerkins #BobDylan #Dylan #singeratlarge #postage #stamp

[handfetis]

It’s johnnys birthday!!

1956 - John turns 16 and uses his birthday money to buy two singles— Hound Dog by Elvis Presley and The Ying Tong Song by The Goons (note; John wouldn’t own a guitar until later that year)

1961 - John receives a hefty amount of money from a relative for his 21st birthday and decides to go to Spain with Paul McCartney. After arriving at Paris, they agree to stay there instead.

1980 - John’s final birthday, he turns 40 and his son Sean turns 5. Yoko hires an aircraft pilot to skywrite “Happy Birthday John + Sean - Love Yoko”. John is also gifted a knitted tie and a Patek Philippe watch from Yoko.

[b0n3s-is-gay]

What the Outsider Boys would want for Christmas (Masterlist -> here)

Darrel Shaynne Curtis:

Darry, if he were to want one thing for christmas. He would tell you he doesn't want anything. But he actually wants a night of quiet, a night free of worries.

While it's really more of a gift for the gang, like going out on your dime and having a good time while you and Darry are at home alone. He's going to take advantage of that night.

Dinner date in, cuddling while watching a movie on the couch, taking a bath together, and if you're lucky, a passionate night that isn't just a quiet quickie.

Keith "Two-bit" Mathews:

Two bit? Well, twobit wants many things. Maybe a bottle of booze or a mickey shirt. Both are good options, but he want to have a new jacket.

Don't get him wrong, he loves his normal jacket, but he wants a winter jacket. His leather one doesn't do much in terms of winter protection.

It doesn't even have to be a good jacket, it can be second hand and he will still be greatful.

Dallas "Dally" Winston:

Bail, bail money.

On a serious note, get him a pet. I think Dally is alone with his thoughts a lot and it's scary for him. As we saw in the movie and in the book, he's on a hair trigger about if he's going to end his life. So I like to think he needs constant companionship.

A basset hound would be the best breed for him because those dogs are the best company and they will take all your attention away from your thoughts, in Dally's case, it's needed.

Steve Randle:

Same as Two-bit but for a different reason. Steve wants a new jacket simply because he doesn't have one.

His dad is abusive, Ponyboy said so himself. So his dad has probably given him the bare minimum and everything else he has has been bought with his own money or hand me downs from the Curtis's.

A winter jacket would go far for him as those types of jackets cost an arm and a fucking leg. He'll also be even more appreciative if it's a size or two too big so he can grow into it and get many years of use out of it.

Sodapop Patrick Curtis:

I think Soda would be happy with anything. But if you asked him, he'd tell you a chain. If you asked him on a deeper level, he'd tell you a simple chain so he can wear his parent's rings close to his heart.

Sodapop has his parents' rings, he holds them close and sometimes you can see him wearing his dad's ring on his left middle finger as it's too big for his ring finger.

If you got him a chain and then helped him loop his parents' rings around the chain, he'd cry. A hug from them would always be worth more, but just having their rings close to his heart.

Johnny Cade:

A blanket, that's what he wants for christmas. He wasnts a blanket that's only his.

Johnny has a shitty home life, fuck you Mr. and Mrs. Cade, and he's often left to sleep out in the lot or the Curtis household. Plus, if there's a chance you make the blanket by had or you spray it in your purfume/colonge, he will cry.

That's all he wants, he'll use it every day. He'll lay awake at night and smile when he thinks back to how he got the blanket.

Ponyboy Michael Curtis:

Pre book, he'll want some new track spikes. Post book, he'll want a copy of Gone With The Wind.

Post book, I think Ponyboy would quit track. Everytime the starter pistol sounded, he'd flinch and be reminded of Dally, so he quit track. So a copy of Gone With The Wind would be the best gift for him.

Reading this book would remind him of his time with Johnny. When he unwraps it, he looks at the picture of Johnny and Dally on the mantle and smiles somberly. He then gently hugs you and whispers his thanks, trying to resist the urge to read out loud for you like he did for Johnny.

Tags: @witchyleehibernates

[quarterlifekitty]

So I've been wanting a dog for SO long and I'm still not in a position to get one in good conscience, but together with a partner it could maybe be possible. How would the CoD men react to you suggesting getting a dog together? And also, what kind of dog would they want? And what would they want to name it?

Hope you realize that they’re gonna get deployed at some point and then it’s your dog lol

Gaz wants very classic, intelligent medium-large dog. German Shepard, Labrador, malamute, something like that. And he acts like he’s your dad when you ask about it. Like “are you sure we can handle the responsibility???” Like I dunno Kyle if you’re telling me that I can trust you with an automatic rifle in a foreign country but I can’t trust you to co-parent a dog then I’m not paying my fucking taxes this year. Anyway, it likes him more even though you’re the principal food giver, and it has a simple, pretty name like Lucy or Daisy.

You’re going to have to ask Soap about getting a dog on your second date if you wanna beat him. This man is 100% the type to bring home an animal without asking or telling you. Terrier of some kind— friend of his was giving away puppies and he couldn’t help himself because without you he has no impulse control. You come home to the puppy tearing into one of his boots and you’re like “Johnny. What is this.” And he’s like “That’s Gargamel” as if that should satisfy all of your curiosity.

Ghost is kinda reluctant. He doesn’t think of himself as nurturing. He doesn’t like noise. He’s all “if we’re gonna have a dog, it’s gonna need discipline from day one”. You get a mutt from a shelter, some pit bull mix. On day 2 he’s letting his leg fall asleep because the dog is sleeping on his lap. It has a generic dog name, like Spike.

Price thinks a dog is a good idea. Could keep you company while he’s away, and you probably need some more time to warm up to living with him before he suggests a baby. He insists you decide on the breed because you’ll be spending the most time with it, but he’s clearly very biased. He’s pushing for a dog with floppy ears. This man wants a wrinkly dog. You’re getting a basset hound, is what I’m saying. He decided when you brought up getting a dog. The dog gets a rank, also. Sergeant Columbo. Sarge for short.

König does not realize this, but his favored breeds are all intelligent, somewhat violent, and require a lot of grooming. Childishly, he doesn’t love the idea of getting a dog because it means sharing your attention with an animal, but at the same time he feels it would be cruel to deny you that considering that he can’t be home all of the time. You get a poodle or a bedlington terrier. It has a cute name like Mitzi, but like. That thing is tearing squirrels to shreds. And he loves it. But it loves you more.

Nikolai agrees on a dog, so long as it has utility as well as being a companion. He’ll get you a doberman, and it’ll be trained at a highly rated obedience school, and further trained by him to basically defend you to the death. And you can tell him that you don’t think anyone is ever gonna try to pull anything on you while this dog is around, but he just says it doesn’t hurt to be careful. Its name is something edgy like Dante, Mephistopheles, Cerberus. He thinks a scary dog needs a scary name, even if it acts like a puppy when it’s around you.

[buunbaanbeen]

mine w/ johnny ‘soap’ mactavish

hello? is this thing on?? i’m a writer but i’ve never written anything for COD before so uh…. here you go!! anyways, it’s just an idea that’s been on my mind for a while and i thought it would be best to shove it into the void in the hopes that it sticks.

MDNI!!!!

not proofread bc it’s like 4am and i’m tired…

——————————————————————————

there’s something about his upstairs neighbour that johnny just despises. he’s never met you, nor does he even know your name, but with the amount of times you’ve almost come through his ceiling with your banging about, he things he has more than enough reason to. he’s spend hours imagining whoever it is that lives up there, sketching out face after face in his sketchbook before scribbling moustaches and glasses on them like an immature child defacing a magazine. he feels childish whenever he tears the random faces out of the book and tosses them into the bin, but then he hears your forgetful self open and slam your front door 3 times before leaving, and he reminds himself why he hates you so much.

one morning, when the banging starts at 6am, johnny decides that he’s had enough. he’s big and bulky enough to be an intimidating presence to anyone that comes down those stairs, and the bullet scar that sits on his bicep, just beneath the hem of his sleeve, only adds to his overall aura. it doesn’t matter if it’s a little old lady with an equally old dog in her arms, or a man twice his size; john is ready to confront them. maybe a few harsh words will get them to shut the fuck up and give him a little peace every once in a while.

he waits to hear the door upstairs shut once, twice, and then finally a third time before stepping out into the corridor, still barefoot with his pyjama pants hanging slack on his hips. images flash through his head of who you might be, months worth of hate-filled drawings fluttering around his head like kites. the sound of the steps creaking fills him with anticipation until you come into his like of vision.

and john really can’t help the way his breath hitches in his throat upon seeing the way those thigh high socks and that tiny little skirt make your thighs look extra plush. the way your ribbed tshirt sticks to your chest and makes your tits look extra perky as they bounce with every step you take. his throat goes dry as he sees the collar-esque choker that bobs up and down your throat as you swallow down your energy drink, only for it to fill with drool once more when his gaze finally settles on your face.

fucking hell, did his pants feel tight.

you’re still an annoyance, he reminds himself as you offer a polite smile in his direction, your face lighting up like you’d stolen the light from the sun and taken it for yourself. you’re still loud, and clumsy and forgetful and he still despises every bone in your pretty fucking body. you’re still the bane of his—

“can i just squeeze past?” fuck, johnny thinks he might be in love. he’s never believed in love at first sight before, but as you flutter those thick eyelashes at him, he can’t think of any other reason as to why his heart is beating so fast. so perfect, so pretty; you were made for him to have and to hold, and he’s never believed anything more firmly.

“you’re gonna be cold dressed like that,” he blurts out, feeling stupid the second the words leave his lips. why couldn’t he just give you a cheesy pick up line and leave it at that?

but still, you smirk up at him as you lift the can of pure caffeine to your lips, and johnny thinks he dies a little inside. men have gone to war for faces far less pretty than yours, and johnny knows that if you asked him to, he would as well. a single word from you, and he’d be at your beck and call, feeling like a loyal hound at your command. his eyes can’t help but linger on the collar around your neck, and something twinges in his chest.

a mutt and his little pedigree pup; yeah, that feels correct.

“my hoodies are at the laundromat,” you shrug off his comment as it makes him feel any better about you going outside in your current state of dress. as lame as his pickup line was, it was a real concern of his. a precious thing like you out there on such a cold january morning? it just didn’t sit right to him, “which is where i’m going, if you’ll just let me—”

you try to shuffle past his larger form, but a hand on the shoulder stops you in your place. your flesh is so warm to touch, even when hidden beneath your tshirt, and johnny decides then and there that he never wants to be without it again. all he wants it you in his arms for the rest of eternity, and he’d be happy until the end of time.

“you’re headed to do your laundry at this time?” he quirks an eyebrow at your odd decision, and yet you nod back like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“there’s no one there at this time of day; it means i get best pick of the washers!”

johnny’s heart clenches as he listens to your excitement over being able to choose which washer you want to use. if small things like this bring you so much joy, he wonders what it’ll be like if he were to put a ring on your finger? he scolds himself for thinking something so silly and corrects himself; when he puts a ring on your finger.

“so you get up this early just to wash your hoodies?” he thinks about you lay on his bed looking all sweet and pliant in one of his own, the hood hanging over your eyes and the sleeves tucked over your fists like little paws. he can just imagine how sweet you sound when you giggle over him jokingly scolding you for your theft. one day, the sound of your laughter will be his ringtone so he can hear it whenever he’s away from you.

there’s a funny look on your face just before you tip your drink all the way back and finish it off with a gulp. the collar tightens on your throat, and johnny’s boxers tighten even more around his cock. it only gets worse when you put the can on the ground and crush it beneath the sole of your boot. he almost chokes on his spit when you lift your shoe up to reveal the can reduced to nothing more than a flat chunk of aluminium.

fuck, that’s hot.

“not gone to bed yet,” you admit as you pick the debris off the floor and cram it into your bag. johnny’s face falls, “i’ll sleep when i get back, if i have the time. if not, then… tonight? i don’t know, i’ll figure it out.” you shrug like it’s nothing; like neglecting yourself—johnny’s future wife—is an acceptable thing to do. it’s not, and between the lack of clothes and your irresponsible sleep schedule, he feels a sense of duty to take over. after all, it’s clear that he can’t trust your well-being to you.

“which laundromat?” he asks, voice dipping an octave as he lets himself take control of the situation. there’s no way he’s letting your quite frankly stupid behaviour continue, and his intervention starts now, with collecting your laundry for you.

“the one on the corner,” you respond, and johnny nods before telling you to wait a moment. you do, watching as he disappears into his apartment, only to reappear a few seconds later with an oversized grey hoodie in his hands. you wonder what it’s for until you see him hold it up above your head.

“arms up,” he instructs, and you do as he asks with absolutely zero resistance. witnessing your obedience makes his already aching cock twitch, and he can only hope that there isn’t a wet patch on the front of his pants. it’s already humiliating enough that he has a raging hard on, stiff enough to cut glass. “good girl; arms down,” and you do as he says, and he loves every second of it.